Things I Write

 For the past couple years, I've kept a prayer journal. 

Or more specifically, I have a lined notebook where I write out my conversations with God. Sometimes I go on and on, other times it's brief and to the point. But each entry is raw and real and straight from my heart, unedited not filtered. 

So when the notebook is filled, I throw it out. 

Today is that day. 

My first entry in this one was Sept 26. 

My last entry was March 26. 

Half a year of chats with the Almighty. 

I noticed that my prayers are longer if I like the pen I'm using. Super fine ballpoint entries go on FOR PAGES. 

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Way back near the beginning of this century, before I had a blog, I would write blog-type essays and email them to anyone who was interested in my daily thoughts. 

My mom printed them all off and kept them in a box:

During The Great Decluttering of 2021, I found this box buried in her storage closet. I brought it to the lake and randomly pulled out a few pages from the middle of the stack:

(Yes, there are alot of printed sheets in there. I obvs had much to say in 2003.)

This particular 'story' had to do with prayer, (which is turning out to be the theme of this blog post), so I'll re-write it here:

It was written in April 2003. I had been on my own for a couple years and was living at my dad and mom's house with the boys. I'd sold my Fraser Heights house and was waiting for a southern-backyard, 4 bedroom house in Murrayville to come on the market. I was unemployed (Billie's Country had closed) and had just been interviewed for a job in the bookstore at TWU. 

(This was a 5-pager; I won't write out the part about the interview. But I will share the conversation I had with the boys afterwards.)

" I talked with the kids about my interview; they had mixed feelings. 

Clint was smug. Mark has just offered him a job working at the plant this summer; his hourly wage would be way more than mine. 

Retail jobs suck. 

Max was interested in my hours. "So. You'll be working all summer long? EVERY DAY? Ok. Cool. I'll just hang out with my friends...

Drew's response was less enthusiastic. "Who's going to look after me? What am I going to do this summer? Aren't we going to the cabin? I'm still a little kid..."

(Boys were 16, 12 and 8 when I wrote this.)

Yeah, that little one knows how to tug.

So tonight, I suggested we all pray about this job situation. If God has chosen me for this position at the bookstore, then we'll have to trust that all the other details will get worked out. And if that job has someone else's name on it - well then that would be OK too. 

As Drew and I snuggled after talking to God, he turned to me and said, " Do you think there's a traffic jam of prayers? Cuz, you know, there might be a time of day when a lot of people all pray at the same time. And the prayers could get tangled up while they wait for God. And they could get into a big knot. And God would have to hold this big ball of knotty prayers in His hand and pick one out like this. (And he holds up an imaginary ball in hand, while the forefinger and the thumb in his other hand carefully pinches off an invisible prayer.) Do you think that's what happens? 

"I dunno Drew. I don't think so. God can handle everyone's prayers at once. When we get to heaven you can ask Him about that traffic knot if you want."

"Gnight mom."

I left the room (which, when growing up, was originally my sister's room) and my dad went in and settled onto the mattress on the floor beside Drew's bed. I was in the hallway, folding clothes, when I overheard Drew question my dad. 

"Bups, have you asked Jesus into your heart?"

"Yes, Drew."

"Ummm. Maybe you should ask Him to come into your pacemaker too.,,"

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I loved/love being a mom. 

And I'm so glad I have ten million zillion words written about the experience of raising them. 

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Three things I'm thankful for:

1. The forecast is for 14 days of sunshine ahead. I went shopping:

2. Legs that move. Boobs that are cancer-free. The opportunity to raise money for Breast Cancer research. 

If you'd like to donate (thankyou!) or walk with me (that'd be fun), I'll post more info in the coming days. I'm hoping to raise $500 and walk 5,000 steps a day after work. 

3. And so, so very thankful that I am Clint, Max, Drew's (and now Danica's) mom. 

xojo