First of October

Popcorn and Soccer. Soccer and Popcorn. This sums up fall for the May family.


I finished another book this year, I'm so proud of myself! It turns out a combination of listening to a book and reading it on my kindle app is what gets books read for me. Per Nathanael's request, I read Pines, and I'm already on to the 2nd book in the trilogy. I DID like it, just like he said I would. Maybe I can even finish TWO MORE BOOKS by the end of 2019!

It's time for my bi-annual haircut! It happened last week. I LOVE going to a salon that specializes in curly hair. I learned some new things about caring for curly hair and got a fresh cut. When I reported to my stylist that I am growing in my silver hair, she said (and I quote), "it looks rad. You have a sprinkling of silver all over, and then this shock of silver right at your part line."  This delighted me. It was exactly what I was hoping for, and the second compliment I've received on my incoming silver. I am looking forward to more.

On Sunday morning as the boys and I were getting ready to go to church and listening to hymns, the song with these lyrics came on, "Shout, Hallelujah! Shout, Hallelujah! Shout Hallelujah...unto the Lord". I heard Atticus singing along, and I asked him what he was singing, since it didn't sound quite the same. He said, "Chef, Hallelujah", which I thought was also apropos.

I had a couple of evening shifts last week with a 91 year old man who lives at home with his wife and has trouble getting around. He is very tall, and he almost fell in the bathroom when I assisted him, but we managed to save the situation and laugh a little about it. Once he was settled back into his bed, he started talking and telling me stories. First they were about his high school experience at Columbia Prep in Portland. After that, he moved on to the 16 months he spent in Korea after he was drafted. It was late. I was tired. But he wanted to talk. So I stood there, next to his bed, shifting from one foot to the other, listening and asking questions at what I hoped were the right times. He told a story about a guy he had picked up and drove to the hospital because he had been electrocuted. There wasn't any hope, he died before they got there. His voice would quaver and his nose would flare with impending tears as he talked, and when he told this particular story...he just cried. I was telling this story during a staff lunch at work, and how I was honored to have been there in that moment. One of my co-workers asked me, "doesn't that just fill your cup?" Indeed, it does.

At the direction of my therapist, I've been practicing gratitude. Each night, I am to write down 3 things I'm grateful for. The rules are, it has to be completely true, and it has to be in concert with my values (maybe something I'm proud of myself for doing that day). I've decided to include one thing I'm grateful for about Nathanael in this exercise, and then to communicate to him via text as often as I can/remember to. Today, he told me, as he often does, about how he always wants to be with me and is always thinking of things for us to do together. This was after he told me about his plan for us to travel Route 66 in his new corvette sometime in our retirement future. I was thinking about this conversation a lot afterwards. I decided that today, I am grateful to have someone who is all in with his love for me and who loves me to the very edges of what I think I am capable of receiving.

There have been many outbursts of anger and frustration from me towards my boys over the recent years, especially during the long days of Nathanael's work trips. On one recent Sunday, I let my anger get the best of me. As we left the house, drove to church, and sat in the worship service, I was angry, but willed the negative feelings to seep out of me. This anger results in a wall between me and my boys. But here's what I'm getting at. Even when my anger, hurt, and frustration erects a wall between them and me, they still press in. They decided they didn't want to go to class that day. They sat close to me. They drew me pictures. They loved me. Even when I am emotionally unavailable, they reach out. When I am unlovable, they still love hard. In this...they show me Jesus.

And finally, friends, a few comments about fear.

I'm afraid of blogging regularly. Afraid of putting myself out there. Afraid of posting something that people (anybody) won't like or approve of. Afraid of saying too much. Afraid of sharing parts of our journey from one church home to another, as yet unknown one. Afraid I might hurt people with my words, inadvertent as it may be. It's why I've hesitated, even though I know I can write well about some things. I hold back my true expressions because of fear, and I admire people who don't fear these things. But what if I didn't have this fear? If I name the fears, will it make them less powerful?


Be kind. Show grace.

Misty