Brain spillage

Driving through the fog.
Roadwater splashing onto tempered glass.
There truly is power in positive thinking.
Sure, it's possible to believe you will succeed, and then fail,
But if you succeed when you believed you would fail, you do not own your success.
Failing is not a happy thing.
Rising to try again is beautiful.
It has something to do with faith,
And rain.
Believe in God and you will see Him.
Disbelieve, and you will not own His glory.

There's some attraction I have to rainy climate people.
Either they blend with the wispy greys,
Or they shine their own light.

Prayer

Part of the point of prayer is to learn what to ask for. I have had received little help from screaming, "Fix this for me, God!" (Actually, i don't think i've said that very much. More accurate would be, "PLEASE LET ME SLEEP FOR MORE THAN 45 MINUTES JUST ONCE THIS WEEK!!!" It was a constant prayer for the first six months of A's life.) I've found it much more productive to be more specific, less flailing. Like praying for strength to get through a hard time, instead of asking for the hardship to be removed (in a pinch, post-partum zombies can be almost as strong as regular zombies). I have been experimenting with the way i pray for things i need. Experimentation requires looking at the problem from different angles, seeing it through the eyes of God, remembering that i have a very imperfect understanding of how God thinks, then imagining how He might be different from what i expect. Thus prayer becomes a whole new way to analyze a situation, and just by trying to pray about a problem i come to understand it better.
Then sometimes, i am at a complete loss. I am boggled by my predicament and buried under it. So an idea comes to me, to ask my Heavenly Father what i should pray for. If i am humble enough, a conduit to Heaven will open before me, and my spirit will know the questions to ask.

Sometimes, I wish I was famous

I just watched "I'm Reed Fish." I get bothered by these small-town-hero movies; they make me wonder if I should be disappointed in myself. Aren't there people back in White Salmon who expected me to do something?
I thought I was full of magic and visions when I stepped out of that school, with my honor chords and scholarships and a whopping seventy-six other students in my class. My transcripts looked great, my GPA was almost perfect (let me take this opportunity to tell the world that I scored a 30 on the ACT); all signs pointed to me being a success at something.
Perhaps I've reached that part of growing up when I see clearly where my foundation is made of confetti. I'm not really indebted to that long-haired people-pleaser with a rubber chicken in her backpack. I don't have to live her dreams any more than I have to live anyone else's.
What a concept. What a concept for someone who avoided her 10-year reunion because she'd gained 50 pounds since graduation. Guess I have some more growing up to do.
Now to figure out what I really want to do with myself.

The headaches are back.
They are here to remind me that the world is so beautiful when the pain goes away.
They help me focus on what is important, because focusing is limited when one's head hurts.
They are here to tell me that there isn't always an answer to everything.
Looking up is so hard to do sometimes. I'd really rather crawl under a rock right now.

A Wedding Speech

He's not anything like a character in a fairy tale. Fairy tales were written by women. He won't always be there to dry your tears and pick you up when you fall. He may be the one who tripped you in the first place. It will be almost impossible for him to love you the way you want to be loved unless you give him explicit instructions. In order
to give instructions, you need to know what you want, which may be just as difficult.
He will not always think you are more attractive than Natalie Portman. He may not admit this, but it's not important for you to know. Deep down inside he knows that she wouldn't give him the time of day.
He won't always support you. He will lose his patience sometimes, and someday he will hurt you. He will hurt you at your very core, even in that place where you still wear pink princess dresses and your mother's lipstick.This doesn't mean he has stopped loving you. He just made a mistake. You make them, too. It's not his job to be unfailing and generously forgiving and tirelessly devoted. You can only hope that he is striving to be these things. In the darkest hour of your darkest night, when your body aches and your heart screams, your Heavenly Father is there to comfort you. He knows what you need, He hears your prayers. And, perhaps, He will tickle the ear of your dear husband, and send him to your aid.

Haven't felt like writing anything for months. Too much at stake, I guess.
There are birds in the chimney. There's a hole in the wall at the top of the stairs. The birds got in on their own, with the help of the mama bird. I am responsible for the hole in the wall.
I smashed a spider. It was on the wall. I used my foot. I wanted to get it out of sight before it unsettled our guests. So the guests were amused at the hole in the wall instead.
I wish I could smash the birds in the chimney with my foot. They tweet all night.

Lemonade is not helping my stomach feel better.
I got to run around the woods with a couple nephews today. Oh ya, one of them was actually my son. Anyway, it was once a field of little Doug firs, where we would pick out our Christmas trees, but now it's a dark forest complete with sword ferns and creepy footsteps. That's why we left in a hurry--my nephew said he heard footsteps nearby.
It would be a beautiful garden. Clear out the bramble and dead branches, widen the deer trails, install a patio. It's incredible what nature can do on its own. Leave it alone and the succession of vegetation will return, from fungus to hardy seedlings to grasses to saplings to majestic evergreens. Perhaps in a century the Calypso orchid will sneak in. And yet, none but man can produce a lawn chair, pour a concrete patio, and prune a bonsai. I guess we have a purpose, after all.