I drove into town today specifically to see a tree.

An acquaintance had mentioned a tree in the city, next to the tennis courts. Once I saw his photos, I knew I had to lay hands on this tree.

As I sat in the car explaining this to my spouse on my cell phone, I was met with the “uh huh” of a man who thought I was nuts.

I’m not nuts – I love trees! Ancient trees, 200 years or older, are worthy of honor and respect.

As I stepped out of the car, I was struck by how unimposing it looked. Low to the ground, it’s branches bent down to the sandy ground, stretching out longer than the tree was tall.

I could imagine this tree during the dozens of hurricanes it’s survived, hunkered down, almost clasping the ground with its elbow like bends in the tangle of its branches.

I had to duck these branches to get to the trunk, and there was a light rustle of the stiff oak leaves as they filtered the sun, which barely shone through the canopy.

The trunk was spotted with moss and lichen, and rough from pockmarks that scarred it over the years it had battled the wind. I reverently placed my hand on the bark, and I looked up to the top of the tree, thanking it for its beauty. It’s tenacity. It’s sprawling anonymity, tucked next to a tennis court.

It was a cold day, but it was time well spend to spend a few minutes honoring one of God’s great creations.

It’s a very unsettling day.

The weather was the first portent if things to come.

I awoke to unseasonably warm winds swirling through the magnolia trees, scattering wild oak leaves up and out, and sending loose leaves and bits of trash scurrying up the drive.

It’s a dreary grey. Or is it brown? There is not a ray of sunlight to dispel the gloom.

Today I’m just as unsettled.

News has come of evil – horrific evil on the most innocent. My heart is troubled. My mind is confused. How can this happen?

I’ve heard another story, of evil struck down. Or is it? Unsettling. It remains to be seen.

Evil is present in the world. It should disturb us on the deepest level. I am disturbed today.

I will go in, and work on myself. On forgiving. On praying. On letting go of what I don’t understand. On asking what I can do – and doing it.

Letting go of the rest.

It’s raining now, and the wind has calmed.

So it will be with me.

A couple of nights ago, there was a full moon and an eclipse. It made the news, and those lucky enough to have clear skies and the correct time zone were able to enjoy it.

The next night, though, was the real show stopper!

I was in the den, just jumping on my rebounder, when suddenly the bay windows transferred a beautiful light from outside into my view.

I had to go outside – and the immediately I noticed the very air was transformed by a radiance I have not seen in many years.

In my suburban locale, the sky above was every shade of pink and purple, and somehow yellow and orange as well. Everything looked different. I felt different. I knew I was seeing something special.

After a while, the sky started to fade away into darkness, and I retreated into the warmth of my den again.

Within minutes, my social media was flooded with pictures of the sky – from my nearby suburbs, to the inter coastal areas, to the beautiful Gulf of Mexico.

Soon, more stunning sunset photos were coming from southern states around me, and even into the Midwest.

I saw a few pictures of the blood moon, but I saw dozens and dozens of pictures of that magical sunset.

One big, beautiful sky, shared by all of us.

It was magical!

(Photo taken by my son, in Destin, Florida)

My earliest performance memory is from the age of four.

I was in a tap class, and we were set to dance a routine to a Shirley Temple tune, “Old Straw Hat”.

I remember the song, and I remember my mom being there.

When I was in second grade, I was in the school play. I was “her in her cap” for a dramatic presentation of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”. I remember Santa coming down the chimney – and knocking the whole chimney over, causing me to rock so hard with laughter in my rocking chair that I almost flipped backwards. I remember my parents, laughing with me, in the audience.

As a senior in high school, I entered a state short study contest. All the winners were on stage,and the audience was given programs with the list of who had won each category. I searched my parents for any sign of triumph, but they remained poker faced. I ended up the winner of first prize, and they celebrated with me.

Plays. Recitals. Speech contests. Awards.

My parents were there. I was just like every other kid, scanning the audience for my parents.

They were present.

Love never divides – it only expands.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this recently.

As a stepfamily, once time and healing gave in to love for the vast majority of the kids, the family grew. Each person who opened their heart got more love, exponentially.

As a Nana, I already have 3 wonderful grandsons. This month, I get two more. Later this year, we grow by another grandchild.

Love expands a family.

I love the kids, and I love all the spouses that have joined our family.

We even have expanded to include my daughter in love’s family – we are a big family now, surrounding our children.

It’s the way it should be.

The power of love is it really expands your heart, not just your life.

My heart is so full, and I am blessed with all the growth that has happened.

I am focusing on my blessings.

Love is definitely something to choose, embrace, and walk in.

I am continuing my personal and household cleanse.

My goal is to streamline my house – minimizing is the goal.

I inherited a large house whose previous regime was stricken by OCD. The house was packed with crap.

Packed.

As a person with ADD, I was completely overwhelmed by the over abundant supply of stuff. Cabinets cram packed with cleaning supplies. Perfect dressers stuffed with disorganized assortments of miscellaneous stuff.

It was too much. Too much junk. Too much for me.

Now that I’m a full time wife, mom, Nana, and writer, I had time to come up with a plan to tackle this over abundance of stuff.

Today I tackled the laundry room. The cupboards above the washer and dryer were jam packed with stuff I’ve never used. The shelf above was just as cluttered.

It was time again to purge.

Any solvent or cleanser I don’t use was responsibly disposed of. I threw 90% away, cleaned the shelves, and placed the everyday items neatly behind the doors. My laundry room is mine. Over a decade in, and I’m finally tackling the overwhelming excess around me.

It is a daunting task, and it takes planning.

I’m getting there, one room at a time. The kitchen, the coat closet, the den, the laundry room…purges, cleansed, minimized, one room at a time.

As the bags and boxes of stuff leave for good, I breathe easier.

My life is at a place at last where I can break through the clutter and bring clarity and calm, through examining everything.

All at once, it was too much. Little by little, it brings peace. Calm.

Home at last.

Alas, it’s New Years Eve 2018. People across the world are celebrating a new year even as I type this.

People are planning to start new lifestyles tomorrow. Diets, gym memberships, and promises to do thing differently are vowed. People are setting themselves up for a triumphant entry into the new year.

It will start that way, but for most, it will be business as usual in six weeks or less.

Why? Because big changes are never sustainable.

Several years ago I vowed not to make New Years resolutions.

I haven’t made any since.

It’s another day.

Seven years ago, I was diagnosed with diabetes.

On that diagnosis day, I knew I had to make changes. So I did, slowly but surely.

It has been seven years of living one day at a time.

I’ve gone from guzzling soda to drinking 80-100 oz of water a day, with an occasional unsweetened tea or diet soda thrown in.

I’ve gone from eating a very carb dominant diet to eating smaller portions, adding healthier choices, one by one, and eliminating carbs incrementally, in favor of vegetables and whole food options.

One day at a time, I added exercise. Walking at first, then on to running half marathons.

All of this one day at a time. A lifestyle is lived one day at a time.

It’s just another day – another day to decide how to be the healthiest me.

When I was 21, I worked as a cashier at a gas station.

I was a single mom, and I was doing whatever I could to support myself and my three year old son.

I drove to work in my rusty Datsun 210, dependable with a stick shift and a functional engine, but no AC. In the Deep South, swampy summers made for a sweaty commute.

My son and I would be wearing shorts and tank tops, windows down, blasting music as we went down the road, singing along to 90’s contemporary Christian music. I was trying to find a way to be positive in my very difficult life. Once I dropped him at the sitters and got to work, I’d change into my uniform.

I was also working part time at a pizza place, but I was barely making ends meet.

I had several regulars that came through the gas station. One was a giant redheaded man, rumbling up on his motorcycle to buy cigarettes. He looked downright scary with his wild hair and unkempt beard, but I soon discovered he was just a big softy.

We would talk for a few minutes whenever he came in. He looked out for me – I was 21, but looked much younger. He always worried about “such a pretty girl working alone”, as I worked solo those days- even on night shifts.

Two days after Thanksgiving that year, I received a call at work from my son’s aunt, informing me that my son’s father had been killed in a car accident.

“Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me”

I really despise strife.

I think one of the main things that divides friends, families, and the human race is judgements and strife.

It took me four decades to realize I was the cause of many of my problems.

It’s so easy to point the finger at others and tell them how they need to change.

Now we have social media, and you can get a random gang to support points you make. They don’t really know what’s going on, though. They are responding to the fire you are stoking.

No one is perfect. Not even me, or you.

The answer to peace in your home, your relationships, your workplace is right in front of you.

It’s called a mirror.

If you are blaming your life station or current situation on someone else, you are on the wrong track.

Look in the mirror.

No one can make you feel anything. Make you do anything.

If you are reacting to people or situations, you are running on emotions, not logic.

It takes an adult to realize that how we respond to a situation is our choice. Our choice alone.

The Bible talks about iron sharpening iron – we are in relationship to learn and grow, and become more like Christ.

The way this happens is not by focusing on the other person. Pray sincerely for them, in love. Pray for God to make them into the man or woman He wants them to be.

We cannot change anyone but ourselves.

So I get humble. I pray sincerely.

I want peace in my house. In my relationships. In the world.

It’s starts by working on me, by letting God speak to me about how I can change. Grow. Improve. Be kinder.

Is this easy? Often it is very difficult. People hurt people.

I’m accountable to God. I need to keep my focus on being pleasing in His sight.

That is something I must decide to do every single day.

I’m a lot less distracted by what’s going on around me when I’m focused on God.

Let there be peace.

I did the walk of shame yesterday.

I am really mortified by the results of my pantry purge.

Post Christmas, I decided to deep clean the cupboards and pantry. We are functionally empty nesters now, and our grocery needs have decreased exponentially. We started out our remarriage journey with five hungry kids, ages 10-23. We are now two adults trying to eat healthy, and I wanted to do an inventory of our food.

I have thrown out two large laundry baskets full of expired food. Canned goods, staples, snacks. All uneaten, expired, and wasted.

I’m ashamed.

I can come up with lots of excuses – until six months ago I was working full time, with a lot of commuting as well. I bought ingredients for recipes without looking at what I had at home. Frankly, with the amount of food I had, I never really knew what I had.

Turns out I had a lot of wasted food.

I’ve been poor. I’ve been no joke broke. I’ve lived off potatoes, ramen soup, and cereal.

I’m horrified at the waste.

In my continuing path to minimizing my home, I’ve rearranged (again) my pantry so I can clearly see everything.

I’m dedicated to looking at what I have and considering my stock of food when I am meal planning.

Deep sigh.

Today I’ll finish up the last of the pantry purge.

From now on, I’ll take my time and look at what I have before I buy more.

Lesson painfully learned.