Man—it seems as though everyone's going through a period of testing these days. Devin is trying to find some balance (though he once again sounds chipper in his most recent post—the man's a bipolar wonder); Christina is struggling through school, single motherhood, and general madness; Slater is working through church issues and bousebuilding difficulties (it's hard to muster up much sympathy for a guy who goes out to breakfast with his wife every week, is indepdendently employed, and is planning a home on his own 10 acres of country paradise, but there you go); Skaggs is making us cry about his poor wee son and the heart-wrenching trials they've been through; Beth has had her head pop off and a giant change of life thrust upon her and her family; and Kathie, though her recent posts have been about humorous bathroom noises, is leaving tear-inducing comments on everyone else's blogs and struggling with her own issues.
Egads.
Makes my petty whining here seem pretty pitiful. Yesterday morning I was all set to post about how miserable I was after another night of not much sleep and grading still left undone, but (a) after whining and moaning and kicking at the goads trying to guess what God wanted from me, He came through in His own way, and (b) everyone else's posts put me in my place.
I'm not sure why this seems to be descending upon us all simultaneously—perhaps together our band is the single greatest threat to the forces of evil in America today, so we have to be kept separate and struggling. In a more serious vein, though, it certainly does point out the need for strong community. I know I wouldn't get through half of what I do without my friends' admonishment, counsel, and encouragement. Devin and I have been recently bemoaning the evil and pointless diversion the internet brings into our homes and lives, but at least in this it is a mighty powerful tool. I'm fairly certain I wouldn't hear from half of you half as often as I do without this—heck, without GoogleTalk I probably would have no clue at all that Slater was even married yet, or that he wasn't a hobo living under an overpass as we all though he would be. The idea that we get to keep up on one another's lives so quickly and easily is a blessing, albeit one that sometimes comes with ads for online gambling and penile enhancement products.
I haven't really found a place to be at peace yet, but knowing that others are going through their own seasons of trial and sharing in mine is a comfort. I'm praying for you all.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Warning: Another Depressing Post Ahead
I cannot express to you how much being generally unable to access the internet after 8pm or so affects my ability to post.
I mentioned before that my "office" has been given over to a playroom (which is really more of a toy storage room and now cat supply room, since the boys don't ever play in there and we have two new cats. Oh, yes) and now the computer is sitting in a corner of our bedroom. Born Dancin's crib is also in the bedroom, so after she's sleeping, I'm out.
It's also surprising how lazy I am--well, surprising to me, anyway. I could access the internet from my laptop, but that requires (a) me unplugging the wires to the DSL box, (b) carrying it to the living room, and (c)re-plugging everything in. It's a laborious process that can take up to five minutes on a bad evening. Yet somehow it seems hard to do (not to mention the fact that I have to put it all away again when I'm done). Setting up the folding table, laying out the machine, and getting everything properly attached to everything else is just too hard.
All this points to a bigger issue: I'm congenitally unable to use small blocks of time. I don't even start a project unless I have a couple of hours to devote to it, free from all other interruption. If I have four hours of grading to do, I don't start it unless I actually have four free hours, which is almost never.
This is madness, I know. I'm trying to break myself of that thought process, using ten and fifteen minutes when they're available. That's why I'm posting this hasty and rambling and dull post now, while I've got a moment or two before heading home. Cramming in whatever I could worked for my "novel-in-a-month" project, mainly because I was concentrated on the results rather than the process. Maybe I could employ a similar system.
Isn't this fascinating? I'm going through one of my endless crises of conscience and focus, trying to figure out how to live life in such a way that I don't feel guilty all the time. I'd love to go to bed some night feeling happy and content about what I'd accomplished that day. To be a good teacher, and to write, and to be a good husband, and to be a good father, and to be a good homeowner, and to be a good servant to Christ... How to manage all these simultaneously is a seeming impossibility. Only He can show me how to get it all done.
I hope I get a few clues soon. I don't want to drown.
I mentioned before that my "office" has been given over to a playroom (which is really more of a toy storage room and now cat supply room, since the boys don't ever play in there and we have two new cats. Oh, yes) and now the computer is sitting in a corner of our bedroom. Born Dancin's crib is also in the bedroom, so after she's sleeping, I'm out.
It's also surprising how lazy I am--well, surprising to me, anyway. I could access the internet from my laptop, but that requires (a) me unplugging the wires to the DSL box, (b) carrying it to the living room, and (c)re-plugging everything in. It's a laborious process that can take up to five minutes on a bad evening. Yet somehow it seems hard to do (not to mention the fact that I have to put it all away again when I'm done). Setting up the folding table, laying out the machine, and getting everything properly attached to everything else is just too hard.
All this points to a bigger issue: I'm congenitally unable to use small blocks of time. I don't even start a project unless I have a couple of hours to devote to it, free from all other interruption. If I have four hours of grading to do, I don't start it unless I actually have four free hours, which is almost never.
This is madness, I know. I'm trying to break myself of that thought process, using ten and fifteen minutes when they're available. That's why I'm posting this hasty and rambling and dull post now, while I've got a moment or two before heading home. Cramming in whatever I could worked for my "novel-in-a-month" project, mainly because I was concentrated on the results rather than the process. Maybe I could employ a similar system.
Isn't this fascinating? I'm going through one of my endless crises of conscience and focus, trying to figure out how to live life in such a way that I don't feel guilty all the time. I'd love to go to bed some night feeling happy and content about what I'd accomplished that day. To be a good teacher, and to write, and to be a good husband, and to be a good father, and to be a good homeowner, and to be a good servant to Christ... How to manage all these simultaneously is a seeming impossibility. Only He can show me how to get it all done.
I hope I get a few clues soon. I don't want to drown.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
And Back Again
I, like Devin, have been paralyzed for a while without posting, daunted by all I'd have to catch up on to do so.
How silly is that? Yet it happens more often than not. So I, like the aforementioned Parker, am throwing responsibility to the wind and posting whatever pops into my head.
In this case, it's pictures!
Tell me that's not the cutest kid in the world. Go ahead--just try. Meanwhile, I'm causing my hand to phase in and out of existence. I'm a magic!
It's Born Dancin', just over 15 months. A bunch of you have not seen her in a long time. She's talking, melting hearts, and walking. As evidence, I offer the following:
Though this may be a rare sighting of Cindy Lou Who.
Meanwhile, the boys at 5 have sprouted into the gangly, long-legged creatures you see here:
They just started preschool and are showing predilictions of being their father's children. The other day, when I asked Poncho if his shirt was on backward, he pulled out the neck, looked down, and exclaimed, "I see no tag!" On a recent camping trip, after visiting a little general store that didn't have what we needed, he asked, "Did it prove too small?" His current ambition when he grows up? To be a knight.
That's my boy.
Here is Poncho, in all his glory:
Meanwhile, Denver also continues to amuse and amaze with his strange made-up songs (he wants to be a guitarist) and his consistently employed fake laugh. When presented with a belated birthday gift from the great-grandparents, he actually exclaimed wholeheartedly, "Boy oh boy! I'm gonna like this!" It was like standing in an episode of The Little Rascals.
Amidst all the birthday parties, school functions, the new semester starting at school (almost a month and a half ago now--sheesh), family hijinks, and revising my draft on Slater's orders (for which I am ever grateful), it's been nutty.
I'll attempt to be more postful when I can. Until then, one more image of cuteness to tide you over:
Two words: En-joy.
How silly is that? Yet it happens more often than not. So I, like the aforementioned Parker, am throwing responsibility to the wind and posting whatever pops into my head.
In this case, it's pictures!
Tell me that's not the cutest kid in the world. Go ahead--just try. Meanwhile, I'm causing my hand to phase in and out of existence. I'm a magic!
It's Born Dancin', just over 15 months. A bunch of you have not seen her in a long time. She's talking, melting hearts, and walking. As evidence, I offer the following:
Though this may be a rare sighting of Cindy Lou Who.
Meanwhile, the boys at 5 have sprouted into the gangly, long-legged creatures you see here:
They just started preschool and are showing predilictions of being their father's children. The other day, when I asked Poncho if his shirt was on backward, he pulled out the neck, looked down, and exclaimed, "I see no tag!" On a recent camping trip, after visiting a little general store that didn't have what we needed, he asked, "Did it prove too small?" His current ambition when he grows up? To be a knight.
That's my boy.
Here is Poncho, in all his glory:
Meanwhile, Denver also continues to amuse and amaze with his strange made-up songs (he wants to be a guitarist) and his consistently employed fake laugh. When presented with a belated birthday gift from the great-grandparents, he actually exclaimed wholeheartedly, "Boy oh boy! I'm gonna like this!" It was like standing in an episode of The Little Rascals.
Amidst all the birthday parties, school functions, the new semester starting at school (almost a month and a half ago now--sheesh), family hijinks, and revising my draft on Slater's orders (for which I am ever grateful), it's been nutty.
I'll attempt to be more postful when I can. Until then, one more image of cuteness to tide you over:
Two words: En-joy.