One of the things I like about this blog is...
well, it's one thing that doesn't get undone.
You see, dishes that I clean get dirty again.
Clothes that I wash and put away get worn and dirty and strewn about.
Groceries empty out of the cupboards and become glorious food...
that gets eaten.
Even at work the patients stop feeling suicidal, go home, stop taking their meds...
you get the idea.
Writing here is one things that sticks.
Some days I surrender myself to the rhythm of it all, and give in to the ebb and flow, the zen lost-in-the-moment mindset that sometimes takes over as I clean the bathroom...again.
And some days I get frustrated.
One thing that frustrates me recently is the never-ending flow of junk around here. I recently re-sorted and organized our desk. Truthfully, this is the first time in our marriage that cleaning the desk is not the direct result of moving :) So, that part I enjoyed. I only had to clean the desk, not pack up every single thing we own....but I digress.
Stuff...lots of it. Junk mail, bills, old cereal boxes, empty toilet paper rolls, scrap paper. It threatens to mass together and overtake all my efforts of order and neatness. Strangle our home and stiffle our serenity. This is the battle of my life (well...one of...I might just be dramatic here.) Keeping the trash at bay.
Maybe you feel my pain. Maybe you too have started to just open your mail directly over the trash can. Maybe the moment you walk in door you put dishes in the dishwasher, shoes back in the closet, pillows back on the sofa, bills in their file.
My husband has been fighting another battle over here. You see...I had a little habit. It's getting better, truly. I'd like to blame the fact that I was born and raised in a small town. But so was Nathan...But I am a GIRL from a small town. And what do women do best...TALK! What do women from small Indiana towns do...talk about other people.
So I *might* have a tendency to gossip.
And while I've been fighting the good fight against the ever-rising tide of dirt and filth...my husband has been fighting another battle...defending my honor and keeping the gate of conversation in our marriage. Lovingly, gently reminding me (mostly by example) to let my words be sweet.
And instead of a broom and dustpan, he's been waging battle with these three little words
::true::
::necessary::
::kind::
fighting for our marriage in little ways (as well as the big ways)
just like I've been fighting the overwhelming flood
piece by
piece by
piece.
well, it's one thing that doesn't get undone.
You see, dishes that I clean get dirty again.
Clothes that I wash and put away get worn and dirty and strewn about.
Groceries empty out of the cupboards and become glorious food...
that gets eaten.
Even at work the patients stop feeling suicidal, go home, stop taking their meds...
you get the idea.
Writing here is one things that sticks.
Some days I surrender myself to the rhythm of it all, and give in to the ebb and flow, the zen lost-in-the-moment mindset that sometimes takes over as I clean the bathroom...again.
And some days I get frustrated.
One thing that frustrates me recently is the never-ending flow of junk around here. I recently re-sorted and organized our desk. Truthfully, this is the first time in our marriage that cleaning the desk is not the direct result of moving :) So, that part I enjoyed. I only had to clean the desk, not pack up every single thing we own....but I digress.
Stuff...lots of it. Junk mail, bills, old cereal boxes, empty toilet paper rolls, scrap paper. It threatens to mass together and overtake all my efforts of order and neatness. Strangle our home and stiffle our serenity. This is the battle of my life (well...one of...I might just be dramatic here.) Keeping the trash at bay.
Maybe you feel my pain. Maybe you too have started to just open your mail directly over the trash can. Maybe the moment you walk in door you put dishes in the dishwasher, shoes back in the closet, pillows back on the sofa, bills in their file.
My husband has been fighting another battle over here. You see...I had a little habit. It's getting better, truly. I'd like to blame the fact that I was born and raised in a small town. But so was Nathan...But I am a GIRL from a small town. And what do women do best...TALK! What do women from small Indiana towns do...talk about other people.
So I *might* have a tendency to gossip.
And while I've been fighting the good fight against the ever-rising tide of dirt and filth...my husband has been fighting another battle...defending my honor and keeping the gate of conversation in our marriage. Lovingly, gently reminding me (mostly by example) to let my words be sweet.
And instead of a broom and dustpan, he's been waging battle with these three little words
::true::
::necessary::
::kind::
fighting for our marriage in little ways (as well as the big ways)
just like I've been fighting the overwhelming flood
piece by
piece by
piece.
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