Letters to My Kids

On Tastes and Tears

So there’s this thing…that I can’t figure out.  Every morning after I watch Regis and Kelly (love them!) the Martha Stewart Show comes on.  I do not like Martha in the least.  She annoys me.  And yet, I watch the show almost all the time.  I can’t understand.  It’s like I’m torturing myself.  huh.  

Last night Kevin and I ate some of the most divine pieces of bread!  I made a loaf of Honey Whole Wheat bread all from scratch–kneaded and all.  It was (and is) delicious!
In other news…the bike rides have continued.  I love the extra time the two of us can spend together and I love getting that extra exercise every morning.  It’s quite an interesting journey each day though. There are two or three homeless people who are “regulars” on a certain park bench or church step.  Puddles can be the death of you.  Walkers and drivers alike consistently pay no attention to a person on a bike.  One’s life is truly on the line.  There’s some shady business going on behind this deserted old hotel building.  The architecture in Detroit continues to amaze me.  Some structures are in decent new shape and others are phenomenally built but in a state of disheartening disrepair.  Men call out nasty things.  I try not to look.  My heart goes out to all the people I pass who don’t even seem to have the will to smile back at me.  
Rent is due today.  I’m not looking forward to that.  It scares me, I’m not gonna lie.  My stomach is a little queasy knowing I still don’t have a job and probably won’t be getting one before the end of the summer.  I’m trying to see it as somewhat of a blessing…time to rest, rejuvenate, and learn to be a wife without being distracted by work.  Please pray.  I’m not sure for what…I would say, “Pray that teaching/subbing positions open up in the Christian schools”…but then I am convicted that I am praying God will follow my plan.  Nope, that’s not what I want.  I want whatever He wants.  Truly.  
In closing, I’d like to share two excerpts from The Shack that seem applicable to the day ahead of me.  
“All I want from you is to trust me with what little you can, and grow in loving people around you with the same love I share with you.  It’s not your job to change them, or to convince them.  You are free to love without an agenda” (p. 181).
“Oh child,” spoke Papa tenderly.  “Don’t ever discount the wonder of your tears.  They can be healing waters and a stream of joy.  Sometimes they are the best words the heart can speak” (p. 228)

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