Pine Scented Trees
If this were the pyramid game show, the answer would be Things to Do with Christmas.
Christmas in July must be happening on the Hallmark channel. I needed a night on the couch and a sappy love story, so I sat there last night, immovable, prepping and peeling, slicing 18 of the juiciest fruits I could find for my favorite peach rosemary jam recipe.
I can’t get enough of it right now.
You know what goes great with jam?
You know what goes great with Christmas?
I laid on a pool floatie yesterday afternoon and thought of all the things God has brought me through. In the middle of my mid-life crisis, where there is really no crisis, other than my spontaneous crying and sudden hot flashes where I want to peel all my clothes off in public and well, no. Because of bread.
I need sweet in my life right now and began recalling all of the sweet things that have happened in the last few weeks. Gratefulness always keeps me from drowning when I feel like sinking to the bottom of the deep end.
Heart rocks. 2
Shooting stars. 2
Uplifting comments from a 7-year-old boy. 2.
New friends. 2. Victoria and Kate
4 new charms.
I’d been trying to focus on all of the awesome but my head wanted to argue. Counting my many blessings one minute and cursing the very next. It happened Saturday night too after I left the lake. It began as a nice relaxing evening under the stars with my two dogs, a camp chair, and a quilted blanket. I had iced tea in my blue Backyard Bible Club cup and a pack of cherry Twizzlers and Charlie.
It had all the trimmings of a great night. But when you are not the fisher of men Jesus called you to be and feeling lost in the middle of a mid-life crisis, it’s probably not the best-laid plan to go see a movie about a memory challenged fish that can’t find her way home. There are just too, too many emotions attached to shells and finding home.
So I left and drove to my house and for the first time ever, I pulled into a garage. This sounds ridiculous, but I was so stinking excited. I know millions of women pull into their garages and get out with their groceries and carry them in, but I’ve never done it.
I love old houses that ooze with character and charm and the faint smell of mold. I’ve never had a garage to park my car in.
There I was, grateful for this life-first and proud of myself for finally getting the Christmas and craft clutter put away so I could actually park in the garage. Blessings abounding.
Until my next thought.
How long do you have to sit in here for the fumes to kill you anyway? I thought of all the crime stories I used to watch on t.v.
4 hours? 8? A whole weekend? I thought of the Audible book I listened to recently and wondered what Ove would have done.
Later, I shared this somewhat disturbing, humorous story and opposing thought patterns with my mother on the phone the next day. She was on a romantic trip to Boston and had been texting pictures of the boats in the harbor.
“You need a hose,” she said organizationally.
“I don’t think you have to have a hose.”
“You need a hose. It’s more complicated than that. You can’t just pull in and park.”
“I think you can.”
I’m sure she was recalling all of the years she read, The Little Engine That Could and never related my determination to a mid-life crisis and carbon monoxide mix-up. Yes, mother, I’ll call the doctor. I’m fine.
It was just a joke. And an illustration about the verse that talks about blessing and curses coming out of the same mouth. Like an unexpected Christmas gift, and the watermelon I got at church on Sunday, a few other verses have been at the forefront of my mind when I get bummed.
Those who refresh others will be refreshed.
Your boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places. I will delight in the things that I receive.
Christmas in July.