daily life – Sheila Dougal

Time-warp wrap up

I feel like it’s going to be Thanksgiving and Christmas and 2017 in rapid succession. It really feels to me like since I drove the kids home from California this summer, we’ve been in a fast-forward time warp.

Friday and Saturday were the culmination and fruition of 2+ months of soap-making and 2+ weeks of marketing, packaging, printing and prepping. The Front Porch Pickins Vintage and Handmade Market at the University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale hosting hundreds of vendors, including my little Goats Make Soap Co. booth, was from 9-7 on Friday and 9-4 on Saturday. Thursday was about 8 hours of unloading and setup and Saturday after 4pm was about 4 hours of packing up and loading.

In total, weeks of hours was put into this event and it paid off. I learned some things, had great interactions with new customers, was blessed with visits from friends and made triple in sales what I was hoping for. I think I’ll do it again in February and won’t be nearly as stressed about it before hand now that I know what to expect.

My dear neighbor, Laura, volunteered to help me through the whole process in exchange for keeping her in soap. Deal! And I’m sure I got the better end of that bargain, because I would not have been standing upright on the floor of the Cardinals stadium setting up a booth on Thursday if it wasn’t for her! I see a good friendship developing there. Thank you Lord!

In the weeks leading up to this event I sold my last two milking does and went to part time (24 hours a week) at work. I was also offered an opportunity to apply for a wound nurse position at my hospital (which I will be applying for tomorrow), which is a half-time position (20 hrs a week). I also applied to ASU’s RN to BSN online program which I will be following up on tomorrow to find out the next step.

The Friday before last my mother in law found out she has stage 3 duodenal cancer, which is so rare the doctors are treating it as small bowel cancer because they really don’t know how to treat it. This came as a big surprise. She starts chemotherapy next week and I will be flying out to stay with her for a couple days the week of Thanksgiving.

I’m tired and ready to call it a day after a nail-biting baseball tournament day with Connor and coffee with dear friends this evening.

I am finding that there are no A+B=C explanations for why God does what he does. At least those kinds of linear, clear, neat explanations don’t satisfy me. But a look at the cross of Christ does. A look up at an all-powerful, sovereign, good and holy God gets my eyes off why and on what. What do you want me to do? What do you want me to learn? And even more that that, it takes the questions off the table, at least for awhile, and causes me just forget myself and be in awe of one greater than me and my circumstances. To get lost for a moment in the wonder of God and his plan for the universe and little speck of dust me… to think about the fact that I am his creature, he made me, in his image, and for his glory… The whys and the whats fall off the radar and I can look back down at where I’m at in life and have a sense of peace that says, “All will be well because I am His and He is mine.”

Quieted,

Sheila

This is just to decompress

Today was a very full day. And seeing that it’s 9:49pm and I work tomorrow this is going to be a very succinct post. Mostly just a way to get out of my head all that’s bouncing around. Read at your own risk.

I had the past four days off. Yesterday I attended a vendor meeting for the upcoming Front Porch Pickins Vintage & Handmade Market. The market will be November 4th and 5th at the University of Phoenix stadium where the Arizona Cardinals play. An understatement would be the place is huge. Another understatement would be: I’m feeling a bit nervous. Beginning Wednesday, this market is being advertised on HGTV, DIY Network, The History Channel, Fox AZ, Channel 12 AZ… I just get the feeling I’m going to get a lot more customers than I usually have at a booth I’ve run. I’m the third booth people will see when entering the market. Gulp.

Lots to do because of the above, but thanks to a friend and neighbor, I’ll have help! She’s done many trade shows before and knows what to expect. She’s officially Goats Make Soap Co.’s administrative assistant/ event planner/ keep the soap maker from passing out lady.

Despite this big venue coming in 2 weeks (breathe Sheila, breathe) I am trying to not let the million things I need to do keep me from my family. This week is fall break and both the boys have been home all week. Today was a day scheduled to deliver to purchased does to their new owner in the Williams, AZ area. I figured we’d make a day out of it so after dropping off the goats at their new residence, we drove to Bearizona! It was soon worth it! We saw bears, mountain goats, burrows, Mexican wolves and even a huge Bison giving birth!

We got home 30 minutes before swim practice, so it was basically a potty break/change into your swim clothes stop. Not really arriving home.

At 7:30 this evening when we got home officially, after swim practice, I made four batches of soap.

I have 560 + bars of soap for this venue. I hope it’s enough.

Time to hit the hay. Tomorrow I’m a R.N.

Quieted,

Sheila

Sore throats, Puppy love and County Inspectors

(This pic has nothing to do with the post, but it just makes me laugh. Pic of me as an infant looking in horror at an armless doll sitting in front of me.)

This is only my second week of working two shifts a week. I like it. I’ve had the last three days off and thought I was going to be busy.

Monday I had planned to drop off the two barn cats at the spay and neuter clinic at 6:45 am and then take a day trip north with my neighbor so she could pick up a rooster and check on some goats we had sold to a lady there. Tuesday I was planning to go to Bible Study Fellowship, make soap and work on narrowing down a decision for where to pursue my BSN. Today was supposed to be the household chores and errands day, plus a buyer for my last two does was supposed to come pick them up today.

Instead, I cancelled my day trip with my neighbor on Monday, anticipating too much packed into one day. I took the cats to the vet as planned and started making soap. By half way through the day a sore throat was coming on. I shrugged it off as allergies or maybe too much fragrance oil in the air from soap making. I went to the gym and while I was there I broke into a cold sweat. Sure I was running a fever, I wiped down the equipment I was using 1/2 way through my workout and went home. No fever, but by the evening I was miserable.

Tuesday morning I woke up looking like I had an allergic reaction, my face was so swollen, my throat was sore but not as bad as Monday night and I felt like I had been on a roller coaster for three days. Ugh. I slept off and on all day. James had taken Tuesday off so he got the kids off to school and spent the whole day getting ready for the county inspector who was scheduled to come sometime between 8 am and 4pm to check on his progress on the front porch job. By late Tuesday afternoon I was feeling much better, thought I had slept off this virus and decided to go attempt some kind of exercise. That was a bad idea. As soon as the blood started flowing the virus woke up and said, “We’re not done!” I went home, showered and went to bed early.

Today I’m feeling better, but decided against doing much moving around so as not to arouse the nasty sleeping virus in my body. I was expecting the lady from somewhere between Flagstaff and Williams to come pick up my last two does today, but around 12 she texted me that she and her hubby had overheated their older pickup and were now waiting for a tow truck. Sale not cancelled, but postponed until an agreement and meeting place and time could be arranged since it doesn’t look like her vehicle will be up and running any time soon. (I might just ask her to pay for gas and make a trip up to the Grand Canyon on one of my days off and take the two does with me.)

I did get some housekeeping done, some laundry and some correspondence with family. One of the best parts of today was when I decided to just go outside and attempt to plant some scallion-like bulbs, peas and leeks. I don’t know what it is with me and gardening. I think it’s just lack of faith. From inside my cozy house, the view out my window to the dry desert dirt that is my front yard, littered with thorny weeds, seems to steal away the idea that anything might grow if I plant it. I look out there and it looks so barren and dry. But when I get off my duff, walk out the door, grab a pair of gloves, water hose, garden tool thingy, seeds and get down on my knees and start pulling weeds, tilling dirt, adding water and poking seeds into the ground I feel a mysterious sense of health. There’s just something about putting your hands in dirt with the intent of killing weeds and growing flowers and vegetables that clears the mind and makes you feel better! I need to do it more often.

James is not a happy camper right now. He spent the last three days off digging gigantic squares in the ground where the footers (?) for the posts where the new front porch will go. He even built forms to put in the squares in the ground to pour the concrete in. But when the inspector guy (who was very loud and brash) came and told him he was overkilling the post holes and asked where the property line was (which James wasn’t prepared to answer and didn’t know exactly), he felt like he had wasted time, labor and money getting ready for the guy to come. After the inspector left he started digging around to find out where the property line is, what he found threw a giant wrench in the whole plan. Apparently he is going to have to fill and re-dig these footers a foot or two closer to the house than he has. Not good.

Ryland is currently at his swim team practice. Connor is probably home trying to explain to his dad why he’s 15 minutes late getting home. That won’t go well. One of my two middle school aged sons has a “girlfriend” (Read he likes a girl his age and she likes him and they blush and text each other smiley faces and talk about how much they hate ceramics class. I know. I read his text messages. That was the agreement when he got a smart phone- parents have free access at all times.) This is a big turning point in our lives as parents and his life as a boy becoming a young man.

I remember being 13. I didn’t care about boys yet then. By the time I was 14 I liked Bobby Troop, but he had no idea I existed and I was a foot taller than all the boys that knew me so I had no boyfriends. It was probably a good thing. I’ve been praying for the girl that likes my son- that God would use her influence in my son’s life for His good purposes. From their birth I’ve dedicated both Connor and Ryland to the Lord. I pray that God would use their friendships, even the girl kind, to draw them closer to him.

There’s lots of scary things in the world when it comes to teenagers and dating. Everything in our culture is sex-crazed. There is no innocence in dating or courting or whatever you call it. I know the world my sons are growing up in has a totally twisted view on the relationship between men and women. I just pray that God would use all the relationships in my kids’ lives to draw them to Him and that he would keep them from destructions that come in all kinds of teenage foolishness.

Prayerful,

Sheila

another day in the books

We had farm visitors today! A soap customer and a nurse I used to work with came with their sweet kiddos to check out the baby goats and pick some soap. Of course, the baby kitties were a hit too. Even the chickens drew their attention.

I enjoy sharing the pleasure of having a little farm with others. I never would have thought I’d get to do that!

Today was day 1 of 4 off work. I worked three days in a row and that’s enough to tucker a girl out!

Today was a rest and visit day. Tomorrow is a Goats Make Soap Co. business day and another disbudding day. We have a set of twin bucklings that need to be disbudded. I’m not looking forward to it at all, but it has to be done.

Goats Make Soap Co. may soon have soap on the shelf of a store in Madrid, Spain! We received a request from a merchant in Madrid who would like to stock our soaps in their little store. So exciting!

Ryland had band practice this evening and Connor baseball. Saturday and Sunday will be a tournament weekend for Connor in Gilbert. And then another 12 hour shift at the hospital for me. Mother’s Day is coming, then Nurse’s week, then another doe is due to kid, and then school is out for summer!

The days fill up and go by so fast. When I get a chance to stop and survey, a week or two has passed and before I know it it’s a new season and I have two sons fast becoming men entering their 7th and 8th grade years.

Sigh.

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants! Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil. Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children. Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands! – Psalm 90:12-17

Quieted,

Sheila

My throat hurts.

I got up at 5:30 am on a Saturday morning to milk the goats and get ready for Ryland’s first swim meet.

Ryland is not my sports-driven kid. He has NO desire to play baseball like his brother, or any other sport really. So when he asked this spring if he could do swim team during the summer I was all over that.

If he doesn’t want to play sports I’m fine with that. But I do think having some kind of athletic part of your life is healthy. Ryland is not a great swimmer either and practicing an hour a day during the summer is a sure way to improve his swimming. And boy has it… and it’s only been 2 weeks!

He finished 1st in the 50 meter freestyle in his 9 and 10 year old boys age group! He was thrilled.

Connor and I decided to give the parent volunteer timer thing a go. I was a bit nervous that one of us would mess up, but turns out using a stop watch and writing down times is something we can do! Smile. It was a good morning.

Today my man turns 43. I’m a wee bit uncomfortable about how close this makes me feel to 50. The years are going by so fast! I want them to count. For eternity!

I start back to 12 hour shifts of regular acute rehab nursing (no more light duty) next week on Wednesday. I’m very thankful for the time I’ve had at home these last 3 months, even though I am ready to go back to work. Being home has enabled me to be there for my son in a very hard time, be there for all the kiddings of my goats, and to learn to make soap! Thank you Father! Even if it took a broken wrist.

Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. Especially in the morning hours. Pathway Bible Church, my church family for the past 3 or 4 years (I’ve lost count), will worship together for the last time tomorrow. Our pastor is retiring from pastoring after 40 something years! But he’s not retiring from serving the Lord with his life and talents! I’m so happy for him and his wife who have become good friends… family! I’ll miss them tremendously as they’ll be moving to Oregon. But if they have to move, Oregon’s a good choice! I visit my family there every summer and now I’ll be adding them to one of the family we get to stop and visit.

It’ll be a hard day too, not just because my pastor and his wife are moving, but because I have been so blessed to get to teach the kids at Pathway in Sunday School and Children’s Church over the past couple years. My heart is invested in those kids! I will continue to pray that the seeds that have been planted in their hearts will produce fruit that glorifies Christ for eternity! I’ll miss them. A lot.

In all the churches I’ve been part of I’ve never seen a church fold like this. I’ve seen trouble and division but always because of some scandal. But tomorrow I will truly celebrate the end of a chapter of worshipping God together with the people of Pathway and hearing the teaching of God’s word from my pastor because there’s a great new chapter ahead. No scandal. No controversy. Just a moving forward by faith. I’m so thankful! I will miss the people of Pathway. May God bless each family as they run the race set before them.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. – Hebrews 12:1-2

Quieted,

Sheila

Summer Vacation: Day 14

I have three blogs. Well, really 2. The third, which will be on our Goats Make Soap Co. website soon, isn’t officially up and running yet.

I have 10 goats now. Danny and Champ are my wethers. Buster, Champ’s brother, is staying with us for awhile, but will eventually go back to his home with his dam. Darla, Daylight, Daisy and Esmeralda are all in milk. Hand milking 4 does every morning is quite the chore. So I’ve worked a system where I milk Darla and Daylight one day and Daisy and Esmeralda the next. This works for now because I still have Daylights twins, Luna and Star, Daisy’s daughter Lily and Esmeralda’s daughter Mulan. But soon (I hope) the buyer for Star and Lily will be taking them to their new home and I’ll have a doe with no kids to keep her milk emptied out. This will work out OK because Daisy and Daylight will (hopefully) be going to their new home also sometime the middle of this month. This will leave me with 6 goats. Two dams in milk, two doelings and two wethers. And that’s just the goat part of my life.

I have a very entrepreneurial husband who is quite the dreamer. He’s always dreaming up ways to invent the next great thing or start a successful small business that would free him up to work autonomously. Being a police officer fits his analytic, driven personality. But the para-military style work-life of policing doesn’t. He’s a very creative, talented, driven guy and when he caught wind of my goat milk soap making hobby his eyes lit up with an entrepreneur glow. By the end of two weeks he had a website started and a logo designed. The man is a machine!! In the mean time I’m making soap, honing in on my base soap recipe and what essential oils and “flavors” I want to use in my soap. I’m giving soaps away to everyone (which makes me happy) and I’m very surprised at the feedback: When can I buy some more?

I’m not a business person. I have a hard enough time keeping a personal budget and balancing my own checkbook so its a good thing I have this driven guy doing all the tasks that need to be done to put a business together. If it was up to me I’d probably just make soap, give it away and maybe sell some on Etsy. Who knows, maybe my dreamer will get his dream and I’ll be the happy soap maker.

Besides blogs, goats and soap (I won’t even get started on the chickens, going back to full-time work schedule, looking for a church and trying to get back to the gym after a broken wrist), I have these two boys sprouting into men in my house. They, by far and away, are my dream and drive. Yes I enjoy writing (blogging inconsistently). And Lord knows I just love those goats! And the soap… it’s just plain old fun and rewarding. But my boys. Mom to men I am. That overwhelms and weighs on me, and gets me thinking and praying all day long!

In a few short weeks I’ll have a 7th grader and a 6th grader in my house. Two sons in middle school. Someone tell me what happened to the time warp between that day in 8th grade when I looked in the mirror in the bathroom of my childhood home and wondered what I’d look like when I was 30 and now! 30 is 11 years ago already! What?!!

I so I wish I could put my life on pause and regroup and get a few steps ahead. I can’t. But I lift up my eyes to the One who rules over time. My times are in his hand. He knows that life feels like waves sweeping over me and I can barely catch my breath.

But I <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-14346AC" data-link="(AC)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; font-family: ‘Helvetica Neue’, Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”>trust in you, O Lord;

I say, “You are my God.”

My <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-14347AD" data-link="(AD)” style=”box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;”>times are in your hand; -Psalm 31:14-15

Ok. Now to GoatsMakeSoap.Com to get that driven husband of mine some hope that I’m not gonna squelch his dream and give away all my soap. A few paragraphs of effort on his really nice site (you should check it out– it is still in progress thanks to his contemplative wife) should help.

Quieted,

Sheila

Journal of a Milk Maid: Day 1

Warning: This post was written last night under the influence of head cold medicine.

I think I can add Milk Maid to my list of titles.

Today was my first day milking Darla. This is her first freshening. First time on the milk stand. First time for everything.

I’ve been a little reluctant to start milking her. Honestly, I’m having fun but I’m also taking this very seriously. I feel like I’m discovering my place in the world is homesteading. Some people love the city and the hustle and bustle of lights and action. Me, I am finding myself giddy with happiness at the smell of alfalfa, the shoveling of goat droppings, the baaaing of momma and kids, and the tinny squirt of fresh milk hitting the stainless steel bucket.

So along with all the euphoria I’m feeling right now with my first experience raising dairy goats I’m also feeling the need to get it right. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading about dairy goats and milking and the benefits of raw goat milk vs. pasteurized goat milk. I wanted to have all my ducks in a row before milking Darla, but yesterday I read a post by some person in the goat forum world that basically said: If you have a goat in milk all you really need is a clean bucket… the rest is for show. Now, I don’t completely agree with that statement, but it did make me realize I didn’t need every piece of designated dairy equipment before I began milking my doe. So I gave up my online shopping list and just went out there with what I had and milked my goat. This afternoon I set out to Walmart to look for the needed supplies and came up with all that I need for less than $80 which is about $80 less than I would have spent if I had ordered online the said dairy equipment.

I didn’t get much milk for our first milking, but that’s probably partly because I didn’t separate the kids from the momma last night and partly because I didn’t milk her for very long. Like I said it was sort of a spur of the moment decision to stop researching and waiting for the perfect equipment and set up and just go out there and milk. I feel good about how the first milking experience went. Today began the practice that will soon become habit.

The 13 ounces I got from my brief milking of Darla this morning I decided to pasteurize. After all the reading I’ve done, I think we will probably stick with raw milk. It just makes sense. But because this morning’s milking was so spur of the moment, and because I wasn’t sure that I did everything right as far as shaving and cleaning her udder, I decided to err on the side of caution and pasteurize the milk.

Tonight I did a blind taste test with the kids to see if they would be able to tell the difference between the whole milk we had in the fridge from Walmart and the freshly pasteurized goat’s milk. Surprisingly they both picked the goat’s milk as tasting the best and they both identified it as the goat’s milk. They said they were surprised because they thought it would taste “funny” but it actually tasted creamier and sweeter.

Honestly, I remember the bitter, bucky taste of goat’s milk I had a as a kid and in the back of my mind I feared that I was going to go through all this trouble and have a product I didn’t like. But it didn’t turn out that way. The goat’s milk is really delicious. It doesn’t taste “funny” at all. It’s creamier and sweeter and leaves no bitter aftertaste. Tomorrow, if all goes well, I’ll keep the milk raw and use it. I’ll be interested to see if the taste is different from the pasteurized milk.

And here’s a cute little guy I ran into on the way to get hay this morning:

Quieted,

Sheila

A mouthful of a day

Today started off, off, and has continued that way.

The husband stayed home sick. The kids were informed last night right before bed that the announcement by dad that there would be no school today was really just an April Fool’s trick. This produced tears in one childand I decided we probably overdid the April Fool’s stuff this year even though we all do like a good practical joke. This morning I decided to take the boys out for a breakfast sandwich as a peace offering for yesterday’s shenanigans. A bacon-Gouda sandwich can make lots of things better.

When I got home, the husband was still passed out sick and so I set about daily tasks. Stepping for a cup from the cupboard I plummeted through the floor in the place where there was (yesterday) a vent cover. After a brief assessment- nothings broken, laceration butterfly-fixable- I realized I may have just pushed my leg through not only the vent but also the ceiling to the bedroom below my kitchen floor. What had begun last night, before the husband’s sickness hit him, as a simple install of floor vents with one minor glitch in needing to adjust the size of the vent in the kitchen, was now going to be an enormous home-repair project.

I’m very thankful for my man’s handyman-ness. He can do many home repair and construction projects very well. He can also be the least happy person to be around during such repairs. I knew I had the dreaded task of informing my stuffy-head, sore-throat, headache, just-crawling-out-of-bed husband that there was a hole through the floor… through the HVAC system, because I had stepped into the vent space. Not my favorite thing to do.

He was gracious, “Not your fault…” followed by sighs and pacing outside, followed by hours of banging, pulling, a couple fist poundings on the floor, some choice words and lots of time online doing wife-damaged-the-HVAC research. I offered to help, but, yeah, “No thanks…”

So, trying to salvage what was left of my hope for making it a good day, I did a workout outside, some laundry, made lunch and checked in one more time to make sure there was nothing I could do. Still nothing.

As I was sitting down to eat lunch I noticed my momma goat, Darla, outside flopping all over the ground with her tongue sticking out. (I’m not making this up). I just about choked on my fish taco and ran outside yelling at my husband to call the vet. He, being the calm detective that he is, sauntered to the patio and said, “She’s probably got something stuck in her mouth she’ll be fine.” I, on the other hand, was in CODE BLUE mode as I approached my 2 week postpartum doe with her grey (should be pink) tongue hanging out of her mouth. I picked her up with strength I didn’t think I had and the force of my grab must have acted like a Heimlich Maneuver because she coughed a couple times, shook her head, licked her chops and nibbled at her grain like nothing ever happened.

I’m worn out by now as I sit in the Starbucks parking lot processing the day’s events waiting to pick up my kiddos from school. We’ll make a trip to Barnes and Noble so the kids can browse at books while I try to return to what I began doing this morning: chewing my cud. I should clarify: meditating on God’s word.

My world is being parable-ized by my goats. This morning, before all the stuff hit the fan, or the floor vent as it were, I was outside in the cool air feeding my goats, talking to the little kids and watching as my buck was processing the morning’s feed. You can tell they are chewing their cud (regurgitating what’s in their rumen) because their cheeks suddenly puff out a bit and their jaw starts grinding away at their mouthful.

The word for meditating in the Bible has a similar meaning. It means to chew on God’s word, to mull it over. Think about it. Toss it around. Think about it some more. Pray about it. Recite it. Gather application from it. Glean more of the vista God is from it. Learn more of Christ.

It hit me this morning that I haven’t been doing that much lately. I’m sort of in a rehab place spiritually. I’m doing exercises necessary to regain some strength so I can do some real heavy lifting but I’ve been going light on the repetition. I need to take a verse or two and chew on it awhile.

Here’s one I heard today that caught my attention:

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! -Psalm 126:5

I’ve read it before, but as I brought it for more digestion today I tasted something new.

Sowing in tears is inevitable. We Christians are on a road of sanctification. We are being formed into the image of Christ. Did I think the process of being formed into the image of Christ was going to be chocolate and roses? Did I think I was greater than the Master who suffered to purchase the grace that is making me more like Him?

Grumpy husbands, broken HVAC systems, a goat-choking scare… just a minor sanding in the daily grind of shaping me to be Christlike.

I’m gonna keep chewing on this one.

Quieted,

Sheila

Consistently inconsistent

Playin’ in the rain

Mud is fun!

They said they were making a trap door for a bobcat 🙂

Look mom! I’m sinking!

Goof off

Beautiful

Jack. Our new pet bearded dragon.

I know, writers write. But, inconsistent bloggers, blog inconsistently. Especially when they start working night shift.

It’s 1:25am on my day off and I’m trying to stay up so tomorrow I’ll sleep late in preparation for staying up all night at the hospital.

The first two shifts were interesting. I remember why I didn’t miss hospital nursing. I also recall what I love about caring for newborns and their mom’s and families. It’s not all Leave It To Beaver out there. In fact, I don’t think there’s a single Leave It To Beaver family having babies anymore. But it’s great opportunity to teach, encourage, value life, and be a blessing.

I don’t want to be a complainer. I want other people to leave working with me as a nurse feeling uplifted, and helped, not criticized and dumped on. It’s a shame how many people come to work complaining about the work they have to do.

James has got most of the upstairs bathroom finished. Just needs drywall, paint and a shower door. Next project on the list is knocking out a wall separating the upstairs bedroom from the living room. That will create a larger living room and reduce the house from being a 4 bedroom to being a 3 bedroom.

I read this today in a daily Bible reading plan I’m working through:

But Sihon the king of Heshbon would not let us pass by him, for the LORD your God hardened his spirit and made his heart obstinate, that he might give him into your hand, as he is this day. – Dueteronomy 2:30 (emphasis added by me)

It caught me. God hardened him so that God could give him into his people’s hand. God made it hard for his people, so that God could be the one who very obviously gave them victory over such hardness.

Hmmm. Something to think about next time I wish someone or something wasn’t so hard.

Quieted,

Sheila

Refuge in the Unchangeable.

I haven’t written consistently over the past few years. In fact, I stopped blogging and journaling about 4 years ago when my husband and I separated. I felt like God shut my mouth (or hands). In part I couldn’t write publicly because I was afraid of what would come out and the further damage it may cause. But mostly I just didn’t have the overflow of thought to pen or keypad like I had before that major earthquake hit my life. It wasn’t really until my pastor encouraged me to write more that I started doing so. But, even since then, I’ve been very inconsistent. Tonight, while reading his blog, I was immediately reminded that I need to “stir up the gift”. I may have had a season of being quiet in my writing/blogging, but it’s time to start again, and if I don’t shake these cobwebs off, and keep writing I’m gonna be wasting something God gave me. Not that each post will by any means be “inspired”, but I certainly could improve at being more disciplined in writing for the value of the exercise itself.

I watched the eighth graders at Wildflower (the school where I’ve been employed as a nurse for four years) commence into high school today. These four years have gone by so fast. So much has happened. When a period of time is eventful it seems to go by more quickly. When I started at Wildflower I was at a very low place in my life. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want my life to be the way it was. But God put me there. And I’m convinced, after these four years, there were at least some specific children I was put there for. Not that I was the main instrument of ministering. Those children were used of God in my life more than they’ll ever know! I was never “Nurse Sheila” before. And being called “Nurse Sheila” will feel like a hug to me henceforth.

Watching those kids walk in the commencement ceremony today, it hit me: Connor is going into fifth grade this fall. That’s exactly the age these kids were when I began caring for them at Wildflower. This means my firstborn son is going to be graduating from 8th grade in a flash! Oh dear. I haven’t much time.

There are so many changes on the horizon, and, although I know and have great assurance that my good God is sovereign over them all, and has, in fact, ordained them to be, I am still a bit queasy for all that movement and change occurring right now. I’m starting a new job in the hospital this month. James purchased a fixer-upper house which we will be moving into at the end of this month. The house is on horse property and is in a county-island with a Surprise zip code. The boys will either have to be driven daily to the school they went to this year (it’s a good school) or go to the school where our new house is. I like the idea of them going to a school in their neighborhood. I like to know my neighbors and have my kids involved with the kids in their neighborhood. Going to the same school as your neighbors is a good way to do that. But I also don’t like switching schools. They both love the school they’re at now and so do I. It’s a decision we have to make.

All of this is going down and the boys and I are taking off to Oregon and Northern Cal this weekend for our annual trip home. We’ll be gone for two weeks and when we get back, all those changes will be upon us.

I say all the changes have made me queasy cause that’s literally how I feel. Uneasy. Unstable. It sure is good to know the Rock in times like this… to know where your anchor is.

So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us.This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary. – Hebrews 6:18-19

Quieted,

Sheila