Update on my time spent resting in green pastures

Dear Friend,

There are seasons of life when we have to batten down the hatches, tuck ourselves away, hibernate and heal.

Last September I had surgery on my foot. And now, five months later, it feels as though life is finally starting to return to a normal rhythm.

Except that I'm not yet able to take the long country walks I love so much . . .

I'll need to have my other foot repaired in the future -- for now, it's a slow steady pace with a slight limp.

And it's enough.

"All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well."
 -- Julian of Norwich

This time of physical healing has also been a season of spiritual healing. There have been moments of reconciliation. As gentle hands served, old misunderstandings were cleared away and love grew in places where it had once failed to thrive.

Last fall at the silent retreat, dear women -- some of them strangers -- made me comfortable by propping up my fragile foot and bringing me food and drink.

My friend Ana broke the silence to whisper,"Just receive." 

Such compassionate words! Words of communion: Just receive.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake."

Psalm 23:2-3 

"I knowed you wasn't well. Why you try to hide it?"

"I didn't want to be trouble to anyone," I said.

"Everybody has to be trouble to somebody. And you just come from the hospital too." 

I looked up. She sat in the rocking chair bent forward, her arms folded at ease across her aproned lap. Had she searched my pockets?

"How did you know that?" I said.

"There you go getting suspicious," she said sternly. "That's whats wrong with the world today, don't nobody trust nobody. I can smell that hospital smell on you, son. You got enough ether on those clothes to put to sleep a dog!"

~Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man  

I've been missing my blog. I've tried to fire things back up a few times, but the return to normal after a few months off my foot has been a bit of a challenge. I've had a lot of catching up to do! Thank you for reading. And thank you so much to those of you who have noticed my absence and checked in from time to time. I'm as excited as ever about moving forward with my quest. It's wonderful to have faithful readers to come back to.

I'm currently halfway through Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. Then I'll have just five more titles to go and I'll be finished with the WEM novel list. After that I hope to carve out more time to write about what I've read so far. I'm also looking forward to receiving my copy of Pioneer Girl by Laura Ingalls Wilder. In June I'll revisit To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee in anticipation for the release of Go Set a Watchman in July. These titles are pretty much set in stone for me in the coming months. 

Are you making time for deep reading? Don't forget to prop up your feet from time to time. Sip and nibble on delicious, nourishing things.

And if it is your season to receive, don't fight it. 

Just receive.

With love,

Adriana

Can We Talk While I Make Soup?

Dear Friend, 

A couple weeks ago I stood in the produce section of the grocery store with cotton balls in my throbbing ears. 

What meals will I make?  I scanned the room, then meandered over to the organic section and began to analyze the offerings. 

Soup. Just soup until I feel like eating something else!

I selected ingredients for five batches of my current favorites: Borscht, Seafood Chowder, Bean with Bacon, Beef and Barley, and Thai Chicken with Rice.

I love the entire soup-making process. You could say it's my thing. I usually listen to an audio book while I chop vegetables. Sometimes I let my little ones help me with the peeling. 

Borscht 

Last time I wrote a post I believe I promised you an update on my ear issue -- I'm feeling much better and I can hear! I honestly didn't mind having the volume turned down a bit for a little while, but the ear infection was pesky, painful and persistent. I had to go to the doctor five times! I'm grateful to have that behind me.

A couple of my friends are on my heart right now  -- Heidi lost her eleven year old son recently; Tracey has Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome and is fighting for her life in ICU. Now and then as I'm going about my normal daily tasks, I suddenly feel a jab of sorrow and pray: God, help my friends! 

Seafood Chowder

I finished the House of Mirth by Edith Wharton a few days ago. I was relieved to be done with it. I found the main character, Lily Bart, nearly as exasperating as Flaubert's Madame Bovary. If anything moved me about the book it was Lily's vision on her deathbed of an infant sleeping beside her. All five of my babies slept with me until they were weaned. Nothing I've experienced in life has been sweeter. In fact, most of what I understand about God and love and worship came to me while nursing my little ones during those quiet night hours.

Bean with Bacon

I once saw Edith Wharton's signature in the guest book at Biltmore House.  That's the only thing I knew about Wharton until I read her book. 

Something else has been on my mind, something hard for me to spit out. Maybe I'll just bury it here in this unassuming post until I know how to say more . . .

I've recently come to the startling realization that for most of my formative years I was influenced by a cult leader.

This information feels both painful and liberating. It's taking me some time to sort things out.

I used to be so sure about every facet of life: what I should and should not wear, listen to, say, believe, be, do. Looking back I can see that gradually through the years I've shed many things -- like a reptile shedding scales. Some ideas have dropped off almost without my notice, others have been painfully removed, as if a scale has been ripped out leaving a raw bleeding spot in its place.

Up until recent news made me face the full reality, I viewed the cult leader as a distant grandfather figure -- someone I didn't agree with on every point, but someone safe and well-meaning -- certainly not what he was. Like many people, I didn't see the obvious. 

Beef and Barley

My Mimi was right about the cult leader's way of life when she said, "It's not for everybody."

Now I'd even go so far to say it's not for anybody!

I keep having this sensation like I'm skydiving. It's both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

"The more I learn, the more I realize how much I don't know." 

~Albert Einstein 

Thai Chicken with Rice

Ann Voskamp's blog has been helping me a lot lately.

This post by Keri Wyatt Kent has also helped. I love the line she has said to her kids through the years: "I love the person you are becoming." I've made a point of saying that to each of my kids lately. It's good for them and cathartic for me. I don't have to be afraid; I don't have to micromanage your soul. I love the person you are becoming!

These words imply that the future is bright—that I have great hope that they will grow into themselves. It says: you haven’t arrived yet, but I’m trusting the process. It reminds them that they are growing up and they are not you—that crucial process of differentiation that is essential for maturity. It also tells them that they don’t have to be just like mom or dad, or just like their older sibling. It simply says, You are becoming your own person, and that’s a good thing. It’s a way of telling them, “I believe in you!” without sounding quite so cheesy. I think it’s a phrase that instills confidence. And makes me feel more confident as a parent–even when it’s hard to let go.

Well now, I've got a lot off my chest today, haven't I!

Thanks for being there to help me process stuff. 

Love,

Adriana 

Traveling with Gulliver: A Photo Essay

Hi friends,

Hope you are well. I've been a little under the weather lately, but I'm doing what I need to do to get back to health. Thought I'd share a photo essay with you today. These pictures are from a trip we took with extended family back in March. I took my Kindle along and listened to Gulliver's Travels.

 Uncle Indy

Zip

Gifts from my son: "Mama Pinecone", "Baby Pinecone", & "Daddy Pinecone"