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minikin

Minikin's Journal

Routine Ramblings of an Occasionally Interesting Housewife


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Hanging at 3rd Street
Thinking
minikin
I had them fill my starlight-covered cup with cinnamon-white-chocolate, before I read the "Prezidential" offerings, which includes a "Mint Romney." Hot chocolate, not coffee, of course. So, mormons do theobromine?

Anyway, Flar's in Brazil, so I'm on early morning drive duty for a week and a half. I've got Life Group today, but the church building generally doesn't open until 9am, so I'm hanging out at the coffee shop, where there's free wi-fi, and catching up my reading. Then I'll put my mind to some writing. I've been asking to share my story this morning in Life Group. I've got 15 minutes, which is huge - I only had 30 seconds or a minute or something for the baptism. Before-Decision-After; include the date; think about what's changed; but, like figuring out which books and crafts before the clothes when I pack, I'll be thinking about what theme to hit.

I'm going back to No Stones tonight. I can't remember when I last went to the Mat, but I think it was back in September. The class I was in finished up the workbook that I'd long since stopping working; there's a class that's open that I'll be joining, and it turns out there's a few ladies from my Life Group there. My theme could be sexual/relational.

But there are other themes. "Yes, Deb, you can start over." ChildOfGrace spoke those words over me on Monday. Then she asked why I was crying. The wordless book and a child's prayer. Bright yellow and white yarn daisies. A drawer full of bright turquoise yarn. A box full of colored crystal beads. A blank workbook, and a partially written journal. How many tens of, hundreds of projects have I started and set aside? "Yes, Deb, you can start over." And isn't that the essence of grace? My theme could be starting over.

We're studying the nine attributes of the Fruit of the Holy Spirit on Wednesday nights. This week was Love. Faith, Hope and Love, but the greatest of these is Love. My 2008: Faith, Hope and Fear: Fear stemming from health problems with the man I love. Do I really even know how to love? The verb, not the mere adjectival emotion. I am barely learning. My theme could be love.

I've 10 night under my belt now. 2 nights up late working, 1 night up late - but less than an hour - and the rest in bed by 10:30. I don't mention, when I write about my resolutions, tracking them, that late nights, inconsistent sleeping patterns, it's a part of my condition. Oh, I'm medicated, I'm saved, I've left behind many of the stress triggers, but there is mental illness at the base of it, managed and less noticeable. Staying up late, sleeping in, slipping into mild depression and letting "everything" slide, it's still right there, not so far out of reach. The medication allows me control. And right now I'm coping. Okay, this is muddled, and really doesn't tighten up too well into a usable theme. Oh, I have the empathy for others, but this doesn't give me a theme.

Nor does rational thought versus faith, although it twists its way through my story. As does dependence. As do many things.

So yeah, thinking about my story - my testimony, to use big fangled word; thinking while I read, then I'll write.