After years and years of trouble with my teeth, I’m in the final two months of braces. Yeah!  They even took off some of them yesterday to help the process along. It was like heaven. I even got to floss without the wires on and let me tell you…NEVER underestimate the value of something so simple.  Seriously.

I also met with my college advisor and she told me that my Senior Honor’s thesis could be whatever I wanted. Even something I had already written. So my senior year just got a whole lot easier because I already have my book finished.  And here the mentor’s job will be to help me polish it.  Perfect.  So the reason I wanted to share this good news  is to emphasis the Lord’s hand in our lives. Even when we don’t realize it.

I had always wanted to finish school, and the night we got engaged my husband promised to make it happen.  For the last seven years (of the twenty we’ve been married) I’ve been working on my associates degree (which I finished last summer) and then took a break to work on my book, including the arduous task of getting an agent.  I quit trying when my Mom died and even wondered if I’d ever write again, go to school or do anything besides sleep and cry. This was all at the same time I joined ANWA. Not a coincidence I am sure.

My husband’s aunt (Liz—I love you) had spent many a family reunion talking to me about writing (which she knew I loved) and about ANWA. Well, the day before my mom took ill I had a moment of inspiration to contact Liz and ask her about ANWA.  I thought this would somehow be connected to my desire to get published and that Heavenly Father was helping me.  Turns out he was going to use ANWA for that purpose, but to also help me cope with her eventual death.

The ANWA sisters were full of prayers and hope and support…without any but one even having ever met me before.  The chapter meetings gave me a reason to show up during my grieving and I slowly began to write again. My decision to go back to school was another message/answer from Heavenly Father. I wondered though if my time spent writing was for nothing now considering I had worked for so long on my book. Because school would force me to let it sit a whie.

But then He said that my writing would help me in school and that school would improve my writing.  ???????  I pondered those words for a while and gained some understanding; then just this week understood them even better.  Aside of receiving an academic scholarship for my previous excellence in school, already having my book done and critiqued (by lovely ANWA sisters) has given me the confidence to face future scrutiny in the classroom, as well as refine my writing and eventually help me to get it published.

This answer came through inspiration, and was like the most beautiful circular answer I ever experienced.  Now as I realize that my completed writing will actually HELP me to get my degree—and ease my senior year(because it’s already done) I feel the Lord’s tender mercies again for his interest in my life.

Without prayer and inspiration I don’t know where I would be personally (let alone my writing). I know that these two years of schooling will go by quickly, and yet the Lord has allowed for me to continue working on my story. And what a story it is!  I feel so loved!!

And my ANWA sisters are part of that love from our Heavenly Father. I owe you all so much and I pray for your daily success in life and in writing.  I Love You all!!!!

Karen

1. The deluge of cups and food all over the kitchen counters.
2. Tripping over endless toys throughout the day.
3. Excessive noise which prevents me from reading and writing effectively.
4. Endless video games which adds to the excessive noise.
5. Late night movies which yeah…adds to the excessive noise.

Top Five things I WILL miss when school begins:

1. Having everyone make their own food–even though it destroys the kitchen.
2. Watching my children play with each other and all the “new” toys they find buried within the toy closet.
3. All the noise that keeps me company during the day and reminds me of why I’m a mom.
4. Playing video games with my kids, and watching their smug faces when they beat me–fair and square.
5. The freedom of getting up when I want to after staying up with the kids all night to watch a late night movie.

*sigh* Six more days until all our roles change, and my kids are a little less like kids and a little more like tiny adults. And me right along with them. My kids are already rooting me on, so maybe we can all find a way to keep each other sane for the next 180+ days.  Wish us luck!

Hmmmm I may have to ask her to do this again. For a contest.  What do you think?

This was the–what did I say, three weeks?–21st time I’d eaten cake and you know what? I really hate cake. Never liked it in the first place. But that doesn’t stop Mom from making it. Every single year. And I’m not just talking about the last three weeks during which I woke up, got out of bed, and promptly burst a thousand balloons on the floor. Sigh. I knew they were there. How could I miss them? And to think the balloons were MY idea. A few birthdays ago that is. Wait…scratch that…a MILLION birthdays ago.

See, the day has kept repeating itself. Over and over again. All because I wished over my stupid birthday cake that my birthday would never end.  I was only thinking about Michael Draper and how dashing he looked staring back at my puckered face. Puckered as in leaning in for a kiss…not puckered over the stupid cake that I never blew out.  Stupid trick candles.  But if I never blew them out, then how come this day kept repeating?  I tried everything to make it stop. Even ran away from home. Stupid, I know. But at least I took someone with me. I figured if I woke up from my nightmare then the punishment would be totally worth it.  And hey, if I didn’t? Well, no consequences.

And that my friends was the smartest move I ever made. And believe me, I’ve had some smart ones.  But I figured that if I wasn’t going to get in trouble (or didn’t care because it would mean the day was finally over), that I might as well make the most of it.  So I went bungee jumping (skipped school to do it–hey it’d be there tomorrow, right?), sky diving (don’t ask), and even registered to vote.  That last one was more exciting than you think considering I’m only fifteen. But really, I feel like I’m thirty. A tired thirty. A ‘I can’t believe this day is never going to end and why do boys have to make my life so complicated’ tired thirty.

Now, that’s not to say that I didn’t enjoy kissing Michael for three straight weeks. I mean, hey, it was a great kiss. Then I realized that was the key. Maybe if I didn’t make it such a great kiss then I could wish for something else when it came time for the stupid candles.  So I tried it.

Nope.

Tried hitting him instead.

Nada.

So I gave up trying so hard. Which is totally unlike me. I mean, I excel at everything, though I work really hard. And I mean REALLY hard. You’d think someone like me would really go places, but most of the time I was going insane. Working all day, studying all night. Michael told me to slow down, but I didn’t think he meant it.  I learned a thing or two about taking it slow.  I mean, when the day keeps repeating there’s really no need to go fast.  You can learn a little patience. Learn a little about life.  Not worry that everything will pass you by.  I had time to finally smell the roses.

And that’s when I knew I was done. With the wish that is. I went to sleep with Michael’s rose in my hand, dreaming of tomorrow and how sad I would be when the rose was gone. I was going to hold onto it for as long as possible.

And woke up…with the rose in my hand.

************************

Next week’s prompt is up in the air.  No, seriously. Write about the first time you went sky diving. And if you haven’t? Well, aren’t imaginations, great?

*click*

Familiar, yet annoying screen comes up. “We’re sorry. That site has been blocked. Listed under blogs.”

What the–

Since when are blogs on our firewall’s block list?  I mean, yes occasionally we’ll get in there to block something we don’t want the children on, or when we think they’re spending too much time on a particular area and need a gentle reminder. But me? The Mom? The writer?  Who’s been at my system I wonder. I rubbed my eyes and tried again, thinking that maybe I hadn’t yet fully woken up. Surely the system didn’t just tell me all my favorites sites were blocked.

*click* Yup. No go. And what’s this? My social networking is blocked as well? AND you tube? *grrr*  That explains my nonworking tweetdeck this morning as well. *opens firewall settings and clicks on six different buttons that didn’t used to be clicked*

Part of me is wondering if the site had gone wonky, the other part wonders if it’s a joke from my husband telling me I’ve spent too much time on it. Maybe    But he knows full well that I can change the settings back if I want to, so I guess I’m just dreaming, or maybe having a nightmare. Maybe I should go back to bed and try again later.  Like in 3 minutes when the network reboots with my “newly” clicked changes.

This begs the question though. How do our families feel about our writing? Is it a love/hate relationship? Or does your spouse or child push you onto the computer and tell you to write! Write! Write!

On the bright side the gravatars on my site starting working after all these months. Must have been something I clicked.