Life according to Angela – Letters from Home

I like this poet.

I like this poet. His name is Malcom Guite.

Although the host interrupts his reading of another poem, I will include it.

Mark is serving his last few weeks of his mission and this post is a record that my missionary “son flowers” arrived again this year. In fact, I had to thin them by about 50% earlier this summer because the ground was so crowded. God is an abundant giver.

My first missionary sunflower showed up 8 years ago on the week that Daniel left, and each year their return has been a symbol of hope for me, a new love language expressed to me by the Lord.

Just like the surprising arrival of the sunflowers, I didn’t expect to have feelings of loss during these last weeks of being a missionary mom. I didn’t realize I will miss this burden that I can now call sweet.

Soon we will end this era of writing and sharing spiritual moments, praying for friends I will never meet from countries far from home, and so many unique blessings and experiences. It has been a good era because the Lord has been very near.

Like the sunflowers, the impact of our sons’ missions grows and multiplies with the years, bringing blessings to them and the people they loved and taught. The Lord of the Harvest is so, so good.

Feeling kind of proud of this.

I’ve finished repairing a piece of furniture, and this will go on my list of great accomplishments in life. 😉 Fellow furniture revivers, you know what I mean.

Almost reassembled, I finally thought to take a picture.

My blistered hand is healing after disassembling, cleaning, reinforcing, and reassembling an upholstered ottoman, collapsed from the weight of teenage boys in our basement. This job required two years of gathered courage and then some ingenuity. It turned out better than I hoped, and it’s all fluffy-puffy goodness for your feet now.

Guys, don’t even think about sitting on this ottoman. It’s just for feet and kids.

It took about seven months

I am tackling a book of 365 daily Shakespeare readings this year. Each day, after a brief introduction, the editor sets the reader free to interpret the text.

It’s jarring for me to be thrown into a different plot every day. I haven’t enjoyed the book, and I don’t think this is a good way to experience Shakespeare. However, sometime in July, I noticed the words were making more sense. I began to appreciate the human experience being expressed and it wasn’t such a wrestle to find it.

It took seven months. Seven!

Why do I share this? Perhaps just to say there is hope for someone who keeps trying.

little things

I don’t do big things lately. In fact, I juggle a schedule of many little things that I won’t list here. I’ve been temped during this season of my life to feel superfluous or unneeded because I’m no longer planning big events, speaking to large audiences, or raising children. But that temptation is a lie.

It turns out that little things, done consistently and with love, are just as transformative as big things. It’s also true that little gestures matter to people.

The Lord chooses to work by small means most of the time. My current season of doing small things helps me trust the Lord’s method of elegant, simple solutions.

Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

And the Lord God doth work by means to bring about his great and eternal purposes; and by very small means the Lord doth confound the wise and bringeth about the salvation of many souls.

Alma 37:6-7

Home for 14 Years

It’s our 14th anniversary of moving into this house. As I focused on this reality today, a parade of events marched through my mind, awakening gratitude. This beautiful house is about 50 years old, showing its age in the creaky floors and some other funky features. It’s seen many residents and many events beyond our’s, but I think we’ve inhabited it well.

It’s a house of faith, learning, and revelation. It’s a house of music and gathering; love and work.

This house has been a protection for us in every way. We are surrounded by kind people. It’s a basic, pretty house with a stunning backdrop of mountains and trails, and I’m glad it is our home.

Found!

Perhaps you’re like me and can think of something that you lost in childhood and never found. I recall a few things that my children lost, and I found one this week as I moved some shelves in the basement. It was a very satisfying moment to reunite this piece to the set.

As I revamp our home after raising children, I remember and remember.

The words, “dismember” and “remember” can be considered opposites. To “re-member” is to be complete again. Recalling the past and reflecting on the fruits of my parenting adventures brings a wholeness to my life that I didn’t expect.

Remembering is also a religious theme. God wants us to always remember Him. It’s a key to being one with Him, complete and whole.

So, how can I remember Him (be reunited with Him) today?

Wildflower morning

Richard and I got up early one morning this week to hike among the wildflowers in the Albion Basin. ♥️ This beautiful area is a 20 minute drive from our home, so it’s a true blessing.

1980’s summer

I am having a 1980’s-inspired summer, relatively low on technology. I recommend this. This low tech lifestyle seems to accentuate the mindlessness of smart phones and social media.

Richard and I took a mountain drive today. The TikTok video being filmed on the side of the road was forgettable in its commonness. Later, at the most scenic moment at Guardsman Pass, we saw a group of three young boys and an adult, resting against the guardrail of the overlook, looking down at their phones. Their backs were toward the view. They were together, but they were alone, each drawn into a world of personal escape. Somehow the majestic scenery couldn’t compete with their little screens. I felt sad for them and couldn’t forget the image.

I don’t know the stories of these people, and maybe I saw something worse than was actually happening. Also, when I was that age, I had nothing like the Sirens’ call of a cell phone to distract me. I won’t judge harshly, but take the reminder to put down my phone so I don’t miss the view.

I don’t have a photo or video of this drive like I posted last week. After these experiences, I decided to just enjoy the view with Richard without a phone in my hand. It seemed like the appropriate 1980’s response to this very modern problem.

The boring answer

Lately, when someone asks me what I’m up to, I have boring answers. The most immediate project that comes to mind is that I’m pulling a lot of weeds each day.

I’ve cleared out all the periwinkle and weeds from our south beds. BIG accomplishment.

Last summer I was under a lot of stress and felt unwell, so this summer I am thankful that I’m pulling weeds and managing life’s demands in gentler, healthier ways.