Love Hurts God heals, part 3

I revisited this old post today because I needed to. I have about three situations of varying degrees of stress cooking on my stove. When you note that my cook top has only 4 burners, that makes for a full, hot and messy kitchen. I am trying to stir each situation with love and faith and keep the contents from scorching the bottom or boiling over. I'm trying to add the right ingredients, at the right time and in the right order, and not sour the situations with the wrong ingredients. I think another pot is being added... Oh my!

Vanessa & Hodgepodge

MMMmm...good. This was breakfast today: Grits with sharp cheddar, garlic, onion and fresh Italian parsley.
~I woke up during the middle of the night. To help me drift back to sleep, I turned the TV to a rerun of The Cosby Show. I was just floating back into dreamland when my mind decided to think of, and name the Cosby kids. I could not recall the name of one of them. I tried Big Daddy's A-B-C trick, but that didn't help. Then I tried to forget about it and just sleep. By then I was back to being more awake then asleep and could not even think about sleep again until I finally Googled to find the name my brain misplaced of one of Cliff and Claire's five children. Can you name them all without cheating? After that I slept. It's not right. I'm not right.~Did you ever wonder how Netflix gets your movies to you so quickly? Here is a nifty article that explains.
~
Fascinating story HERE on Ethiopian Church Forests.

Small Botanical Drawings

India ink and Prismacolour pencils, spring botanical drawing.



Leafy botanical drawing, India ink and Prismacolour pencils.

Some landscape paint sketches & a doodle

Tempera paint:




India ink & coloured pencil:

Some Paint Sketches

This was a picture I took of my garden's bounty many years ago. I know I posted the pic before. I was inspired by it and ended up doing a couple of simple paint sketches.



Marigolds & tomatoes. Plain old tempera on paper.

some quick sketches

Diary of a Poor, Sad White Girl - Or Why Keeping a Journal Helps

photo by Paul Worthington
Madeline L'Engle writes this in the forward to A Grief Observed by C.C. Lewis

"...It is alright to wallow in one's journal; it is a way of getting rid of self-pity, self-indulgence and self-centeredness. What we work out in our journals we don't take out on our family and friends." A Grief Observed is the journal Lewis kept after the death of his wife, and he wallows better than anyone I have ever known, and in so doing, left something helpful to the world of grieving loved ones."

Grief is not my really my topic today. Though surely grief is a factor in my situation, the grief over my Dad’s long and arduous misfortune and then his abrupt and unexpected passing away is the great tragedy of our family. It influenced me in profound ways, and journaling through that was a healthy coping mechanism, whereas other methods of grieving were not so productive. I should have journaled more. Journaling is my subject today, and how immensely helpful it can be for all the reasons L’Engle stated above. Our lives are comprised of good and bad days, and in between days. In one’s journal the heartbreak of the awful day(s) can be recorded in the livid detail and all the ferocious ugliness that often seethes beneath the surface of our pain. (It’s not a pretty sight and there is a good argument to be made for keeping some of it private.) Conversely, our joy can be multiplied and our progressive steps can be plotted and charted. Our journal is our journey.

Even now as I use this blog as a sort of journal I have at times kept some of my entries private because on further reflection and revisiting, I declared them too much of a personal wallow, still others made the cut because I felt that the transparency and confession could be good for myself and hopefully another soul who may be struggling similarly.

Have you ever known someone who’s hurt and pain is so obviously raw that nearly every time you see them the cause of their hurt is constantly and ever present in conversation? I have, and I fear there were some times where I was that person. Sooner or later it wears on their hearers - the friends and family with whom they converse. There comes a time when our genuine concern over our pain-obsessed friend becomes a little exhausted as the same topic is revisited again and again. We want to be a patient and compassionate friend but it is difficult. Those three “self” issues L’Engle mentioned in the above quote factor in. Though we might have the brotherly love of Jonathan and David and the patience of Job, there are times when we ourselves would appreciate a modicum of concern and some sort of friendly reciprocation from our hurting friend. Rubbing to long and too hard in one place creates a blister, and journals can be a helpful way of alleviating blisters.

Keeping a journal works for me.

Just to underscore the title may I recommend: Diary of a Mad Black Woman and Poor Girl by X.