Tag Archives: Winter months

The Longer You Wait

I believe it began with an early purchase of the wreath for the front door. I knew I’d need to wait until Winter passed to hang it, much to Gary’s sadness, but holding firm to my first week of March debut has been a challenge. I think about hanging it everyday, but there’s a sweet spot to be found in the waiting.

The same with flowers. The garden centers are open and brimming with the first round of seasonal beauties, but I’ve resisted walking into one. My self discipline with flowers is minimal, so it’s best to stay away because here’s what I learned about doing things early. The earlier you do them, the longer the upkeep.

By late February, of 2021, my flowers beds were filled with flowering inpatients and I was instructed to water them every other day for weeks to establish their roots. By mid March they began to grow and by June they were absolutely stunning to see. July and August are the hottest months in Texas and inpatients take a lot of water, so, here’s Barb, hose in hand watering every flower bed at least 3 times a week in 100 degree temps. I don’t want to do that again.

June 2021

Last Winter, I brought two of my favorite flowering plants indoors to stay warm and rest. They went dormant, but now are exhibiting signs of new growth, so I’m easing them back outside. I’m perfectly content with those plants and am looking forward to the day they bloom, but in the meantime I’ll wait to see what my heart says about this yard. Possibilities arise in abundance the longer you wait.

Relax and allow me to read this to you:

Don’t Lose Heart

The first time I saw Steven Curtis Chapman was over 20 years ago in a video of his song, Dive, which you can view here. It was playing in a church I was attending, right before someone was going to be baptized. They had a pool inside this church the size and shape of a hot tub, without the jets, that you stood in with the preacher. After saying the appropriate words, he leans you all the way back, completely submerged by water and pulls you back up.

January wasn’t the best and I’m grateful to be standing in February. There has been sickness, trials and tribulation all piled into one month, so by January 30th, Barb sat down and had a 30-minute crying session. This doesn’t happen very often, but I felt better afterwards. Pandora was playing in the background and in that moment I heard a familiar voice. It was Steven Curtis Chapman advertising one of his new songs, ‘Don’t Lose Heart’.

I opened my laptop and Googled the song.

I kept this song open on my laptop all week and listened to it everyday. The timing of hearing Steven’s voice was God using him to pull me out of despair and back into the light. Every word was like water to this weary soul, because my faith was crumbling and I was losing all hope this situation would end. I’d done all I knew to do, but then we need to hand the outcome to God. He wants us to trust His timing and I was failing miserably because I’m human.

Whatever you may be going through let me assure you, the hard stuff makes us better. We can’t see it while we’re in it, but it’s true. Just don’t lose heart.

The First Hour

The dogs know when they see me flip over the sand timer, I’m going to tap the keys for 30 minutes. That’s how long the sand will run, and about as long as I’m good sitting in one spot. I remember when I first started Blogging, I could sit here for hours, and the posts were long. That changed over time. Maybe time revealed how valuable it is. It the one thing we spend that will not return, so try to use it wisely.

I woke up early this morning and it was still dark outside. I didn’t dare turn on the bedside lamp, or the dogs would think it was time to get up. They don’t move until they see the new day streaming in through the windows. It’s cloudy, so the day was here without them knowing it. I sat in darkness and listened to the stillness of the house. I could hear warm air coming in through the vents and was grateful for heat. I knew if I pulled the chain of the lamp beside me, it would illuminate the room, so I was grateful for electricity. There were many things to be grateful for, even the bed I was sitting on, blanketed in warmth.

Leo Babauta says, “There’s a deliciousness to the early morning.” We get to choose to roll out of bed and dive into the day, or wake up early to greet it. The first hour is sacred, and sets the tone for the rest of day.

I walked through the house, lit a candle, and made a cup of coffee. There is one lamp burning brightly as I sit at my desk and type. A nearby clock is ticking more loudly than my typing, but the house remains still. The sand timer has emptied, but I’m not ready to move just yet, because once I do, the house will spring to life. Thank you for sitting here with me in this stillness of the first hour.