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Posts Tagged ‘cold’

The frost heaves have left pits that could eat small cars. So much for driving in your lane. People cross at any time, more afraid of the race of giant, invading potholes than of other vehicles. What begins as cleansing rain lasts only long enough to wash the world in mud, but not long enough to remove the snow–which , by the way, it turns into during the later part of the day. The piles of snow are so high, the mud is so thick, and the trees so barren that it seems the sun will choose not to bring summer this year.

This is Maine. Red brick building against red brick building in Downtown, where a post office and a sheriffs’ department share an overcrowded parking lot and Stephen King’s two-housed mansion juts out on a street only a few houses up from mega drug busts. Yes. With all of its strangeness, this is home.

And I’ll miss it, if I ever leave. The booming metropolis that is seen as the appearance of Buffalo Wild Wing’s next to Hobby Lobby. The wild extravagance that is recognized as Starbucks. The mega church that is a couple hundred people. The weather that is only cold if it is below zero, not below freezing. I breathe in deeply, glad to have known this place, these people, this pace. But ready… oh so ready for change. It sings sings to me in the wind threatening to knock me over–or at least pull my scarf off. It whispers in the penetrating warmth of my fireside. It shouts in the morning as I rise to do my daily routine. Yet, routine, family, life here is so very good and sweet and deep.

Last Friday my coworker invited me to a concert. It was lovely. Not just because Phil Wickham is extremely talented and is one of realest, nicest artists I have ever discovered, but because I was able to enjoy time with a blossoming friend and, with her, true worship of my God. This is Maine too. More than strange contradictions and epic coldness. It is beautiful people, sincere friendship, and warm appreciation of the slower, truer parts of life. Oh, Maine… I’m glad I’ve known you.

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1528476_10202258398838086_581389364_nSpending Christmas Eve Eve with my nephews was thoroughly worth the cold they could not help but share. That said, it made for a strange Christmas. A holiday of slowness. Of television marathons with a grand total of hours that would have been simply shameful under other circumstances. Of sharing tissue boxes and drinking tea and resting in piles on the couch. And then… Christmas was over.

Church came around and post-chaos/sickness cleaning began. We continued to find time to rest on the couch, but soon we did so alone–without my New York Sister or Sister Kate or her husband. There was still fun to be had. In cleaning out closets, we could not help but try on old ball gowns, reliving memories of each occasion. We snatched moments alone to dream and reset. We even eked enough life from ourselves to drag ourselves to the movie theater, catching the Walter Mitty remake. And now as the real world officially begins again, I am grateful for a little more oxygen in my lungs, for good, good memories, and for the new church family that has made me feel so at home.

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Unable to allow my cold to stifle writing forever, I brewed my favorite cup of coffee (saved for special writing occasions only), turned on Pandora, and sat down with my laptop yesterday afternoon. I was surprised by how well the words poured forth. They were not gold, but they were the second-to-last coat of polish that these final chapters require.

I shiver with excitement as I realize how close I am to the end of the novel. Editing well in-hand; printing researched; and we leave in only a few minutes to meet my cover artist to preview the design for Mark of Orion. Can it be?

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Two Sources of Rest

I spent a lovely last evening hanging with some friends I do not get to see enough. That is the thing about good friends, you never get to see them enough.

So even though I was in the pre-stages of the cold going around and could have used the rest, I dragged myself to my feet and enjoyed my evening. By the time I got home I knew that I needed my rest. I determined to sleep in and get back to work this afternoon. It was absolutely the right call.

Rest is important. Sometimes it comes through sleep; sometimes through fellowship with good friends. Sometimes it comes from both sources.

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