Yesterday I got up fairly inspired to do something wonderful. It really didn't happen. Today, I woke up fairly sure I was NOT going to set the world on fire. Ummm. Correct.
Mom started talking to me PRE-caffeine about the clutter in my "so-called" room... She doesn't like it... It looks hideous. It is the first impression on all guests and the last because they come in my door... Well, then We got into the truly
My prettties don't play well with hers. And I DO seem to have lost the magic I used to feel when I decorated and puttered and played with my things... And truly.... I think this is a big part of it: I feel bad for the victims of all these floods, tornadoes, and tragedies--- to the point that I just can't get them out of my mind... I think all the deaths and miseries have seeped into the human spirit. We are a sympathetic spirit, we bloggers... We care... and even when we do the best we can for them, pray, and try to move on... the images and the soul-knowledge of what has been happening--- it aches the heart. Forcing it down inside isn't the answer... Bringing it to the throne of the living, healing Lord... that's the answer. But I don't do that as well as I could.
What is the answer? My grandma would tell me to "paint something red."
I know that puttering in my Mom's things hasn't helped me one bit... ignoring the baskets, boxes, sacks, and just plain stacks of "treasures" in my room hasn't helped... Chocolate, although a brief distraction--- not the answer.
Serenity... in pursuit...