Category Comfort

How Did the Holy Family Figure It Out?

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It’s crazy how often we find ourselves praying for one thing and then the words of someone we love or respect smack us right upside the head with the truth about what we need in place of what we thought we wanted. This past Sunday, I entered church in a very snippy mood. My children had aggravated me to the point I was not feeling very faithful. I kneeled in the pew and prayed for God to help me handle my little heathens.

It just so happened that this Sunday was the feast of the Holy Family and the readings were about what God asked of Mary and Joseph, how Mary held all the worries and wonders in her heart, and how Jesus grew smart, strong, and full of grace. Our priest Father Tony is one of the most relatable pastors we could ever ask for. He started his homily by speaking on how happy it made him to see the way our community always comes together and the work we do to raise our children well. He went on to say that he knew not all families were made the same. He mentioned the “nuclear” families, the blended families, the families made up of grandparents raising grandchildren, foster families, and any variety of “dysfunctional” families possible. He told us of his estranged brother and how it hurt him to think of his brother’s decision to remove himself from their lives.

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Refrigerator Fancy

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Do you consider yourself to be fancy?

Do you include your appliances in your fancifulness?

At dinner one night, my children and husband were making light of the fact that I was drinking a glass of red wine with my steak. They continued teasing me about my “fancy” wine glass and my love for planning, preparing, and documenting good meals. (I’m not really very fancy, but I guess they have to have something to tease me about.)

As the ribbing continued about my fanciful ways, my son said, “Just look at your refrigerator.”

We all stopped.

What did the fridge have to do with me being “fancy”?

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It’s Okay if Things Go “Sploosh”

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Sometimes I find myself consumed with what-ifs. So consumed in fact, that my thoughts have no where to go but straight to panic mode. As I planned for a recent girls weekend, (one that my worry-logged nerves desperately needed) I asked Hubby to help me with getting a load of firewood. My gal pals and I were staying at a secluded cabin, complete with wood-burning fireplace, and the weatherforecast was calling for snow.

After some impressive chainsaw brandishing, Hubby and I had filled a tractor bucket full of logs. When I told my loving lumberjack that I would stack the logs on the flatbed to drive to the cabin, he told me not to worry. He would simply dump the wood right on the truck, and it would be ready to go. Immediately, my internal anxiety alarms started sounding in my head. He asked if I was okay with that plan. I told him all I could picture in my mind were the logs going “sploosh” as he put them on the truck or flying off as we drove down the highway. He firmly but lovingly put his hands on my shoulders and said, “It’s okay if things go ‘sploosh’ sometimes.”

With that statement my tears wanted to splash but, instead, I found a giggle for his use of “sploosh.”

I knew he was right and maybe, just maybe, if I could get over my fear of the potential “splooshes” in life, I could get past the nervousness that has been nagging at me so heavily lately.

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Swamped in a Hive

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Have you ever tried to have a conversation with a parent who is inundated with the behaviors and requests of their children? It’s like trying to locate the queen bee in a hive of crazy. Nobody is concerned about or can comprehend what’s being said, focus is going in a million directions, and the constant buzz is enough to drive everyone in and outside of the hive crazy.

This past weekend I witnessed my friend, Jamie, at the heart of her own wild hive. We were hanging out at a friend’s shop, and for some unknown-to-our-children reason trying to have a conversation.

While Jamie balanced her son on one leg, her daughter traipsed passed walking her baby doll by the hair. Without warning, the baby doll leapt onto Jamie’s vacant leg and began marching up her arm and then rested on her head. Shortly there after, Jamie’s husband asked her about something he couldn’t remember, and she replied calmly with whatever he needed to know. Barely skipping a beat, Jamie continued on with our conversation. After finishing her sentence to me, she politely asked her daughter to take the doll to play somewhere else. Her daughter’s response, “But I need you to be my jungle gym.”

Well, there you had it.

Jamie was needed.

She was a comfy place to sit for her son, reference library for her husband, an apparatus for her daughter’s baby doll activities, and a hub of conversation for me.

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Biblical Surprise – Wise Words Wednesday

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Fifth Grade homework can be tough. Last week my son’s computer teacher assigned an “About Me” Google Slides presentation. Each slide had a theme and criteria for creation. Of course, there were the “My Family” and “Favorite Hobby” slides, but the one slide that stuck out to me on the rubric was, “Favorite Scripture Verse.”

While this is my son’s sixth year attending a Catholic school, and we attend church every week, I wasn’t sure my son knew any particular Bible verse, much less which is his favorite.

While making dinner, switching laundry, and helping with other homework, I left him to work on the presentation, and waited for his cry for help.

As expected, his call for “Mom” rang out when he hit the scripture slide. His plea was followed by a demanding, “I need the Bible.” (Insert sarcastic Mom statement about needing more than just the Bible in his life, followed by son’s annoyed eye roll.)

After taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a meltdown, I asked if he knew any Bible verses that he liked.

To my Biblical surprise, he responded with, “Duh, Mom, I know it’s in Exodus; I just don’t know the exact number.”

Exodus?!? That seemed like an unusual place to select a favorite verse, but who am I to question divine inspiration.

My 10-year-old proceeded to tell me that his favorite verse is when Moses parted the sea allowing the Israelites to flee Egypt unharmed. This is a very powerful scene, but I wasn’t sure what made it inspiring to him. At the risk of being slaughtered by yet another violent eye roll, I asked what it was about the parting of the sea that stood out.

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Monday’s Message – December 6, 2021

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Happy Monday, everyone! In this week’s Monday’s Message, I just want to express thanks for everyone who read, commented, and sent kind thoughts our way after publishing The Colors of Change. Your support and faith for good things to come is greatly appreciated.

I’m excited to say that this week’s Wise Words Wednesday was inspired by my son’s homework for computer class and his surprising knowledge of Bible verses. Please be sure to check it out and hopefully find some peace and inspiration for yourself.

Additional inspiration was provided by my friend Jamie and her daughter Kate this weekend. So be sure to check out my post Friday on “….and All the Other Things.” If you struggle with the demands of being called to fill too many rolls, this post is for you.

As we are fully immersed in the holiday season, be sure to give yourself the gifts of grace and time. Know that you are not perfect, and that’s okay. You deserve time to be healthy, happy, and dedicate room for planning and coping with all that comes your way this time of year.

If you want to check one gift off your list, be sure to give the gift of Intentergy and put some positive purpose and energy into someone’s day.

By: Melanie A. Peters

P.S. Intentergy comes in everyone’s size.

“The Pissy Prayer”

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All too often I’ve heard that if you pray for patience the Lord will test it. I take pride in the patience I feel towards children, animals, and tedious tasks. I’m not always so patient with laziness, meanness, and ignorance.

Lately, I have witnessed laziness and unkindness in amounts exceeding my limits. In spite, of my prayers for peace, grace, and patience, the will to tolerate such selfish behavior has had me thinking about an alternative intent for my prayers.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still asking the Lord to help the flawed human race find peace, generosity, and compassion, but every once in a while, I want to pray “The Pissy Prayer.”

Now this isn’t a prayer sanctioned by any church or liturgical governing body, but it is one that I think a lot of us could benefit from. (I made “The Pissy Prayer” up myself.)

“The Pissy Prayer“
By Melanie A. Peters

Dear Lord,


Grant me permission to be pissy about insignificant things that others blow way out of proportion.

Grant me fussiness when friends and family fail to recognize and appreciate all the blessings you have bestowed upon them.

In your most holy name, I ask that you help me through this hissy fit and guide me as I lose my good and capable mind over whatever has worked its way into my heart.

But most of all, Lord, grant forgiveness for my imperfections, because that’s what I need to feel and demonstrate in this most imperfect world.

Amen.

I know what you are thinking.

This sounds a bit blasphemous.

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The Fizzle of Summer’s Sizzle

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If the smell of sunscreen is making you nauseous and your flip-flops have blown out beyond repair, don’t worry. You are not alone. I don’t know about you, but once August rolls around, I feel all summer sizzled out. In fact, I am probably a poster child for the Summer Fizzled Out Federation (Not sure that’s a thing, but it should be). It’s been weeks since I’ve posted. Proof positive that my summer craziness has led to a depletion in my ability to put thoughts into words and words into posts. (I just took me 7 tries to type that sentence.)

After three months of working cattle, baling hay, raising fair hogs, coaching baseball, squeezing in doctor appointments, making Bar-b-ques, planning playdates, watering plants, and applying sunscreen, I’m feeling about as withered as the last of my tomato plants. When I talk to other people about how their summer is going, they all seem to voice the same end-of-summer exhaustion.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say they are ready for their kids to go back to school. Those dollars would add up to enough money for an end-of-summer vacation for my family. If I had a dollar for every time one of my kids said they don’t want to go back to school, I would have money for a vacation to Europe and a new car.

Why is it that once we’ve successfully navigated swimming lessons, baseball bleacher-butt, sun burns, mosquito bite madness, garden vegetables coming out of our ears, and lawn mowing lunacy that we have the desire to move away from summer and all its Go-Go-Go glory?

It’s because the fizzle of summer’s sizzle has begun, and that’s okay.

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What We’re Up Against

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Without fail each flock we receive is full of attack turkeys. From day one, they come at you with fluffy wings spread and tiny beaks blaring battle chirps. The little guys in the video had been attacking my feet for a while before I finally thought to capture their assault on video. They might have been little but were definitely mighty.

Have you ever felt like you were up against something so huge it could never be toppled, but you went after it anyway?

It always helps to have someone with you no matter what you face. We may not always be surrounded by our flock of friends and family, but hopefully, we are continually reassured of the fact that we are not alone. Thanks to cards, phone calls, text messages, emails, and kind acts we can all show and know that there are others here for us in tough times.

Whatever we’re up against, it’s healthy to know that we can peck away at problems with the support and insights of our peers. As my family has faced some pretty scary health issues this past month, I cannot tell you how empowering it has been to witness the willingness of others to step up, do what they can, and provide support in all kinds of wonderful ways. From funny text messages, to food drop offs, and personal calls to health care providers, we have been flooded with folks willing to help conquer the beast that has consumed our focus and created much fear.

Cancer has proven to be a nasty illness that comes in more shapes and sizes than we can imagine, but if we continue to wage our war on its ravages, I have faith that we can find ways to wipe it out. We might feel like those tiny poults attacking the boots of a big bad monster, but if we work to do all the things that make us bigger, smarter, and stronger, I’m certain that we won’t be the underdogs forever.

The Intentergy challenge for today is to remember you are one of the mighty. The mighty ones who can bring hope and support to those feeling hopeless. You are one of the powerful people who provide joy, nourishment, and opportunity to those who need a boost. Your energy is what can lead the charge when something has gone very wrong or when others are feeling lost. If you happen to be lost, keep your head up, and don’t be afraid to call out to those who can rally around you.

It doesn’t matter what we’re up against, we have the ability to be bigger than our set backs and stronger than our fears.

By: Melanie A. Peters

P.S. There were about 9,000 attack turkeys coming at me in that video. I am fearless.

Herding Turkeys… : An Emotional Chore

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All in a day’s work….

That’s what I should call it, but have you ever tried to herd turkeys? There is nothing run-of-the-mill about herding turkeys once they’ve escaped from the barn.

On a day when I had the privilege of helping top out buildings*, there was one barn door that just wouldn’t stay on its hinge leaving a gap as we made our rounds through the building. It was through that gap that nine turkeys made their grand getaway.

The thing about turkeys though is that they are not very intelligent and tend to run wild in every direction before making their way back to where they started.

In the case of these nine runaways, they hovered around the outside of the barn because they could hear their buddies inside. Unfortunately for me, they huddled about half way down the barn, and I had to deftly sneak up behind them and shoo them to the other end of the range house. Once we made our haphazard way back to the other end of the building, these fugitives found safety being back in the flock.

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