Announcement: I am still alive.

Dear Blogging World,

I apologize for my lack of communication.  Consider this your official notice:  I am still alive and kicking.  Well, maybe not kicking.  But alive.

Please excuse me while I take a break from normal posting.  My house is a mess of boxes while we get ready to move on August 1st.  And fibromyalgia treatment is kicking my butt.  and my legs.  and my arms.  and my neck.  shoulders. back.  knees.  feet.  Really everything.  And while I often think of posting, I just can’t always seem to get my thoughts together and make it happen.  It’s usually on the day I decide to post that all hell decides to break loose in my body.  So, for this I am sorry.

You will have to wait patiently while my life resumes a normalcy after our move.  Perhaps once the stress of moving dies down, my body will calm itself, and I’ll be able to muster up a good “post.”  I have one a-brewing – the second installment of Love Story.  (Yes, that was a shameless plug to keep you interested while I’m gone.  And also true.  So please, wait for me.)

I will see you soon.

With all those mushy ooey gooey butterflies and twinkles,

Molly

Prayer

I just finished two little old books on prayer. It’s the little old ones you have to watch out for. They inevitably pack a punch – one that breaks through the thick wall of your ribcage and turns your insides upside down. Ok, that was dramatic. But really, it’s those authors that cut to the chase and just speak truth that really get to me. They make me question my life and whether or not I’m actually living for God.  And I always walk away with an answer, but not necessarily a change.

This time is different.

Something changed inside me, broke wide open all spilled out, til I had no doubt that something changed.  Never would have believed it til I felt it in my own heart, in the deepest part, the healing came.  And I can not make it, and I can not fake it, and I can’t afford it, but it’s mine.  It’s mine.  It’s mine.
Sara Groves : “Something Changed”

I have never before felt so burdened to pray – both for requests or things on my heart, but also by God’s command to do so.  He wants us to come before Him and ask, beg, push, and listen.   We need to do this in order to maintain relationship with Him.

It’s so easy to categorize prayer as “one of the ways you can connect with God” and just leave it at that.  We put it among singing, reading the Bible, and serving.  And then we decide what we’re good at, or what “works” best for us, and neglect the things that don’t fall into that “category.”  We don’t allow ourselves to believe that prayerlessness is sin!  We are so quick to excuse ourselves instead of falling on our faces and admitting that we just don’t want to do something that God has clearly asked of us.

I’m done with that.  And I’m taking this seriously.  We admire the “saints” who took hours to pray every day, but we are no where near that level of intimacy with God, and rarely aspire to be there.  I want to be one of them, and I’m doing something about it.

Philadelphia Spontaneous Dance Party

Two views.  Pick one and turn up the volume.  Welcome to my world, my babies.

Or:

Update on All Things Unhousewife

Get Fit 101 :

I lost 5 pounds!  Yay!  Progress is (as expected) much slower than I hoped.  Fibro plays a big role in my observation of myself – one day I think I’m really getting somewhere and exercise feels easy, and the next day I feel like I can’t even pick up my weights much less actually use them to exercise.  However, I have definitely developed a new habit of exercise, and I need it in order to function.  This is a beautiful thing.  I’m also really enjoying swimming on the weekends.  Texas is hot, my friends.  Really hot.  Like, I-hate-my-life-right-now-because-I’m-sweating-in-my-knee-pits hot.  But water is good, and swimming feels good on my joints.

Fibro & Guai :

I was awake for three hours last night.  Not good times.  Big un-smiley when I see my husband crawl out of bed to go sleep on the couch, where there isn’t a crazed, body-flopping, leg-running, arm-stretching woman next to him.  Don’t worry.  We’ve talked about this.  It’s no offense.  He has to work, just like I do.  I would just rather not be a crazed, body-flopping, leg-running, arm-stretching maniac in my half-asleep state of consciousness at 2:30am – for his sake and for mine.

Anyway, I am still hopeful from the window I had a few weeks ago.  And that is keeping me going, taking that medication every day, knowing that the next window probably won’t happen again anytime soon.  But we can wait in anticipation.  That was optimistic, right?

Coke Cake :

Hm… How do I explain this.  It was ok.  But it definitely tasted like Coke.  Like… Coke.  And I’m just not so sure how I feel about that.

In Other News :

These two are coming to visit me in August -

LOVE it.

I’m stoked.

Goodbye for now.  Goodbye.

Coke Cake, Continued.

Hello, Lovers.

Flour the pan. Hm...

Is this how you flour a pan?

Pour in bowl.

How much coke is in a can of Coke?

12 ounces.

To be continued…