I am an address collector.
That's right. I collect addresses. I like to think I am a writer of letters, and a sender of said letters.
But ... alas ... I am not.
I have dreams of being the best writer and sender of letters ... to encourage and brighten dear friends and families lives.
But they just turn into good intentions ... I am sad to say. And those never helped anyone.
So. I admit. I am a collector of addresses, and that is about it.
If you ever do actually receive a letter from me in the mail. It's a miracle.
That is all.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Thursday, September 3, 2015
A Story from living on a houseboat
Once upon a time, a long time ago, like 31 years ago, two young lovers decided to buy a houseboat.
What an adventure. It was our first major purchase together as husband and wife. We had a young son, Jonathan, who was a year and a half.
Before we could move it to our place of residence, Glen Cove Marina in Vallejo Ca. We had to have the pontoons sandblasted, then we had the joy of putting the primer on them, and painting and getting it ready to move. It was a pleasure to work hard together on something we both loved. And it was ours.
After we'd been on the boat for awhile, in our new location, I began to get sick. Not very often, just a little queasy here and there. Never at the same time. After about three months, Thomas suggested I see a doctor. So I did. WOW! I was pregnant. Three months pregnant. (For the sake of this story, that story will be for another time.)
During this time, nothing was the same as before when I was pregnant with my first son. I had a tub I could relax in. No longer. I had a tiny shower, with a five or ten gallon hot water tank. After Thomas took a quick shower, I would have to wait for 30 minutes for the water to heat up enough for me to take a quick shower. Gone were the days of leisurely relaxing baths.
Also, our space was small. We were living on a 42 foot pontoon houseboat. Our actual living space was 10 x 30. Think trailer on pontoons! What used to be charming, soon became claustrophobic. Then my dear husband began saying things like, if you bring one thing onto this boat, you need to take two things off.
I grew to absolutely hate living on the houseboat. I hated living there, and my husband loved living there. You see ... he was in the Navy, serving on a small fast attack submarine. So when he came home, our space was quite roomy to him. And he was gone a lot.
I didn't see how this could go on. I hated living there with a passion, he loved it. It was awful. I could see no solution whatsoever.
One day, at the total end of me ... although at the time I didn't see it. I got so frustrated, and feeling helpless, I cried out to God. Well. It was more like yelling. I paced and yelled at God. Something like this.
I HATE LIVING HERE GOD! AND THOMAS LOVES IT. BUT IF YOU MEAN FOR US TO STAY TOGETHER, AND I BELIEVE YOU HAVE SANCTIONED OUR MARRIAGE, THEN YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE ONE OF US. AND I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BE CHANGED. BUT I KNOW BY ME PRAYING THIS, YOU WILL PROBABLY CHANGE ME! AND I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BE CHANGED!
I walked and yelled for quite some time, but that was the gist of it all.
Nothing changed. Except, by being honest, and getting it all out. To God. I sensed some relief. I still hated living there, but I didn't quite feel so passionate about my hate of living there.
Then one day, the following year, a few months after Samuel was born, maybe May, I'd taken the plastic off the windows that we'd used for some insulation over the winter months, and was nursing him. The rocking of the boat was gentle, The sun was shining, the day was peaceful. As I sat there nursing my newborn son, I had this thought. I could not imagine living anywhere else.
WHOA! WOW, God! YOU CHANGED ME!?! By then, I didn't mind being the one to be changed. I'd grown to love living there again. Nothing had changed in our circumstances except we had even less space due to things we needed for our new baby, plus 2 1/2 year old. Thomas still asked me to take two things off the boat if I wanted to bring anything on it. Plus all of the other things.
I continued to enjoy living there, with all the adventures we had, until a third child was born to us. Then when Sarah Anne was two months old, we did move off the houseboat. With both of us in agreement and in God's perfect timing.
Isaiah 55:8-9
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.
What an adventure. It was our first major purchase together as husband and wife. We had a young son, Jonathan, who was a year and a half.
Before we could move it to our place of residence, Glen Cove Marina in Vallejo Ca. We had to have the pontoons sandblasted, then we had the joy of putting the primer on them, and painting and getting it ready to move. It was a pleasure to work hard together on something we both loved. And it was ours.
After we'd been on the boat for awhile, in our new location, I began to get sick. Not very often, just a little queasy here and there. Never at the same time. After about three months, Thomas suggested I see a doctor. So I did. WOW! I was pregnant. Three months pregnant. (For the sake of this story, that story will be for another time.)
During this time, nothing was the same as before when I was pregnant with my first son. I had a tub I could relax in. No longer. I had a tiny shower, with a five or ten gallon hot water tank. After Thomas took a quick shower, I would have to wait for 30 minutes for the water to heat up enough for me to take a quick shower. Gone were the days of leisurely relaxing baths.
Also, our space was small. We were living on a 42 foot pontoon houseboat. Our actual living space was 10 x 30. Think trailer on pontoons! What used to be charming, soon became claustrophobic. Then my dear husband began saying things like, if you bring one thing onto this boat, you need to take two things off.
I grew to absolutely hate living on the houseboat. I hated living there, and my husband loved living there. You see ... he was in the Navy, serving on a small fast attack submarine. So when he came home, our space was quite roomy to him. And he was gone a lot.
I didn't see how this could go on. I hated living there with a passion, he loved it. It was awful. I could see no solution whatsoever.
One day, at the total end of me ... although at the time I didn't see it. I got so frustrated, and feeling helpless, I cried out to God. Well. It was more like yelling. I paced and yelled at God. Something like this.
I HATE LIVING HERE GOD! AND THOMAS LOVES IT. BUT IF YOU MEAN FOR US TO STAY TOGETHER, AND I BELIEVE YOU HAVE SANCTIONED OUR MARRIAGE, THEN YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO CHANGE ONE OF US. AND I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BE CHANGED. BUT I KNOW BY ME PRAYING THIS, YOU WILL PROBABLY CHANGE ME! AND I DON'T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BE CHANGED!
I walked and yelled for quite some time, but that was the gist of it all.
Nothing changed. Except, by being honest, and getting it all out. To God. I sensed some relief. I still hated living there, but I didn't quite feel so passionate about my hate of living there.
Then one day, the following year, a few months after Samuel was born, maybe May, I'd taken the plastic off the windows that we'd used for some insulation over the winter months, and was nursing him. The rocking of the boat was gentle, The sun was shining, the day was peaceful. As I sat there nursing my newborn son, I had this thought. I could not imagine living anywhere else.
WHOA! WOW, God! YOU CHANGED ME!?! By then, I didn't mind being the one to be changed. I'd grown to love living there again. Nothing had changed in our circumstances except we had even less space due to things we needed for our new baby, plus 2 1/2 year old. Thomas still asked me to take two things off the boat if I wanted to bring anything on it. Plus all of the other things.
I continued to enjoy living there, with all the adventures we had, until a third child was born to us. Then when Sarah Anne was two months old, we did move off the houseboat. With both of us in agreement and in God's perfect timing.
Isaiah 55:8-9
For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.
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