It’s All Little Stuff

It’s been a difficult week.

With miles to go before it’s all done, I’m tired beyond belief from unpacking. Fatigue and soreness from hauling boxes up and down stairs along with finding so many things that need fixing has me struggling just a bit to find bliss in my new abode. We made this choice and we certainly own it….still, it will likely take time for me to fall head-over-heels with our new home. Scorpions aside, our middle-earth home (still unsold) was nearly perfect in every way. It was love at first sight: from the moment we moved into that house we sat back and relaxed (mostly), in awe of it all. Fear not….I’ve made progress on getting my head into a more contented place. Another room of boxes has been emptied. The guest room is shaping up satisfactorily. Once I made the bed and placed the crucifix that mom painted with flowers on it above the iron bed I was able to smile–even hum a tune– allowing acceptance over the new order of things to wash over me.

The Poodle sits in the doorway of the sunlit-filled room as I adjust pillows on the guest bed. With a final smoothing of the quilt I turn to him. “This will do, don’t you think? I say. His head tilts to one side.

The room just needs a good coat of paint….along with the rest of the house.

Ah….Yes, I know. Sigh.

My world, filled with worries and weariness, pales in comparison to the souls in Texas and Louisiana. As I watch the devastation unfold on T.V. and social media I can only imagine –as I sit with a roof over my head–the depth of despair these folks are experiencing as they live through the catastrophe of Harvey.

I struggle loving my new abode but oh I’m ever mindful that in the blink of a second this all could be gone! I curse that I cannot fit a cookie sheet into my Lilliputian-sized oven while in the same breath I heave a heavy sigh for lives –and homes–upended and lost to Harvey. Cracked floor tiles are inconsequential in the scheme of things as is the likelihood of yet another hefty expense because our dryer isn’t venting to the outside. Inhale, exhale. I fight the feeling of being completely overwhelmed yet again.

It’s all little stuff !

My stone Buddha, its features chiseled away by five years of weather as it sat in our Alabama back yard has a new home on our front doorstep. Lizards may not find refuge here as they did in middle-earth but it’s my hope all who come to visit will feel peace and love as they step through our door.

So, while it has been one frustrating thing after the other this week I count my blessings, great and small. I have a roof over my head and a new refrigerator to hold my food. Family and loving hugs are seventy steps from my back door and The Poodle is glued to my side. Better still, Rocket-man has safely made his way home again from his travels.

I have all that I need. But my heart is heavy for those who do not.

3 thoughts on “It’s All Little Stuff

  1. Lovely analogy of how blessed we are compared to those whom have been upended due to the hurricane. (And so many others whom struggle with various situations in their lives.)

    I pray The Lord watch over the 3 of you in your new home & that many wonderful memories will be made. Stay safe. May God Bless all!


  2. We all have to eat our ‘elephants,’ one bite at a time whether it’s related to ‘stuff’ or internal thoughts. That’s what’s known as progress. Here’s hoping a nice long weekend will give you some respite and some loving joy with the feast.


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