God's Brat

I would have to say that one of the greater Lessons from Camp Meeting is that, when it comes to being a Child of God, I'm pretty much a brat.

One favorite case in point: I've found myself getting a little pouty that no one has acknowledged the changes I've made since my first trip to Camp Meeting. "C'mon! I'm being so GOOD!..."

And then I realize that, overall, what I've changed is my schedule and the ways in which I tithe my time. Without a church or a strong social circle in Lockhart, my time SHOULD be given to family and the stewardship of our legacy (7 generations connected to one spot). Expecting a pat on the back is immature.

I know God loves me because He waits for me to "get it" before I get my "treat". The song written about my smile that was performed in my cousin's presence was The Reward. The recent reduction in meds is The Proof. My mind, body, and soul are aware; my Ego is sure to follow...eventually.

My cousin's son, age 7, asked me if I was going to Camp Meeting this year. I told him I wanted to if it was okay with everyone. Sure hope it is.

I re-read my post, "Law of Conpensation" this morning. Even being aware of my brat tendencies doesn't seem to diminish my opinion that I deserve monetary compensation from a Certain Person. I can imagine him reading this; wanting to call it extortion. To that I say:

If you leave a fire unattended in the woods and the forest burns down, it's your fault. Acting as if you were a random "lightening strike" just doesn't cut it...you lit the match, Dude. And you walked away with the bliss of a clear conscience. Yes. I am a Brat. The years fighting this Wildfire alone has made me one. It's time for Major Reforestation and quite frankly, I can't afford it financially. The Brat in me thinks I shouldn't have to worry about the cost.

Oh my. I went from Pollyanna to Pissed pretty quick, didn't I. Some days, the Brat in me wins.

Just So Many Hours in a Day/"Let Go, Let God"

Wow. I just looked through my last few entries and I can't believe what's NOT there. Lapses in my writing sometimes surprise me. Life has been so good, so full of new decisions and new routines that I could only blog in my sleep, I guess.

I've been creating a garden on what is (hopefully on paper) my portion of my father's property. I'm a fool for not having my camera with me to document progress. We've had a magical Spring as far as the weather goes so, for now, my efforts have not been wasted. It's really very nice and I made a path for Dad to it. BUT the time to stop planting is now because...

Every time I dig, I find "treasures"; bits and pieces of objects that look very very old. When I took a long hard look at my Magical Clearing, I realized it was likely clear because it was a dumping spot. Dad's started looking at metal detectors and I am looking forward to mornings spent digging! We have a Nearly Useless Project we can share! Dad doesn't know it but God is good.

I found this Magical Clearing when I was taking a walk through the front of the property. I wanted to see if there wasn't a better option for reaching the house than my father's driveway. (There wasn't. What I found was a blissful habitat that the deer, foxes, skunks, et al having been enjoying...very cool.) There's so much underbrush, dead trees, cedars, and rocks that walking around in the woods is a challenge. Luckily, there are a lot of deer runs but that gets old on a 48 yr old back. 'Bout the time I had had enough, I popped into this clearing where I could stand up straight. It's a huge space! Then there was this beautiful breeze...*sigh* Something made me think, "This is it." and I marked the spot the best I could; the Picnic Spot Project had begun. My goal initially was to create a spot to rest while working on the front of the property or to just enjoy when the weather's nice. Now we have "treasure"!

Oh. I failed to mention that this was my Great Great Grandfather's land. It's not just anyone's trash under there...it's Family Trash. So fun.

God is good. One day I hope to convey to my father that prayer per se isn't necessarily the recitation of needs. It's that core of decision-making that takes one to the Greater Good. Standing in that clearing, I felt a connection. I acted upon that, trying to incorporate elements of inclusion i.e. the path and yard work around my dad's house and look at the reward. Amazing.

So now the routine is that I spend Tuesdays in Manchaca. I work/play/lolligag with Dad, cook something for my cousin Doug's weekly songwriters' night, go see a client, go to Doug's, sleep over at Dad's and then see how much I can get done the next morning. (Doug and Dad are on the same little road so I drive less than a mile. I usually drink more than usual. haha) This way my Boo doesn't have to be abandoned as much. Thursdays are in Manchaca for my Aunt Lil but that only makes me late coming home i.e. there isn't dinner waiting for him. Boys.

Speaking of boys, I really do enjoy my Tuesday nights. Too often, the lady songwriters are under-represented but the music is inspiring, the folks (all ages) are warm and wonderful and odd and I get to spend time with my little cousins who are acting as Grandchild Surrogates. 'Guess I've been glowin' because there is a song written about my smile.

Oh. I failed to mention that Doug's place is also part of the original family land. Sometimes when my feet get dirty, I smile cuz it truly is "family dirt". God is good.

I've already gone past my allotted writing time...good. I need to sit and put it down once in awhile. Hopefully I'll do it more than once a month.