Wonderlust be no more

Do you ever begin to question where you are in life? Wonderlust seems to be contagious. Dreaming about "what could be" use to be a favorite pastime. Yesterday though, I found I no longer want "what could be" but am content with "what is."


My job as a home health nurse or my time with the special needs ministry at church, I often find my self loving the unlovable, the ones society want to forget about. And while it would be easy for me compare the differences between them and me, it's the similiarities that always blow me away.


Yesterday, I found my self washing the body of someone who had been so addicted to drugs that they are left scared and mutilated, dying from the inside out from their addiction. I washed the feet of a man who served our country with pride and dedication but is now left in the hands of strangers to care for him. I assisted a woman who had raised children with love and compassion and now found herself living alone and is frightful for the end which is looming. Sunday, I know I will care of a child who does not speak or who does not walk. I will care for a child who hears voices and has delusions about aliens and invasions, who is so angry that he has begun to isolate himself at 8 years old and occasionally lives in his own little world. I will care of a child who can not see. I will care for a child who does not hear. While I can can care for them and say they are not like me, I really see they are the same. They want to laugh and love and live. They are loved by a God who does not see their differences or defects, but see His children and knows the intimate moments of their hearts.

Just like He sees mine...

I went to bed last night, feeling not drained from a long day but knowing I was used by God. My hands were not my own, my heart was expanded beyond my abilites to love. I thank God for the oppurtunity to love. And thank God for knowing the intimate moments of my heart.

Savoring Twain

At Christmas time, I started reading Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. I read this many years ago but I was struck a couple months ago when I heard some stupid movie or TV characters describing their favorite scene from Huck Finn. I realised I couldn't even remember the scene they described, let alone pick out my favorite part.



I decided I would re-read the book. The only copy of the book I had was my mom's copy from her teenage years. It was the same copy of this classic that she read for the first time and it's the same book I read for the first time many years ago. It is beaten up, the pages stained yellow from age and the spine broken and flapping in the wind. I was terrified to turn the pages, thinking that with each page turned it would disintegrate in my hands. I began reading but my fears out weighed my desire to continue. I eventually got a new copy from B&N. My mom's copy rests at ease back in my book shelf. I know it's sentimental but I can't part with the copy that we both broke our teeth on Twain with.



Back to the reading and really the reason for this post...I wanted to rush through the book, like I do so many things in my life. But I realise the point of me reading Huck Finn again was to pick my favorite part, I couldn't do this if I was going to gobble it up as fast as possible and put the book back down again. So I started just reading 5-10 pages occasionally. I am slowly making it through what I believe to be Twain's master piece. (Yes even more so than Tom Sawyer) Occasionally, I will even read aloud in true oldtime southern accent. "Da widder wat gana 'end me up da ri'ter." I am loving savoring and contemplating on every moment, reading foot notes and antidotes on Twain's word choices, looking up history and cultural references.



I haven't picked my favorite moment but I have a couple that are standing out. I am charmed by Huck and even more so by Twain himself. It's gotten me thinking...What's your favorite book?

Misadventures from Camp Aimee

Oh my goodness. My house is quiet after a weekend of Camp Aimee.

My little buddy Dalton had come for visit and while I am enjoying the peace now, I am also still laughing at what he left behind.



First, Dalton had written me a letter on Friday to give me when I picked him up on Saturday. This letter contained our "Evil Plan" for the weekend. It looks like something out of Despicable Me (which is my new favorite movie-I have watched it 6 times-no kidding). This evil planned involved my new catch phrase- "You crack me up.", TNT (all evil plans involve TNT), farts, Jack the Dog and the FBI. Seriously, it was the perfect evil plan custom made for me and tickled me pink.



Second, I was putting up Dalton's spy kit and found his top secret notebook. On the back was a check list that went like this:

1. Capture Theif- check

2. Kill Enemys- check

3. Save the Crew- check

What a list! I love that all of the boxes had red little check marks because apparently we have accomplished everything on his list here at Camp Aimee.

Finally, I also found the remains from the sticker he picked out for me. He had picked out 3 stickers from the doctors office, 1 for himself, 1 for Isaac (his good friend) and 1 for me. He had picked out Darth Vader for himself, Lightening McQueen for Isaac and a baby monkey for me. Now, I would think this was very sweet except for the reason he chose the monkey for me...Monkey Toots!

Shaking my head now! It's a complement in his head! Cracks me up!