The birds have taken over the balcony.  Actually, they’ve taken over all summer, seed shells covering the floor, bird droppings on the railings, odd things growing in my plants from seeds being tossed out of the bird feeder.  The table and chairs have been out there all summer, but I have been content to sit inside and just watch.

I’ve never considered myself a bird watcher before, but they’re pretty amazing.  I have found myself slowing down to watch their behavior and notice their habits, to compare types of birds and the sounds they make.  From finches to doves to the occasional cardinal and blue jay, they have a little hierarchy all their own that is fascinating to watch and they have brought a smile to my face many times.  My husband is not crazy about the fact they’ve they have taken over, but I have caught him stopping to watch as well.  I know that they could survive just fine without me making sure they have seeds in their feeder every day, which then causes me to think of how they have no choice but to rely on their creator.  Something I should do more of.

This morning my thoughts are in a million different places.  I’m thinking of the fact that my husband and I are in our usual places this morning, me in my writing area and he in his, doing our own things, getting work done.  I marvel at how little we actually interact with each other these days and yet the time we do interact, we try to make it meaningful.  I’m very hyper aware of my friends and acquaintances who have either lost spouses recently or are struggling with health issues and other things, and thinking of each of those makes me very grateful for the quality time I have with him.  After all, what is the purpose of all this suffering if we don’t learn something from it?

All of those friends and acquaintances are on my mind as well.  While my life at this point, while not perfect, is pretty darn good, I read about and talk to my friends who are struggling with so many things, but mostly health issues.  While I do my best to pray for them as regularly as I can, yesterday I was overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of prayers needed and the seriousness of the issues to be prayed for.  I just stopped at one point and told God I didn’t know how to pray for them, that it was too much suffering to even contemplate.

I vacillate between “God is in control” to “how do I really know there’s a God?”  Sometimes my head questions the logic of it all and then my heart reminds me of all the times I have watched God work in my life and the lives of others and the certainty I knew during those times.  Yes, I do know God is in control, but if I am to be His hands and feet, what am I supposed to do for so many?  And WHY so many?  Is it just that time in my life, at my age that there seems to be so much more of this suffering and death?  Heavy thoughts for a Saturday morning.

On a completely different note, I woke from a nightmare this morning that may seem pretty comical.  It all had to do with having to set up a meeting, which was to be at a high school I had never been to and  that didn’t seem prepared to have us and I had forgotten to get the meal catered.  At the last possible minute, I’m frantically trying to find someone to bring in some food for everyone, to the point where I’m begging them to just bring in bags of salad and craisins for everyone to eat.  Perhaps I’m thinking too much of my upcoming North Central meeting in September?  Thank goodness someone much more capable than I has helped me set this thing up and there WILL be great food while we’re there!

Lastly, we picked up my son last night from the airport after a trip to Seattle to see a friend.  He was very anxious about flying and it almost caused him to cancel the trip.  I shared with him the story of my dad, when he was a bit older than I am now, telling me how he wished he had done more during his life.  He had all of these things that he wanted to do and now it was too late.  It has been those words that have pushed me past my comfort zone to experience new adventures because I don’t want to get to the end of my life “wishing I had…”   I told my son I didn’t want him to experience this same thing, wishing he had done more and so, he pushed past his fears and went.  As he talked to us non-stop for the hour trip back home from the airport, he shared all of his new experiences with people from all walks of life, food he had never tasted before, original art he had never seen in person.  He had to deal with unfamiliar locations and transportation by himself and did it.  The last thing he said to us before we went to bed was thank you to his dad for teaching him how to be the best version of what a man should be and me for challenging him to fight his fear so that he could experience life.  It’s all a parent could hope to hear.

Many things to ponder and now on to the exciting tasks of cleaning the place, doing laundry and working on NAfME stuff.  Life is what it is, and I’m grateful that my life is good.