Friday Ramblings

I am up and in the art room early today, fueled by the need to get ready for a three day art show that will be here if I am ready or not.

note to self: dylusion ink sprays do not wear off easily.

My thoughts turn to trust this morning. Trust that whatever I have ready will be enough.

Trust that my worth isn't based on what I have in my spot in the show. Trust that when I stay in the present moment and acknowledge God in each of those moments, it will be enough.

notepads that have free motion stitching on them. free motion rocks.

Then I left the house.

As I was driving Brenna to school, riffing along to Justin Beiber with her (and yes, I am getting pretty good at his songs by now), I noticed a man trying to cross a rather busy part of the road. It's a road that goes across a wash and on either side is the riverbed.

he was on the left side in this picture. yes. i do think of what to put in the blog all.the.time.

you are welcome for the visual.

The man is standing on the road, waiting to cross, which a little unusual in that it's not a good road to be crossing on foot. The image that is seared in my mind, however, is that he was only wearing capri-like pants. No shoes. No shirt. It's fairly early (7:30) and about 50 degrees. It's a gorgeous morning and the sun is highlighting him in the beautiful way it does on a fall morning.

 The funny part is that he is standing like I do on a beautiful morning-hands together at his chest, face raised up a little bit to soak up the sun. Only he doesn't have a cup of coffee like I usually do and I'm thinking his backyard is across and down the wash. (we have seen some tents off and on in this area)

It's at this point I stop singing to Justin and wonder:  Did he just wake up? Is he coming from a friend's tent where they just had coffee? Maybe is the left side of the road where he does his morning business and the right side is where he stays? What a life. There are so many paradoxes in our days. I come out of my art room, get into my car with my coffee cup and drive my child to school. He gets up out of a tent, and possibly pees in the wash and goes back to his tent to stay warm.

As I'm thinking these thoughts, it dawns on my that I will HAVE TO GET OUT OF MY CAR at my child's school. Not that this is problematic, and I am wearing much more than the man standing on the side of the road, but I HAVE TO GET OUT OF MY CAR and I was NOT planning on it. I bet Mr. Road Man wasn't planning on running into anyone this morning, either.

I finally realize it is going to be one of those days where I am humbled, thankful and work mightily on staying in the present moment.

It's bake sale day and Brenna has so much stuff to bring in, I get to help, which is why I have to get out of my car.

of course, now that I go back to pinterest to get you the recipe, I can't find it. But if you put in s'more brownies, you will find a million yummy recipes. This one was killer.

So, I swallow my pride, give thanks that I don't live in a tent in the wash and get out of my car and walk with Brenna to class. I am wearing my pajama top under my paint splattered sweat shirt, sweats, white socks and moccasins. Granted, it's a better look than the shirtless, shoeless man, but geez.

This is the point where I think all I have to do is run in, deposit all her goodies and I can jump back into my car and go see if Mr. Road Man needs an extra blanket.

Ha.

For some reason, the dean of students and one of the Bible teachers are standing at the main entrance, and greet us with a cheery, "Good morning!"  By now, I realize it's hopeless and smile back, wondering where the heck are my sunglasses, cause if I at least had those on, I could pretend like I was hiding.

And, because Brenna does not run in and out of buildings,nooooo. She goes at a stroll-and that's if there is a fire-

she pauses to tell them what we are bringing for the bake sale. I want to crawl into a hole.

mr. road man was gone when i went back home.

Lessons learned:

Trust comes in handy when I cannot rule my world.

Carry extra blankets from Goodwill in my car. 

If I'm in the present moment, I enjoy the silliness of the day and am grateful for so much more than when I am stressing over pajama tops and sweats.

No matter what, white socks and moccasins don't match. Some things I just can't change.