August 17, 2010

Daybook ~ August 17, 2010

For Today . . . August 17, 2010

Outside my window . . . there is a bit of rain and it is warm and muggy.

I am wearing . . . a sea foam green top and black pants.

I am hearing . . . a drawer opening and closing.

From the kitchen . . . garlic chicken and salad

I am creating . . . not enough

I am looking forward to . . . the ending of the pain from Thursday’s root canal.

I am thankful . . . warm salt water and Ibuprofen.

I am praying . . . for a willing spirit.

I am thinking . . . how great it is that God can use the simplest things to speak to me. Maybe he knows I won’t get it otherwise!

I am remembering . . . the days we used to spend at our cabin on the growing up, water skiing, swimming in the cove, cookouts, fireworks, and spending time with family. The boat is finally being sold and the cabin will someday soon. It’s been years since that place has been enjoyed by the family and it is hard to see how time has taken its toll.

I am noticing that . . . time is an agent that we can work with or work against, but we must work it. If not, it will completely roll over us leaving a wake of deterioration and unrealized dreams. Whatever we do with our time we must be intentional about it, not haphazard or passive. Will I hear the words, “Well done my good and faithful servant?”

I am pondering these words . . . “Day, n. A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent.” ~ Ambrose Bierce

A moment from my week . . . a visit to the Oklahoma City bombing memorial and lots of picture taking.

Something you may not know about me . . . I am 1/16th American Indian. You would never know by my fair complexion, but it’s true!

One of my favorite things . . . is being from Oklahoma. I think it’s a great place to live and be from. The people are wonderful!

For my picture journal . . . a picture taken at the Oklahoma City Memorial.


  1. I, also, am part Indian. I can't really calculate it but I found information on the web that my great, great, great grandmother was a niece of Sequoyah. And when I taught American history I taught about him and didn't even know that piece of info then. I also have other ancestors who were part Indian--I am blond and fair complexioned so yes, people would not guess that about me.

    And I the museum is something to see--really done first class--the memorial is incredible. Such peace and stillness there--a hush, a holy hush seems to be over the whole place.

    Loved your post! Lots to think about!

  2. I like the "I am thinking..." that reminds me of ME! I have never been to the Oklahoma City memorial, but I am sure it is as Dianne says...peace & stillness. That I what I found at the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor...a reverent quiet. Thanks for sharing. I will check out your pictures.

  3. Stephani, your post has many thought provoking statements. I admire your picture and your thoughtfulness.
    Hoping you feel better day by day.

    A tidbit: through my father, I have a fraction of Native American ancestry.

  4. Garlic chicken sounds so yummy!

    I'm thinking there must be a problem with your root canal. I've never had a root canal hurt cause me enough discomfort for any medication after they were done. I hope you have checked back in with the Dr. I am so sorry you are having so much discomfort with yours.

    Love your thoughts on time and agree, we must be intentional in how we spend it.

    Praying for you to have a "pain free" mouth. Hugs!

  5. It is God's time, after all, isn't it? Yes, sometimes my mind can follow bunny trails that my actions fall right in behind and I can look back on a perfectly wasted block of time in my day and mourn that I didn't use it properly, to His glory. Glad to be gently nudged again in pursuing excellence in how I use the time God has given me. Thank you for that!
    Blessings to you, friend!

  6. I have Cherokee in me. And I am the same way with the complexion. My Mom (who I got it from) gets SO dark in the summer and she has high cheekbones. Not me! Nope, not a chance, the only tan I get is more freckles.


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