Hearing Heart Blog

On our last field trip to Salem I overheard a young “mother of many” sighing. With managing her tribe, homeschooling, housekeeping, afternoon sports and all, she lived in constant activity. Of course she wondered how life would be when the children were grown and she’d have hours of quiet to herself. You know, the kind of quiet where you aren’t concerned about what they’re up to since they’re so quiet! I just smiled. “It’s pretty nice.” I don’t hear my foster daughters’ giggles any more, but the memories are sweet. I don’t wonder if nail polish was just spilled on the carpet or if the youngest made it to the toilet in time (and remembered to close the door). The laundry gets all the way done, folded, and put away now. And meals are what Jerry and I like. I can call my mother and arrange to spend the afternoon shopping for my niece’s bridal shower gift with her – and spend as much time as we need. I can linger with my arms around my Dad and tell him how important he is to me. They get m

The junior high school librarian saw me steal quietly up to the counter gripping a large white book. She knew its name. She knew my name. This was the ninth week I had come in to have her stamp the check-out card “RENEWED.” Nervous and shaking like some sort of addict, I closed it quickly and covered its title with my jacket, hoping to draw no attention to it or to me. A New You. How I desperately wanted a new me! I devoured its advice, practiced its exercises, studied the hair-do and make-up techniques, even traced some of the drawings to file away in my notebook. But nothing really changed. The length of borrowed time on the book was renewed, but I wasn't! Week after week of studying A New You, I was still the old me. I began to worry that someone might find out that I wasn’t perfect by now, or at least a bit improved. What a hopeless race to nothing! I'M SO GLAD I'M NOT IN JUNIOR HIGH ANY MORE, but I still struggle with being content in my present state. I should know