Dear November,

Somehow you've gobbled up three weeks of my life.  And quite personally, I would like them back.  I clearly remember turning the calendar over from October, but these last several weeks, I just don't seem to recall.

In some ways this is nice since October was a painfully slow month with little on the schedule and loneliness in the heart.  But in other ways, I wonder if I should have tried harder to enjoy the lovely events of November before I reached this point, pondering exactly where they've went.

It all started with getting ready for company.  Sandy and Priscilla were headed our way from NY for a couple days of meetings.  We relished the fellowship and joy they provided in our home; the girls relished the attention.

The day they left, Jeff's parents came.  While they were off to a wedding on Saturday, our little family cheered the Blue Jackets on to a win over Carolina.

"Let's Go Jack-ets", she's chanting.

Elise had a great time too.

The biggest event of November, the largest memory-maker/time gobbler (time flies when you're having fun, ya know) began on Sunday, the 8th, when the girls and I rode back to VA with Gerald and Anita for the entire week.  My input was desired in areas of decorating and organizing the new home my in-laws recently moved to.  This sounded spectacular in my mind:  interior decorating would be one of those things I'd feel guilty doing as a profession b/c it's so downright fun!

Here's the "Heatwole Hotel" as it's being dubbed, where I lived and "worked" for a week.

Front

Back

Of course, Grandparents have a way of finding other things to do than just work when their grandkids are around.

Like playing memory

And helping make bread

And playing at the gym

It was so special to see the girls soaking up every minute with their cousins.  They don't get that privilege very often.

Jeff drove down on Friday after work.  It choked me up to see the girls run into his open arms.  How I missed that man and the life we have together!

Saturday evening we had a belated (by about three months) 30th birthday supper for Jeff.  He grilled shrimp and chicken.  Mmm.

It was a very worthwhile week- I found more of my place in the family; where I belong.  It's easy when you live seven hours away to interact only on the fringes.  To feel more like an accessory that comes along with their son, than as a genuine part of the family.  But there were new levels of understanding that developed between us all that week.  I grew to love each of them more.  And I cried when we left- for those memories we shared, and for the void of them while we're apart.

It was a very pitiful welcoming-home when Julia said in the middle of the night Sunday, "I'm throwing up".  And so was her state for these last 4 days.  The couch was her home; the bucket, her friend.  Poor thing.  Finally, 26 heaves later and four pounds lighter, she conquered it.

So, November, thanks for the opportunities.  The highlights and the low times combine to form a bit of blur, yes, but in the midst of you, I have changed.   I have memories.  I am blessed. 

And if you choose to keep gobbling up my weeks, that'll be fine.  With God's help I'll try to enjoy them, and learn from them as they go by.

I don't get it. This Halloween thing has me seriously perplexed. 

Oh, I understand dressing up like a cute, fuzzy animal or a favorite superhero.  Even I'd like to do that.  And I get the candy.  Who doesn't enjoy an excuse to eat candy? But what I can't grasp are the ghosts, witches, skeletons and all other grotseque-looking netherworldly creatures.  How is it those things are fun?  Why would you want to decorate your house with cobwebs, or make punch that looks like swamp slime or cookies that resemble eyeballs?

I cannot wrap my mind around such things.  And I would like to.  Let me clarify:  I would like to understand what drives a person to do those things.  Is it all in the name of "fun"?  What is it then, that makes the very same thing "fun" to some, and "un-fun" to another?  Is it just preference, personality, or spiritual position?  Where does good and evil play in here? 

And, no, I don't ask these questions with any pre-formulated responses in mind (like I usually do in asking questions!); I'm truly curious- what is it that makes Halloween a day worth celebrating?

I read a fascinating book to Julia recently (or at least as fascinating as children's books can be) called "The Honest To Goodness Truth".  The little girl's mother in this book warned her to never lie but always tell the truth.

True enough.

So, the main character strove to tell the whole truth- no matter how, no matter when.  This made obvious problems.  Like when she saw a hole in her friend's sock and blurted it out in front of everyone on the playground!  She quickly found herself friendless and frustrated at this truth telling business.

I relate, for I too have pondered exactly what it means to be honest.

Quite honestly, being honest is a complex thing.  For it is more than just relaying facts; there are emotions involved.

If a friend asks me for my impression of her new house and the honest truth is less than positive, what do I say?  I have enough wits about me to not spout out all the things I think are ridiculous with the place.  But, I wonder, if I find a genuinely positive aspect of her abode and use that as my reply, and no more, is that truly being honest?

I also know people for whom being honest means they feel it necessary to inform me of every detail on a given subject.  Whether asked about or not, they delve into a liturgy of their latest ailments, aches and pains; or the most recent findings on the life of their sister, friends, dog, or bedspread.  Does the truth require me to listen?  Even if I think they might be better served by the truth residing in my heart that for most circumstances, a summary is sufficient.

There's the adage that "sometimes the truth hurts".  We all know this to be a true, and yet necessary part of life.  So, how do you go about being the deliverer of such a truth, and yet "speak it in love"?

If we truly love someone, we won't allow fear to dictate how we communicate with them.  "Perfect love drives out fear."  And there's honestly an awful lot of truth-telling that's tinged with fear.  It seems Jesus had plenty of negative things to say.  Even to his disciples, He spoke more than just flowery words.

And yet I remain just a bit afraid.  Like the story's main character, I'm not a fan of friendlessness or frustration.  So still I ponder, what does telling the Honest To Goodness Truth, truly mean?