Tag Archives: faith journey

Overcoming Overwhelm: Tackling Life’s Challenges One Detail at a Time (or How to Eat an Elephant)

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Oh friends! Have you heard the saying “It’s all in the details?” I’ve been feeling it this week. All the tiny things that have added up. Perhaps details are not the right thing to describe all those little nuggets of the day to day that need to be done but just eat up time. Mother’s day weekend has passed and we’ve all heard the stories of moms who need a break from all the things they do all day… and it’s true. My Pinterest board is loaded with things I’d love to try but never seem to get around to. There always seem to be dishes to do, or laundry, or a meeting, or a stupid walk for my mental health…

It’s not that I am bitter about it, it just seems to be fact that there is always some little thing. A form needs signing. A call needs to be made. A shelf fell down in our bathroom. It sat for days on the counter while I found proper hooks and measured and stuck it back up. It’s more than likely too high, but I am not fixing it again. Even tonight, a belt broke on our riding lawnmower, and the hubby had to hook it back up (with much fiddle-dee-dum frustration I may add to get it all aligned and working). It was a task that seemed to take way longer than it should. A hook. A lost button. And don’t forget to feed the dog. Empty the dishwasher. Is it me? Am I so disorganized I never seem to be up to date? Or is that just life?

Speaking of life… that comes in little things, too! If you have been following mittonmusings for any period of time, you know that one of the goals, one of the bucket list items, one of the long sought after tasks were chickens! WELL THEY ARE HERE!! Six beautiful little babies arrived on Thursday. Even then, there were tiny glitches. They were supposed to arrive on Tuesday, but the hatchery didn’t get orders and so we were postponed a few days. Don’t ask me what happened to the day old chicks that were born on Tuesday?! Maybe I don’t want to know. Anyway… teeny little peepers are now running around my living room (well not literally running around, but they are contained with lots of space in my living room). Again, they have been an example to me of tiny details making all the difference. They each have their own markings and personalities and have grown so fast in less than a week! Tiny wing and tail feathers are starting to show, and their legs and necks are stronger than the day I brought them home all snuggled together in a cardboard box. I am beside myself with joy. So is the dog. Beside himself that is, I dunno about the joy part.

Six baby Chicks have Arrived!

Even my momma robin nesting in the barn has chicks now! Tiny buds are sprouting in my flower bed. Thousands of tadpoles are lining the edges of our pond. The mosquitoes are returning, too. Billions of tiny things are springing right now! What are some of the small, seemingly insignificant things you have noticed in your world today? Have you taken the time to seek them out? Or are you feeling the crunch of all the details in a different way?

I suppose, therefore, it is ones perspective of the details, or “little things” that produce the outcome of our emotions behind the events. Do we struggle and feel overwhelmed that there are too many little things that need to get done? Or are we patient and take one thing at a time and enjoy it ? Savouring the details like fine wine. They say that the easiest way to eat a giant elephant is one bite at a time. And so it is.

As I ponder these things, I am reminded about the story of the mustard seed. Jesus explained that even if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can move mountains! I’ve been looking at our property … and we are learning there are a lot of details in maintaining such land… not to mention an old house and a bunch of creatures. I can easily get trapped in the frustration of pride, jealousy, anger etc. that the world view puts on home ownership. Keeping up with the Jones’? Ha! Let’s just focus on getting the grass cut. Of course, I want to have the beautiful gardens and whimsical bunny hotels and bird baths, but these things take work (and cash). Should I be so focused on the big picture? Or is God asking me to eat my elephant one bite at a time? Is it possible to have all I want in under a year of living here? My guess is that it’s not going to work out that way.

Let’s go back to that mustard seed. Perhaps my theology is all wrong in my comparison between faith and house chores. Maybe I shouldn’t compare earthly things to heavenly. Yet the tiny mustard seed… in fact all the seeds I have been looking at lately… are an example to me of how much potential are hidden in the small details. An acorn becomes a mighty oak. My little peeps will grow and produce eggs soon enough. The surrounding farmer fields will soon be higher than me. Things around here will get done, eventually. I have faith. I read somewhere that the meaning of the mustard seed is that our faith is only as strong as the One it’s placed in. And my faith is in a great big God who has blessed us with Itsnotta Farm. So many prayers of petition went in to moving here. Prayers for not only the physical, but that we would do God’s service here with this space and for this time in our lives. It’s an adventure I asked God for. Therefore, I am confident He will see us through it… and all the details that go along with being here.

I’m feeling like this post is a little convoluted. My A.I. assistant is going to tell me I’m not fluent and should “create headers to make my readers understand my message better”. Another detail to worry about. So, you’ll forgive me if I am just throwing you in my messy musings without clear and concise thoughts and conclusions. After all, I am trying to eat an elephant over here this week. Perhaps it will taste better with some mustard.

I Wanna Go Home

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“I wanna go home!” is usually shouted by a frustrated five year old who isn’t getting their own way at school, or the mall, or in the drive through. It’s usually accompanied by a stomp of the foot and hand clasped in tight little fists before angrily shoving them on teeny little hips. This phrase can also be heard in a quiet whisper to a extroverted husband by his very introverted wife at a social gathering where she knows very few people and is going on entirely too long. Or the awkward teenager who can not stand one more minute with nosy relatives on this family vacation reunion thing that they didn’t want to go to in the first place. Insert eye roll and retreat to the car for “quiet time” (i.e. texting random friend who wasn’t invited).

“I Wanna Go Home!”

Home. I’ve thought a lot about it over the last few years. We uprooted our children from their childhood home to move out here. The hubby has moved several times. What’s home for him? Is it “stuff”? Is it the people who live there? Is it your experiences in a place you are familiar with? You know the back roads and how to “get home” quickly when there’s traffic. You can wear whatever you want at home. You can dump all your stuff and kick off your shoes at home. What makes a house a home? How would you define it?

I moved my bunnies into their “new home” today. Baby chicks are coming soon and the bunnies needed to be out in the sunshine, on green grass after a long winter. So off to the bunny run they go. It was interesting to watch them sniff the familiar and “mark” it as their own with cheek rubs. I wonder how they will adapt to the unfamiliar? Will it make them nervous and stressed out, or will they be curious and embrace the change? Will all three get along now that they have bigger space? Time will tell.

Getting the New Bunny Home Ready

We’ve been at our house for almost a year now and some days it feels just like home. On other days I am overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. Does “creating a home” mean it’s decorated perfectly and all the paintings and pictures are up on the wall? Or does it simply mean having a comfy bed to crash in at night? Perhaps that’s different for different people. Many folks never sleep well when they are away. Still others can “flop” on anyone’s couch as they pass through. Maybe age has something to do with that, too.

Home. I’ve been sharing about my new robin momma on social media. She has built her nest in the corner of the barn. Most days she flies out and up to the nearest tree when we walk by. I don’t think she is quite confident in her new home not to retreat to safety when someone gets just a little too close. I don’t think there are any eggs yet, so she may be a bit more diligent in “staying home” when there are kids to take care of. I’m told birds build nests when conveniences are nearby… food, water, protection. Perhaps those are things we look for in what makes a house a home.

There’s a lot to muse about with regards to this idea of “home” and why we want to go there. Safety. Security. Familiarity. The people we care about are there. Treasured items are displayed there. There is comfort and peace among the things and the people you host when you are “home”. I recently read that your home is a reflection of who we are… and even who we want to become. It’s deeply personal. Which accounts for all the emotion behind “I want to go home” bottled up in that five year old’s display of assertion.

…Welcome Home…

These thoughts have come during an emotional week for me. My beloved and dearest aunt passed away, and we celebrated her 97 plus years of faithful servant hood to the Lord before laying her to rest on Saturday. She was surrounded by those she loved. She was witty and kind and sharp as a tack, but her body couldn’t keep up with her. In the end, it needed help from medical intervention, but her heart “longed to be home”. She hated that hospital bed. “I want to go home” she’d say with all the verve of a stubborn five year old. I know that this statement partially meant her physical home, with the familiar and safety of her things; but so much more it meant her “home” in Heaven where her heart was. Her life was a reflection of her “Heavenly Home”… where all her prayers would finally be answered, and true comfort and security was in the arms of her Saviour. We have the hope in knowing He met her at the door of her mansion, and with a smile on His face, said: “Welcome Home”.

Burdens and Birdhouses

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Welcome back. As I sit here, the wind is howling all around me, and our old house is creaking and complaining at the disturbance to its peaceful existence in the world. So many times I wonder why things have to change. I wonder why do we have to grow old, and why does the world not appreciate age for its wisdom and value it for its shear survival? I suppose change is good in some ways. Technology has moved us forward. We live longer. Without change there would be no seasons. No progression, I suppose. I muse, but I know better. We’ve been designed to have our moment, and then it’s over.

Many of you know I am a thrifter. I love a good second hand store. Partially, because of the simple fact I am “frugal” and refuse to pay retail. I suppose the environmental impact influences me as well. Recycle, reuse. Rednecks recycle because they’re cheap though! 🙂 I love a good find… especially if the store doesn’t know the item’s value and it’s reflected in the price tag. Other times I wonder where on earth the staff pulled their number from. I’ve yet to be a “professional” though. I wait for the day that I walk out with a piece that I can envision on one of those road side antique stores where diamond rings are encrusted into the back of some obscure framed piece of cats drinking tea. Turns out it was painted by some turn of the century artist who died tragically, mauled by his tea drinking cats, and his works are now worth millions. Never happens to me.

Nevertheless, sometimes a thing just strikes my fancy and I want it. The hubby often laughs, because occasionally I pick weird stuff. Old “junk” that I hope will be used and transformed into something beautiful. (Like an old century farmhouse in the middle of no where… just teasing!) This was the hope at a recent thrift visit. I found an old wooden bird house on the shelf. The wood was well weathered. The paint irrefutably peeling and well worn. It was five bucks. I hummed and hawed. I walked around the shelves some more. As I placed it on the check-out counter, I asked the cashier if she would consider a lower price. It was clearly some redneck farmer’s excuse for firewood. She could not negotiate, she says. Five bucks. It came home with me.

Was it worth the $5??

I can clean it up and fix it, right? Old farmhouse deserves a weathered old birdhouse, right? It was crusty — but the back was held on by a secret hatch — I pulled out all the remnants of a past inhabitant and scrubbed and sanded and dumped all the dirt and debris. My craft room lacks descent lighting, but after it was all dry I hiked upstairs to give it a fresh coat of paint. I wanted to keep it “rustic”, so it isn’t perfect. I thought I might add flowers or something to brighten it up, but old wooden snowflakes worked better… so it’s going to turn in to a winter ice palace for the birds!

I’m sorry to say the project isn’t completely finished yet, so I can’t show you a “before” and “after” only a “before” and “work in progress”. Perhaps it will draw you back to visit us again… I have several bird feeders and houses around the property. Some were here, some I brought with me, some we’ve purchased. Others we thrifted. I’m hoping all the birds will come to my yard. A pair of mourning doves have been hanging around. I haven’t seen them before, so I am thrilled. I hope spring brings some nests! And baby birds to share with you!

“Work in Progress”

Are you a bird watcher? I miss my big picture window of the old house. I still can see the birds and squirrels here, but I have to go from spot to spot to catch them all. Warmer days will find us on the front porch where we have a better view. Not that the birds need my help. I marvel time and time again how teeny tiny little fragile bodies survive our harsh Canadian winters. Bird bones are fragile. Bird bodies are full of air. You can literally crush them with your hand. And I worry about my bunnies under the heaters all winter.

Oh my beloveds, may these thoughts be encouragements to you this week. Things change. Things get old and are different, yet there is still value in the change. We must embrace it, encourage it, with a splash of new paint and wishes for more time to be used by God. Maybe things are not the same as they were, and we creak and moan with the annoying wind, but we stand firm. We are sheltered by His hands from the harsh realities of life. We appear fragile and worthless. Easily crushed. And yet all our needs seem somehow provided for.

Sometimes we get a little help from others. And that’s okay. We are a community and we must look out for one another. The wind is gonna be fierce some days. Perhaps you need to just hunker down for a bit and wait it out. Perhaps you need to seek shelter or be the one who creates it for someone else. I don’t know where you’re at today, but I’m thinking about you. May you sparkle like my new (old?) ice palace birdhouse!