Even though I am a day late, it is never too late to wish our mother Mary a happy Birthday. I know that she is guiding me as I settle into my new life in upstate New York. It's been a little over three weeks living up here and so far, I'm loving it. I'm still adjusting, especially dealing with allergies. Apparently Golden Rod spreads like wildfire up here. Since we're staying temporarily at his brother's house, I'm treating it like it's my own. In the mornings, I walk and sometimes jog out back where a path is mowed. It's my own little sanctuary and I find peace. Last week as I was strolling along and listening to my music, I knew in my heart this is where God wanted me to be. That very moment. The wild purple and yellow flowers I admire (favorite colors), the monarch butterflies that cross my path and the hawks. As long as I don't come across a coyote, I'm good. Despite the changes I am still adjusting to, I know I am meant to be here at this time.
I get along so well with Tyler's brother's girlfriend. She was hoping the same too before I moved up. Both of our prayers were answered. She took me hiking one day, while the guys were doing what they do best, fixing something. She saved me from boredom. While hiking, I saw Lake Ontario and touched the water. It was unusually warm. It was like gazing out at the ocean. On the way back, we talked about cemeteries and how she finds peace there. I agreed with her. We talked about haunted houses and how some ghosts continue to linger around. I told her I believe in ghosts and I have seen, but she's unaware that I have truly seen more. More than just an indecisive spirit. Even though I have spoken about my experiences publicly in my blog, I still keep it low-key to those I just meet. "Yeah, I've seen ghosts and angels and demons too...you know, the norm." Nope. This is why my circle is tight knit. However, if you ever feel inspired to show others my blog, please don't hesitate.
On another note, maybe I should start a cooking blog. Thoughts? Mind you, I was never a cook, but then again, I never truly practiced either. Now I have two hungry, hard working men to feed. I guess this is good practice if I ever have boys one day, especially when they become teens. I realize that when you're forced to do something, you're going to do it right the first time. The other night, I made some fajitas for the first time. Well, I had a fajita spice pack, but I still added a few extra herbs onto the bell peppers and venison. Yes, venison. Since they're hunters, the freezer is packed with venison. Last night, I made sloppy joes from scratch with venison of course. It was simple to make, but I was still proud of how delicious it turned out. Before I cook, I always say this prayer, "Lord, I don't know what the heck I'm doing, so I need you to help me." Or "I'm not sure what to make, so please inspire me."
So, I'm confident enough to say, the Lord is with me in the kitchen and I've actually found a therapeutic joy in it.
