for lack of...words...

I haven't been able to journal for almost two weeks. While not an uncommon occurrence, it is a frustrating one. Sometimes when life presses in a little heavy or things seem particularly confusing, I lose my words. For a "word person," this can be infuriating, uncomfortable, and even lonely. You see, writing is therapeutic. It's a release. If there aren't words and there is no flow, there's no release, just a lot of pent up thought, emotion, and musing(s). Sigh. Words always come. They'll come. But for now I've been finding the "release" (and so, a certain peace and comfort) in ice cream outings with the kiddos, afternoons spent in quiet folding of laundry or doing dishes, and simple games of "United States Bingo" with an almost six-year-old who always steels the Rocky Mountain States board before I can get to it. What can I say, I've instilled in him my love of mountains (and all things Colorado). And, apparently, "Wisconsin Milk and Cheese," because he remembered tonight that it was also a favorite of mine (or that I had made a "big deal" about it once. haha, that made me laugh) and sassed the tile around in my face as if he had really pulled one over on me. Are all almost six-year-old boys this competitive? :) I love it. I've been so blessed by these "friends in small places." They can encourage me without even knowing I need encouraging. Maybe it's a little bit of God's nearness, again. Gift--a reminder that relationship isn't a right, it's a privilege. It's something we ought to celebrate (value and cherish). It's how He made us to be--more fully ourselves when living healthily alongside others; giving, receiving, loving, embracing...

Anyhow, I'm tired. Not a sleepy tired just a worn-out tired. Dare I go to bed at 9:30? Have I told you about the animal that is trapped in our wall making a hell of a lot of noise at night (excuse my word choice if you must, but i'm getting awfully frustrated with the little sucker). It's been waking us up multiple times a night. I woke up from a "nightmare" the other night that involved a crazed squirrel that had finally dug it's way out of the wall and into our room, running around in a starved frenzy with wild eyes and barred teeth. Seriously. Please no. Hoping and praying that all it's scratching and digging will be for naught. The whole thing is equal amounts frustrating and humorous, I suppose. How did this animal get stuck in our wall and what on earth is it trying to do at all hours of the day (and night)?!! Give it a rest, our four-legged friend!