Lori Seaborg

A (Perfect) Blog Drought

I've been in a blog drought. (Obviously.) For a while there, I had so many posts going through my head that I couldn't get them all down. Sometimes I'd even post with a past date, just to sneak in a few extra thoughts without overwhelming you all in one day.

It's upsetting to me to be in a blog drought. I write to you in my head daily, but lately my head-writing has been in sentence fragments. I cannot post my fragment-thoughts. They are not fit for such a fine blog specimen as this.

Or are they?

One of my chief problems in life is Perfectionism. Maybe everyone has it, in some area of their life or another. Someone I know is getting "twins" in April, as she says, in search of the Perfect Breasts. FlyLady writes often, in her housecleaning emails, about getting away from the idea that you have to have the Perfectly Clean House. We all want our children to behave as Perfect Children would.

I struggle with many areas of Perfectionism, and one of them is Perfect Prose. I want to dazzle you, tickle your heart, itch your emotions. I think and think so hard that nothing comes out. If nothing comes out, what's the purpose of this blog?

I want the purpose of this blog to be that of helping other women feel inspired. That if UnPerfect Me can have this silly but happy life, then you can have a silly, happy life, too. I'd like you to leave here with knowing that God loves you a bundle, that I care about you and pray for you, and that slowing down for baking bread, hugging a child, and raising chickens is well worth the lack of pace.

You can definitely over-think. Even about a blog.

Tonight, I am letting you know that I'm back, and I am committed to posting regularly, but not always in Perfect Prose.

Instead, I will look to my Creator, the only truly Perfect one, who is able to take the Unperfect and make it Just Right.

(Originally published on my 2004-2006 Keeping the Home blog)

The Cow Ate My Homework

I take paper with me everywhere I go and if I don't have it I feel like some women feel without lipstick. Today, I decided to go on a walk as part of my New Year's Resolution of self-discipline. I folded an 8-1/2 x 11 piece of paper in fours, shoved it into my back pocket along with a sharp pencil, and headed up the hill. Somewhere along the way up I had an epiphany but didn't want to stop my "aerobic" exercise so I wrote while walking. It was a profound thing I had written on my piece of paper, worthy of putting in a bestselling book no doubt.

But I cannot remember what it was, and I will never be able to read it again.

I had walked over to the cows and actually spooked one...even made her do a second-glance-jump! I still giggle when I remember that cow's reaction to me. I talked to her, but she was apparently a little ticked at me coming up on her eating like that, so she walked away (MY! They have big bellies! Makes me think I'm doing just fine with mine). The male then came over at a bit of a rapid pace. He didn't have horns, so I decided not to be afraid of him...not too much. He acted like he had an itch on his head, between his big eyes. He kept scratching it against the vinyl fencing (Making the fence move! Vinyl does NOT seem sturdy enough for a big boy-cow). I tried scratching him where he itched, but he stuck out his loooong tounge at my arm and it was way too gross. I went back to admiring his big beauty of a self while fiddling with a bit of cotton that had blown off a farmer's field. Cow Boy went back to scratching between his eyeballs on the vinyl fence.

As I was admiring Sir Cow and he was scratching, I bent over to pick up my dropped cotton and a breeze blew. It blew the paper out of my pant's pocket and into the cow pen. There it was, my paper with my probably very wise wise words on it, and the big boy cow much too close for me to reach in and get my paper (do cows bite??).

But my fear of him is not the reason why I no longer have that piece of paper.

He ATE it!

(Originally published on my 2004-05 Keeping the Home blog)

2005 Resolutions

My resolution is simply to be more self-disciplined this year. I am such a relaxed person by nature, but only the self-disciplined person can accomplish all that God would have for her. Here are some new disciplines I want to adopt:

1. Walk daily.

If I walk for just 15 minutes, that is about 1 mile. While walking, I could do my prayer time.

2. Read books for self-improvement.

Finish at least one book a month on a topic such as devotionals and homemaking books. Use the list at Women at Home University (it's free!).

3. Read the Bible, pray, and generally visit with God daily.

Try praying while walking for exercise; read the Bible before reading anything else.

4. Write 1000 words per day, 5 days per week.

5. Drink 4 water bottles per day, to start (16 oz. size).

6. Go to bed by midnight; get up by 7am for quiet time with God.

By keeping my goals attainable, and by not making my list long, I hope to accomplish these things. I’d like so much more! I want to add resolutions such as finish the front flower beds and teach the children one old-fashioned hymn per month. But, large lists overwhelm me. I tend to quit mid-way (early-way, really) because I get discouraged by the futility of accomplishing all that is on my list.

If I am successful in keeping the resolution of self-discipline, I will find it easier to follow the path that God has selected for me. He will then be able to use me in more ways, such as in learning those hymns with the childrne.

How about you? I encourage you to start a list of New Year’s Resolutions this weekend. Or do as I did, and choose only one resolution based on a character trait that you would like to adopt, then place goals below that resolution. Keep your list simple. You can always add more to it later.

Happy New Year!

(Originally published on my 2004-05 Keeping the Home blog)

A Writing Space

It's difficult for me to write unless there is no clutter around me and no interruptions. That is an almost impossible wish in a family of six, especially with the children being so young!

So I whined about that today. Actually, I whined about it all week. 

My man finally pursed his lips at me, which he does when he gets annoyed at me, so it annoys me that he purses me. Then I'm annoyed at him being annoyed. Not good.

I decided to use my gift of ingenuity (once, when he wasn't pursing his lips at me, my man said he appreciated my ingenuity - it was when I was dressing the baby in odds and ends because it was the first cold snap of the year and we were caught without warm clothes. She looked cute - and warm - in her plaids and stripes!). Instead of whining about not having a writing space, I would do something about it!

After walking around the house and finding fault with nearly every space, I decided upon the desk in my bedroom. By clearing it and untangling the power cords, I was able to create a surprisingly large space for writing. To make the space more cozy, since coziness attracts better words, I found an old bookcase in the garage, dusted it off, and put it within arm's reach of my desk. On the bookcase I placed a basket for papers and a basket for electronic gadgets like the digital camera and cute little USB driver that I had to have last month. On the desk is a piece of pottery for pencils. Across from me, on the wall, is a bulletin board with letters and pictures from the children ("I love you, Mom, my speuale [special] grl!" says one from our 6 year old daughter). Above the bulletin board is a wire basket shelf to hold Pothos plants (those pretty green vines seen in doctor's offices).

My point? Whining is too slow! I didn't get my cozy writing space by whining.

Ingenuity, on the other hand, is effective and it is cheap. Without spending a penny I was able to make a space to write.

Tomorrow I will have to think of a new excuse not to write.

(Originally published on my 2004-05 Keeping the Home blog)

Lacking Self-Discipline

I think writers are considered right-brainers -- right? Which means we are a highly creative lot, which means we all struggle with self-discipline? I'm hoping for some company here, anyway. I've recognized recently that I lack discipline in a very BIG way.

Perhaps admitting my problem is the first step toward fixing it, like admitting one is an alcoholic is the first step to healing. If so, then I announce:

I LACK SELF-DISCIPLINE

Okay, that said, I am now resolving to do something about it. I really, really want to write and I feel like that is what God is UNquestionably asking me to do for Him. I procrastinate out of fear (oh, another admission! Is that step 2?).

A couple of days ago, I mentioned that I think I lack self-discipline to my dad (I know I do, but it sounds less harsh on myself to say, "I think"). He said, "You're going to have to get over that to be a writer." Then he went on to remind me of my brilliantly talented grandfather who journaled and wrote poetry, but never sat down and committed himself to sharing his writing talent with others.

I don't want to tell Jesus, "Oh, I wish I had written something for you, I know you wanted me to, but -you know - I was so busy."

I want to place a finished manuscript at His feet.

(Originally published on my 2004-05 Keeping the Home blog)

Clarity, from a Child's Viewpoint

Brenden , our nine-year-old, and I were at the table last night around 10pm. I was letting him stay up late for no reason other than that it is nice to spoil a child now and then. If I spoil all 4 at once, they seem to gang up on me and expect it more. If I spoil only one at a time, it is our secret, so nobody finds out about it. Spending time with them one-on-one is one of my favorite things to do, and yet I have to talk myself into noticing that I haven't done it in a while! Why is that??

Anyway, Brenden decided to make some hot chocolate. He was sitting at the table, noisily slurping it from a spoon. I was engrossed in a book but decided to put it down and join him. I wondered where our conversation would go, as it always leads to interesting places when he is my companion.

To start it out, I asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" The answer changes almost weekly. He said, in a too-mature voice, "Well, actchically (he says actually, his favorite word, wrong every time), I'm not sure. I might be an inventor, though."

I said, "Oh, my, you'd make a great inventor," as I do about all of his chosen occupations. We talked for a while about inventions and things to invent and inventors.

After a lull in our conversation, I heard myself say, "I want to be a writer."

 

Brenden, still lost in inventor-thoughts, absentmindedly murmured, "Oh, yes."

"Wait a minute!" He looked at me full in the face, alert. "You already are a writer!"

There is not a book with my name on it; there is not a magazine masthead with "Lori Seaborg" on it; there's not even yet an e-book with my name listed as the author...

 

But Brenden thinks I am a writer simply because he sees me write.

 

There is nothing like a child to see you for who you are or for who you have the potential to be.

 

by Lori Seaborg

Finding My Life Purpose in Mexico

My husband and I returned last evening from a week-long trip to
Mexico. We went to Puerto Vallarta, which is a touristy and
Americanized city, but we stayed in a hotel on the outskirts of
town, situated in an authentic Mexican village called Mismaloya.

We went as a couple to Mexico to attend Tim's brother's wedding
there, but I went as an individual to get some inspiration into what
God would have me do with my life. Do you find yourself asking God
that question over and over? I do.

Mismaloya is a village situated at the base of huge pointed
mountains with cobblestone streets and a gurgling river. Barefooted
children run across the river on a suspension bridge after school
each day at 1pm, then fill the village with their shouts and
laughter. The village people live in rough housing, made of wood or
sometimes concrete.

They do have power as the street is lit up at night and some
televisions can be heard but there is no air conditioning. The
women and children hang out on the sidewalks or in doorways, the
grandmothers embroidering on linens to sell to tourists for 150
pesos each. The mothers all seem to have a baby to carry while the
other children roam the main street or play soccer. Everyone looks
dusty due to the tourist buses that drive quickly through the
village on the way to waterfalls up the mountain. It is obvious
that money is not in abundance in the village of Mismaloya.
Everything is picturesque, but only because it looks so quaint to
our American eyes. To live there would give one a completely
different attitude toward it. I doubt it would be comfortable at
all!

I've always appreciated all that America has to offer its citizens
in the way of wealth and freedom. But this time, as we flew over
the Mexican-U.S. border, I could literally see the wealth from so
high up in the air. On the Mexico side, the land was mostly in its
natural state, but on the American side farms were in abundance,
along with factories and roads, trains, and stores.

What are we doing with this abundance? Are we using it to our
advantage or to the advantage of God? What would God have us do
with the "leg up" that we have been given over the rest of the
world?

I left Mismaloya with the knowledge that the search for my life's
purpose is not as hard as I make it out to be. God gave me -- and
you -- talents. Those talents and the desires that keep the talents
alive, are what we are to be doing with our lives. It is simple to
figure out your purpose in life. As I read recently, "What are you
doing when you shine? That is what you are to do with your life!"

I shine when I am absorbed in my role as a mother and a wife. I
also shine when I write. It is safe to say that my talent and my
desire - and my life's purpose, then - is to write, and to
particularly write about being a wife and a mother.

What are you doing when you shine?

Do you shine when you dance or teach or create? Do you shine when
you bake or when you build a website or when you write a check to a
missionary? God does not want us on Earth to be miserable, forcing
ourselves to be what He has not given us the desire to be. If He
gave you a talent and a desire, look at it closely and see if
perhaps He would have you use it for Him. If you do not feel you
have a talent for anything, then see if any of your desires would
possibly lead in the direction that God would have for your life.

Along with our desires and talents, God gave us America. With that
gift of citizenship is the freedom and the means to pursue our
dreams and our God-given talents. We have a duty to God to not take
this country's citizenship for granted. We do not have to live our
days with only the goal of existing, as many must in Mismaloya. We
have so much abundance - even the most poor of us - that we have no
excuse but to realize our life's purpose.


What are you doing when you shine? Pray and examine your heart. I
will be praying for you this week!

Lori Seaborg
back in Fairhope, Alabama

"I AM a Writer"

This village of Mismaloya (Mexico) is so inspiring to me. As I write this, I can hear a cock crowing (he never stops!) and the river flowing over the rocks. The Mexicans walk by occasionally on the cobblestone street in front of me, or on the cobblestone pathway upon which my bench sits. They are a friendly lot, saying, “Hola,” each time they pass. Smiles are on their faces every time.

When I pause for words, looking up from my typing, I see flowers in abundance. Bougainvilleas are enormous here, and full of blooms. Hibiscus are as tall as buildings filled with colorful flowers. The trees’ brances are unique to me. They go up, then crooked, then back down to almost touch the river. Sometimes fruit or nuts fall from the trees, nearly missing me. Overhead are birds, always present. Less than ½ mile away is the Pacific Ocean, so cold, with its pounding waves and blue and green and grey waters.

I want this time in Puerto Vallarta to make me become a writer – I say, I “wanted” it to do so, for tomorrow is our last day here. I guess a location, no matter how exotic cannot make a writer. It is clear that that can only be accomplished by just sitting one’s buns down in a chair and writing! Daily. Daily, daily.

I just spend so much time wondering what I’m supposed to write about. What am I so high and mighty knowledgeable about? I feel as though I am not an authority on any subject at all, especially, particularly motherhood, which is what I think God wants me to write about. If He wants me to write to mothers, and if my supportive husband believes that I can do it, then why not just take the plunge and do it? What could possibly go wrong? The type of “no” one gets in this publishing business is a written “no”. That is so much more easy to swallow than a face-to-face “no”, or a phone-call “no”. That is all I have to lose!

On the other hand, if I do not write, I will lose my man’s trust in my self-discipline, God’s calling, and I will lose much more personally.

In this setting, on a wooden carved bench with my feet on a cobblestone path in Mismaloya village, with the river gurgling behind me as it passes over stones, beside the monstrous iguanas hiding in the rocks on the river edge, with the bougainvillea blooming in front of me, separating me from the vehicles carrying tourists to the mountains ---- in this place, this idyllic place, I say out loud, “I am a writer.” From now on , “I AM A WRITER.”

I WILL write every day. NOTHING will get in my way. NO INTERRUPTION will be placed in importance above this calling. I can take my writing with me wherever I am needed, whether it is in a hospital room or on a playground. I will take it, I will use my time wisely, and I WILL be self-disciplined.

* I will stop reading about writing – I have learned enough to start.
* I will stop scheduling writing time – instead, I will just write.
* I will stop giving excuses to myself because I am a busy mother – God knows that, yet He called me to write anyway.
* I will stop wondering what to write – instead, I will sit down and write, even if in sentence fragments; even if I write only, “I don’t know what to write.”
* I will stop wondering why I am such an authority. I will instead agree with God that I should be writing and leave the expert editing to Him.

(Originally published on my 2004-05 Keeping the Home blog)