JABRUARY JABBERING

February 11, 2017

Here we are in the dead of winter, a period when I usually find myself with plenty of time and mental energy to write poetry and doodlishness. The hectic pace of the holidays is over, the Kuss birthday season is not yet in full swing, and I’m ready to sit down and do some creating. This year, however, without the usual snow and cold to inspire productive laziness, I find myself lacking in production, leaving me with pure laziness of mind and body. Winter, without the beauty of snow and the shivering that comes with gales of icy wind, doesn’t inspire much but snoring whenever I sit down. Gray skies and naked trees do not engender creativity for me. If I can flush some kind of depressing muck out of my head, maybe I’ll be able to push through to something worthwhile to write about here and in other spaces.

Graymuckygluckable gooblickity bleckishwastymess. . . Gurglebuglepiddlysquat. . .

Oh look! It worked! The slushy mush has sluiced itself momentarily out of the brain cells! Even in the boring, snowless winter season we’re enduring right now, I’ve found something brand spanking new and beautiful to talk about! Here he is–Milo James–the newest grandson, born on January 26, and the reason I didn’t write a Doodle last month. I was waiting and waiting and waiting, packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Oy, waiting for a grandchild to come forth from a daughter is somehow worse than waiting for my own babies to be born–mentally at least.
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Isn’t he a marvel? Such perfection! He and his two siblings, Charlie and Poppy, make up quite a joyously raucous crew when all is right with their worlds. When it’s not, well, they are still raucous. Hmmm. Grandparenthood definitely holds some unique blessings that are only fully appreciated after surviving decades of daily parenting. Here’s to joy in the surviving!

![](https://desperatelydoodlingdebbie.com/files/debbie/243E15C4-8AC6-4229-92D3-71A3B54270E8.jpeg)
But wait! There’s MORE! Much MORE! My word for the year is MORE! “More what?” you may be asking. Let me tell you. As I awaited Milo’s birth, I was also contemplating the approach of my 60th birthday at the end of January. The thought of “I want more” kept coming to me as I read and heard devotionals and songs with that theme popping up out of the blue. It’s time to start doing more of what brings me joy and contentment and less of what doesn’t. It’s time to dwell more on Jesus and less on myself. It’s time to be more of the person God created me to be, and less of the person others sometimes think I should be. It’s time for MORE, whatever God means for that to be. I chose four scriptures to go along with my one word for this year, all in the amplified translation, which means MORE to try to memorize, but Ephesians 3:20-21 is the passage that speaks to me the most right now: *Now to Him who is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly more than all that we dare ask or think [infinitely beyond our greatest prayers, hopes, or dreams], to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations forever and ever. Amen.*

And AMEN!