Introspective Insights

2011-10-17T23:01:00.000-04:00

Working It Out

Today was not a good day. The kids were tired, I was exhausted. There was whining and crying and irritation and yelling and patience was absence and good manners had fled. We were left with the worst versions of ourselves and it showed in all that we did.

It was the typical ups and downs any of us would have in a given day no matter what we do. But for me, it just felt weightier. This job I do, it isn’t for someone else to profit from of which I get a small cut, it is for me, for our family, for our future, but most of all for them – these wonderful little people. And at times, I just don’t take it as seriously as I should. I become cold and unloving. I don’t hug or pick them up or read to them like I should. I focus on the tasks too much and the mothering too little and movies play too long and I start to realize that we are living only a shell of the life we should be living. It is overwhelming to consider the impact of repeating this kind of a day over and over and over.

Thank God in his infinite wisdom that he gave us night to rest and a new day to start again. So I’m looking at tomorrow in anticipation. There are no places to go, no deadlines to meet, no strict expectations except a day to be home and interact and learn and love and hug and be the best versions of who we were meant to be. I’m hoping that I can learn tomorrow what I want to live out in the days to come. Days that are quiet and purposeful and more than I could ever expect them to be. I’m working it out and God convicts me, but He is also gracious.

But for now, I bid you good night.

2011-10-10T15:33:00.000-04:00

Not Home

This post is dedicated to my brother-in-law and his family. Your pain is unthinkable and I am praying for your comfort and peace.

Fall in Michigan is one of the most beautiful times of the year. The best way to see the fall colors to me is to take a drive. I had the opportunity to take a long drive a few days ago and the color and bright sunlight truly made everything I saw the picture of fall splendor. Reds, oranges, and yellows illuminated by the more than usual orangey / yellow sunlight – beautiful, bright colors everywhere I could see.

I couldn’t help but thinking on that drive that everything was right in the world and these beautiful colors and sunny day were a gift from God to me and everyone else. But I couldn’t fully enjoy it as I thought about close relatives and friends going through unthinkable tragedy and loss. To add to the discomfort I learned the next day about a young woman (21 years old) who works with orphans in Uganda who has personally adopted 13 girls. I think of friends and relatives and acquaintances who are dealing with the mental or physical disorders that plague their children and I am overcome with grief. I am reminded that this world with its glimpses of beauty all around is also home to pain, suffering, agony, and injustice and I can’t shake it off fully to enjoy what God made good in creation.

This is not our home. Yet, it is the only home we have ever known and we really think that we are comfortable here, until we are reminded of all that is not right. God whispering in our ears, showing us that we must love and help others, reminding us that even if it doesn’t make sense, that his plan is better than ours.

So, I’m thinking of those hurting today and wishing I could explain away the pain or offer words of comfort or say that somehow it will be OK, but the truth is, that some things won’t ever be OK. Our time here is so short and eternity is so long and if we don’t do whatever is insanely possible to bring everyone we can with us to the home they were meant to go to, then what are we doing that really counts?

I look at my life and how comfortable I am and yet I sense the discomfort creeping up around me. I don’t know how to be dangerous for God and maybe he isn’t asking for me to get on a plane and fly far away to make a difference, but I realize as each day passes, that I must find a way. I have to find a way.

Maybe I already make a difference, but I don’t see how and I just pray that God reveals to me that I can and do impact his kingdom, even from my little corner. And if I am not, please show me God how to reach out and do the work you have asked me to do. Because I am not home and as the days go by I realize that I need to learn more about my real home, about where I’m looking to go, because sometimes the pain here is too much to bear.

2011-10-04T12:34:00.005-04:00

Thoughtful Tuesday 10/4/11

Every Tuesday I try to put something out here to get us all thinking about different ways to approach this life. Let’s think countercultural, against the norm, “weird”, unpopular, but most of all thought provoking.

I’ve been very conscious about how it seems that my words don’t match my actions these days. I have the incredible gift of being home with my children every day. I tell them I love them, but it seems that my actions, at times, tell a different story. How do I get past this? What can I do to turn it all around?

How do you demonstrate that you love the people around you in everything that you do?

2011-09-30T14:09:00.000-04:00

90 Days

Like many of you, I’ve had my share of jobs in different industries, with different schedules, and with a myriad of different expectations placed on me. But one thing each job had in common was the infamous “90 day probationary period”. That critical time where the company is supposedly watching you to ensure that you are worth keeping for the long haul.

Here I am now at home; formulating my own job, schedule, rules, and expectations and that 90 days is looming on the horizon. I can’t help but asking myself, what have I learned during this time and am I doing this job well?

I have learned that:

A young toddler on the potty is not likely to stay on the potty, and neither is what comes out of the young toddler.
An older toddler that is potty training will repeatedly have accidents even when he is given the “rules” for what to do.
Toddlers who like to climb and open doors are likely to fall and/or escape.
The smiles and laughs of my children are the most beautiful sights and sounds I can and will experience in a day.
It’s the little moments of focused attention with each one of them that keeps them happy and content through the day.
Coffee with my kids is fun and insightful. (And don’t worry, not too caffeinated.)
If I demand respect in a loving way from my oldest, she gives it politely.
Trusting the kids to go outside on their own builds my trust in them and gives them independence they need to succeed in life.
Anything that can go wrong in the kitchen will. (But it has always been that way with me anyway.)
Dishes will always be dirty, laundry will always need to be folded, and there will always be crumbs and hair where there should not be. But I will not always have this moment to hug and kiss and dance with my babes.
Each day is a gift and no matter how simple must be treasured and purposeful.
I need to be thankful for each moment as they are slipping between my fingers like sand.

I’m not sure if I were to be rated by an outside, unbiased source if I would fare too well for this 90 day period – I yell too much and I get angry over silly things, but I always apologize and forgive and seek to be forgiven.

These 90 days have been a wonderful gift – something I will treasure in my heart in the days ahead as the seasons change and new adventures in mommyhood unfold.

2011-09-29T15:55:00.000-04:00

The Block

So you may have noticed that I haven’t been around for awhile. I wish I had a good reason to explain why, but I just don’t. I think that the best explanation has to be writer’s block…but more accurately - fear.

I’ve been avoiding my little corner of cyberspace using stale, old excuses: too tired, don’t know when to fit it in, don’t know what to say. But the truth of the matter is that I’m hiding behind this wall, feeling like I can’t reach back through it…doubting my ability to write anymore.

You see, leaving my job was a huge step for me and I truly believe the right thing to do. However, the circumstances that lead up to it still have me doubting myself in many areas and I just can’t quite shake it all. I’ve been praying and writing down ideas for what to say out here, but my doubts and insecurities keep trash talking to my I-just-went-through-a-major-life-change mind.

So maybe it was writer’s block, but maybe not; but the point I’m trying to make right here is that I have more to say and I’m figuring out how to say it all and I hope that you still want to read and I appreciate your grace and your patience. So, I’ll say this quietly, I’m baaaacckkkk.

2011-08-10T08:02:00.000-04:00

I’ve Been Waiting

This morning I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the sound of a sweet baby voice saying, “Mama, mama?” The air was just cool enough, the birds chattering and singing their morning songs. I’ve been waiting for a morning like this – waiting for one that reminds me of why I’m here, what is important. The weeks of living in the constant hum of the air conditioning – with its artificial air, chilling temps, and muffled barrier between me and the real world has taken its toll. (Don’t get me wrong, air conditioning is a wonderful gift that I’m very thankful for – it has just run too long.) It has gotten to the point that I’m looking forward to fall just so we can have the windows open.

There is something about hearing the night sounds – crickets and the scurry of bugs and little animals, seeing the moon shining into an open window, smelling night fall and then waking up to the earth starting over again, birds singing, the smell of the dew, the sun streaming through an open window – the cool air floating into the house. The smell of morning – distinct from its nightly counterpart.

Here is where I am at peace – here is where a new day with mercies new begins and don’t I need it – don’t we all? I’m grateful that God in his wisdom made night for us to sleep – because wouldn’t we be in a bigger mess if He had not?

So today I’m listening to the chirps and the morning dove “who’s” and letting the sun shine on my face and shivering a bit in the damp, morning air, listening to the gentle melodic sound of the wind chimes and taking it all in. Breathing new life and a fresh start. Won’t you join me outside this morning?

2011-07-31T00:12:00.000-04:00

100 Years

Today we celebrated our Great Aunt’s 100th birthday. I’ve never known or met anyone who is 100 years old. The party was very nice – a lunch where about 175 family members and friends gathered to eat lunch and celebrate this great lady’s life. Her daughter put together a book with her story including pictures, fun facts and great stories about the unique and wonderful person that she is. I read through the book – I’m a sucker for history – but even more – the personal history of a family member that I know mostly by reputation.

This wonderful woman graduated from high school at age 76 and went white water rafting in her 80’s. When her husband died 30 years ago, she bought a new lawn mower since she knew she would be keeping up the lawn going forward. She loves parties and traveling. How great is that?

Reading through this book and looking at all the pictures and just being there – seeing all of the smiling faces celebrating her life – it got me thinking – what is the story of my life? What will people write about me when I am advanced in years? What will be the unique things about me – my impression, the person I am, the thing that makes my reputation precede me?

So much has changed for me in the last month and I finally feel like what I’m doing everyday has eternal significance – I’m taking care of my children and our household – concentrating on being there – my whole person – in this place at this time. I’ve never been interested in what was culturally popular or interesting or notable and being in this position runs counter to what the world says is interesting. So the big question is, what will my children write as the story of my life? What will stand out to them?

I hope that they write about how much I love them about how I could be wacky and fun sometimes, how I would do anything for them, how I broke the rules sometime just to mix it up a bit. I hope most of all that they see Jesus through me. I will never be perfect, but I hope they feel God’s love through me and find a way to carry that with them through their days.

The book of your days – it is being written right now – what do you want to say?

2011-07-26T13:29:00.002-04:00

Thoughtful Tuesday 7/26/11 Every Tuesday I try to put something out here to get us all thinking about different ways to approach this life. Let’s think countercultural, against the norm, “weird”, unpopular, but most of all thought provoking. I do my best thinking in the car – even short trips with the sound of children playing and yelling in the background. Today I thought about change – how we know it’s coming and even though we know, we are never adequately prepared. Change rarely just affects us, but everyone around us and what can we possibly do to prepare ourselves for the reactions we get from other people? Is it even possible? Me staying at home has changed many people and my relationship with all of them is changing. I’m notoriously terrible with keeping in touch with people even when I think of them often. How do I keep up with these changes and keep in touch? Is it possible that the evolution that is occurring could bend or break those relationships? How do I know when to keep going on or let go? Maybe some of the answers to these questions are simple or just take time to figure out, but please share your thoughts here. I know that many of you have insight that I need. Thanks.

2011-07-24T22:43:00.003-04:00

The First Week Thanks everyone for being patient with me while I was quiet this past week. You see, this past week was the first week I was home with all three of my kids in this new stay at home mom role. And what a week it was! Now, you are probably thinking I’m going to tell you about the highs and lows of last week – well, sure – that is sort of the point, but the first thing you need to know is how peaceful and quiet it was. I’ve been home with the kids off and on for many reasons over time – vacations, daycare shutdowns and illnesses, but there was something very different about this time – this week. I shutdown Facebook, kept email quiet, and tried to keep my normal distractions to the bare minimum and I concentrated on just enjoying them. Focused on taking these little people in my life as they are in each moment. When my sister Kim first came home to her kids about a year ago, she told me, “You know how people say that there is so much you miss when you are not home? Well, there is SO.MUCH.THAT.YOU.MISS.” Her words cut me to the core and I couldn’t get them off my mind for weeks. Here is what I missed: Big girl Kayla telling me I’m the best mom in the world along with “nothing was fun today” nearly every day last week. This girl dreams big and wants that “super fun thing” to do every day. She is so much like me, I can barely stand it. I can’t help but love her. Three year old Zach’s little arms around me saying “I love you mommy” along with “I want daddy! When is daddy going to be home – I don’t want you!” He’s definitely daddy’s boy, but I won’t let him get away with it – he’ll always be my wonderful boy. Sweet Abby’s head snuggling into my chest before naptime along with the screams of pain from falling hard into the ottoman. I’ve never seen a cut and bump so large on such a little chin. But this is Abby in all her glory – all girl, all wiggly toddler, all fun, no fear. The endless diapers – diaper ping pong between Zach and Abby – I’m telling you – it’s a conspiracy! Explosive diarrhea – somebody had to have it, right? Daily dishes. Mountains of laundry. Coupons to be cut. Littles to love and kiss and hug and comfort and read to and snuggle and just cherish – no matter what, just to love in each moment. I missed all those things. While I know none of it is glamorous – it doesn’t matter. It all means something – it is all significant, it is all eternal. This week is the beginning of our new life and I’m ready and willing and able and most of all HERE, fully. No distractions, no other priorities – just HERE. Quiet, listening, peaceful, thankful for this wonderful gift. On to week two!

2011-07-14T21:58:00.002-04:00

The Swing Kayla and I went to the park in the woods today. She played on the playscape a bit and then we both decided to swing on the old, sturdy, metal swing set – the kind they had when I was a kid. As I climbed higher and higher I was surprised at how airborne I was and how every time I swung up how I hit that brief “sweet spot” where for a moment I was free falling. It was breathtaking and terrifying all at the same time. I kept up the pace for awhile amazed at how frightened I was. As we walked back home, I realized that right now, I’m in the “sweet spot” of life. I’ve risen up pretty high up until this point and now I’m not quite falling and I’m not headed back down. I’m floating in space and completely out of control. My whole life is in limbo – everything I’ve known in my professional life is different – I’m no longer working. I’ve wanted to be home with the kids for some time, but we were not ready for that financial change. Through a series of unforeseen events, I’m no longer working and happy, thrilled, terrified, and hopeful all at the same time – I’m floating and looking around at the top of the trees in wonder of what can be. When I got off that swing, I was surprised that my head hurt, but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. When God allows changes to shift your whole mindset, it definitely hurts a bit, but the end result is always worth it. So, I’m giving up on controlling it all, because I have to. Instead, I’m looking forward to each new day as a way to see and view this world as He has called me to see it.

2011-07-12T23:10:00.004-04:00

Thoughtful Tuesday 7/12/11 It seems time to start a regular series out here, so I’ve decided to start Thoughtful Tuesday. I’ll try to put something out here to get us all thinking about different ways to approach this life. Let’s think countercultural, against the norm, “weird”, unpopular, but most of all thought provoking. Why do we decide to store up money in terms of savings, financial investments, retirement funds, etc. when we don’t really know how long our life will last? I’m not advocating irresponsibility, here, just trying to get a handle on why cultural norms tell us to do this. What happened to relying on God? What happened to relying on others to give to us as we have been called to give and support them? When did we as a society become so segmented and “self reliant”? Looking forward to the discussion.

2011-07-08T23:03:00.006-04:00

Windfall Windfall – when we see that word, we think of money – an unexpected availability of money. While windfalls like that are nice, they are typically short lived and we usually don’t remember where the money went. I’ve found myself in an unusual type of windfall these days – a windfall of time – time with family, friends, and my kids. This type of windfall has never really happened to me and quite frankly, I don’t quite know what to do about it. My initial thoughts are to take each day at a time, savor it, be thankful and intentional in all that I do and it’s got me thinking – why don’t I always do that? Why don’t I take this gift of time and spend it with others – really being there and engaging myself with them? Time spent like this tends to be a strange mixture of joy, pain, chaos, and an overarching amount of intensity. I welcome it, yet fear the emotional toll it will put on me. But I’m here - standing on the precipice of it and praying that I spend this time wisely because like everything, we never really know how long it will last. So, I ask that you pray for me as I am in this windfall of time. I’m very thankful for it and want it to be permanent, but don’t currently understand how it can last. Thank you.

2011-06-28T22:45:00.007-04:00

Thoughtful Tuesday It seems time to start a regular series out here, so I’ve decided to start Thoughtful Tuesday. I’ll try to put something out here to get us all thinking about different ways to approach this life. Let’s think countercultural, against the norm, “weird”, unpopular, but most of all thought provoking. I’ve written here previously about living in the shelter of others. This means under the protection, watchful eye, and in the community of others. How can we truly live in this shelter when we insist on being so willfully self reliant, distant, and non-communicative? Why don’t we allow ourselves to be close to each other, in each other’s business (in a good way), intimate, knowing of each other? Isn’t that really the only way to live truly in the shelter? Why don’t we do it and how can we start?

2011-06-13T23:35:00.018-04:00

The Lilies I’ve always enjoyed wandering in the yard of my childhood home discovering new things. I’ll never forget those first couple of years living in our current home and learning about the plants in our yard. I was excited to find one tiny lily of the valley plant that second summer. Such a beautiful little plant with tiny bell shaped flowers. Each year after those first couple I’ve looked for them, but for some reason missed the flowers. Imagine my surprise this summer when I walked out and found at least 12 plants all in bloom. Breathtaking! Kayla insisted on picking some and I put them in a little vase. I could not help but study them marveling in their micro perfection. My life is in chaos right now – both personally, professionally, and in many ways spiritually. Changes have finally come for me at work and I’m very thankful for the change, but even change anticipated and embraced is still hard for me. I tend to follow rules and get stuck in my ways because I’m afraid to do something new. Tomorrow represents that something new and even though this is what I have wanted for so long, I am still afraid; I’m worrying about tomorrow. And then I look at these lilies and think – were these the ones that Jesus talked about in Luke 12:27 when he said 27 “Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.” In that chapter Jesus talks about how we worry about what we are going to wear and eat and God knows that we need these things. So if we know that God will provide us with these basics, why should we worry about anything else? Yet, I worry…anxiety my biggest weakness in this life. So I take this weakness and I try to break out of this valley of anxiety and what I’ve found is that through all of these changes, overall I have been at peace. So maybe I’m learning, but I don’t fully get it right and I’m grateful for God’s mercies new every morning. Enjoy these lilies as I have and remember the promise they bring that God is there and knows what we need.

2011-06-08T23:16:00.006-04:00

Growing Old To Jerry - on the occasion of our 14th wedding anniversary - 6/7/11. We’ve been together a long time he and I. We started this journey talking about such serious things…too serious for two 19 year olds. Talk of serious commitment – “No returns” I said. “No exchanges” he said. Somehow we both knew early on that this was for real. We talked on the phone for hours; jewelry was given in the early weeks, there were lots of road trips to see each other if only for a day. When he proposed he said he wanted to grow old with me. It sounds cliché, but I knew that was what I wanted from that very moment. We both had no idea what that meant… I started my first and second and third jobs. He finished school and worked full time. We bought a house. We went on vacations. But one day we realized something was missing – Kayla Joy, Zachary John, and Abigail Anne. We are now in the middle of parenthood and the time is flying by. Sometimes we marvel at where we have been and wondered how we thought our lives were complete without these little people in our lives. Life is not always easy, but our commitment to each other has never changed – “No refunds, no exchanges.” There are little things that begin to explain this mystery between us – the miracle of this bond. Reminders along the way are ever there like these lyrics from one of my favorite artists Sara Groves – Twice as Good. (http://www.saragroves.com/lyrics/firefliesandsongs/twice-as-good/) I know we're growing older can you imagine what that will bring it's all a mystery to me now but this one thing will be half as hard, and twice as good I can’t imagine what this growing older will be. I’m content to be in this moment – his hand holding mine. This life we’ve built together is the life I’ve always wanted – he – the perfect man for me. I love you, Jerry.

2011-05-09T23:24:00.017-04:00

He Still Speaks Words of Love My relationship with God has grown over time as have many of my relationships. My relationship with Jerry grows daily – as long as he and I both put time and effort into it. With each day that goes by we seek to know each other better by listening and coming together. But sometimes it is easy to have doubts about the people in our lives – including God. I think that doubt can be a useful tool in your relationship with God if used properly. What I mean is this – doubt should be used as a type of questioning tool – a way to converse with God when He seems quiet or distant and when you don’t know where you stand. The proper way to use doubt is to first never compromise God’s faithfulness and the true essence of who He is. That requires that you know who He is first. (That is another post for another day.) Just over a year ago, driving home from church, Jerry and I had the same song in our heads. (We have never had the same word or message from God before.) The song was “When I Think of You” by Michael W. Smith. We thought it was strange that we both had that song in our heads and yet we had not heard it in awhile and it was not played at church. I felt like we needed to know more about this, so I pulled out the CD to see if there was something in the CD jacket that we needed to know. I found the reference to Zephaniah 3:17: "The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty enough to save you. He will take great delight in you. The quietness of his love will calm you down. He will sing with joy because of you." (New International Readers version - Copyright © 1996, 1998 by Biblica) At the time, I was struggling with the back to work blues. The next day I was scheduled to go back to work for the first time since Abby was born. This verse gave me great comfort. I felt like God was saying he was delighted with Jerry and me. It brought tears to my eyes! Who were we that God would speak to us in this way? What a wonderful gift! Fast forward to now. I’m finishing up One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I’m also reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I’m at this stage in my relationship with God where I’m asking myself, what does it mean to really love God? Intellectually I love him, but I don’t think it has broken into the core of my being. I’m one of those people who need to “get it” intellectually before I get it at a deeper level. Crazy Love is challenging me to not be a lukewarm Christian. The book says that to be a Christian is at its very nature loving God as much as I love myself – relentlessly. I’m so.not.there. As I’m reading One Thousand Gifts, I’m pondering how after all this time how I just don’t get it. Ann is telling the reader how she went to Paris to learn how to “make love to God.” Makes ya blush a bit, right? Me too, because I don’t really get that. Yet everywhere in the Bible it says that we are the bride of Christ. Well, to be a bride, you have to be more than friends, right? There has to be a greater level of intimacy. So as she is retelling her journey – she watches the sun rise from the airplane and she realizes that God is singing His love song to her from Zephaniah 3:17. The same Zephaniah 3:17 where he spoke to Jerry and me a year ago. I put down the book and I sob. He won’t ever stop reminding me – this flawed, speck of dust in the cosmos – that he loves me. I can’t help but ask over and over, why? I will never understand. But the bottom line is this – He loves me, He delights in me. While I don’t yet understand the level of intimacy He is inviting me into, I still go forward seeking to know more.

2011-05-04T22:29:00.010-04:00

Leftovers

I’m not a big leftover fan. There’s something about food past its prime, slowly rotting in small plastic containers that just doesn’t work for me. Oh, I try. Some leftovers work out just fine. Unfortunately, most leftovers don’t make it past the 4-day-in-the-fridge rule in our house.

Yesterday was a low point for me. I picked up Kayla from school and we went home as usual and I continued working – just like any day. Something went wrong with the items I was working on and I had to shut down interacting with her for a few minutes to “put out the fire”. Once we resumed working on her homework, my stress was at an all time high.

We went to pick up Zach and Abby from daycare. Things got worse from there – Zach could not stop misbehaving, Abby kept screeching and crying and doing stiff board tantrums. My fatigue got the best of me and I went into survival mode. We ate cereal for dinner (pop tarts for dessert!). I put on a movie for the kids after dinner and I sat with them and watched it. At that moment, I realized that what my kids get on most days is “leftover mommy”. Leftover mommy has already given her best for the day.

I put it in high gear to get out the door in the morning to get Kayla to school on time and me to work. I powered through the series of meetings, interactions, conflicts, and projects that consist of a typical day at the office. I rushed to get Kayla from school and then simultaneously did one home related project (a personal goal for each day) and continued working while helping Kayla with her homework. By the time I picked up Zach and Abby – the fresh, tasty, healthy, gourmet mommy was gone. Leftover mommy was there.

Leftover mommy shows up too often in our house – even with my best efforts to keep her away. Sometimes caffeine helps, but that likely causes “high-strung yelling mommy” to come out and she is much worse.

Even though I’m not always the mom I want to be, I pray that my kids see “real mommy” most of the time. Real mommy apologizes when she yells too much, kisses hurts away, hugs and loves even when kids are mad or sad, and does her best to care for their needs and let them know how much she loves them. Real mommy tries not to let the other mommies visit too much, but the truth is, sometimes they are there.

One thing I know for sure is that “perfect mommy” is never here. But I’ve decided I don’t like her very much. She is much too obsessive and critical to live with. It’s best that she not have the key to this house.

I know I don’t always have it together, but I’m thankful that the unconditional love shared between my children and I is strong enough to weather these different mommies. God’s mercies are new every morning.

What mommy (or daddy) are you today?

2011-05-02T22:56:00.026-04:00

Relentless Love I’m very excited to present my first guest blogger my sister, Rachel Miller. In light of recent world events, her post cut me to the core today. I wish I could take full credit for this, but it comes from a Bible study that a coworker graciously forwards to me each morning. I can’t tell you how many times this study has spoken directly to my heart on a given day, but today it was exceptionally striking given the fresh memory of Easter and the demise of Osama bin Laden. Two Rules to Live By (taken from Our Daily Bread – click here for full post. Read: Matthew 22:34-40) Have you ever felt overwhelmed by rules and expectations? Think of how the Jewish people must have felt as they tried to keep up with more than 600 rules from the Old Testament and many more that had been imposed on them by the religious leaders of their day. And imagine their surprise when Jesus simplified the pursuit of righteousness by narrowing the list down to just two-"love the Lord your God" (Matt. 22:37) and "love your neighbor as yourself" (v.39). In essence, Jesus is telling us that the way God knows we love Him is by how we treat people. All of them. Let's face it-loving our neighbor can be a challenge. But when we do it to express our love to God, we unleash a powerful motivation that loves whether the person deserves it or not. And as we love God and our neighbor, everything else falls into place. If I love my neighbor, I won't bear false witness against him, covet his wealth or his wife, or steal from him. Loving others for God's sake even provides the grace and strength to forgive those who have heaped injustices upon us.” [emphasis added] Wow. Timely, eh? It reminds me of a similar incident in America’s history not so long ago. December 13, 2003: Operation Red Dawn resulted in the capture of deposed Iraqi President Saddam Hussein. I was in college, doing whatever it is college kids do, and I remember hearing the news of the capture on the radio. Up until this point I had not given much thought to Saddam Hussein’s salvation. If anything, I assumed he was too far gone and destined for hell. But something powerful stirred within me the moment I heard he had been captured and taken into American custody. I immediately fell to my knees and prayed for Saddam Hussein’s soul. I BEGGED God to move someone close to him to share the good news of Jesus Christ as his Savior with him. I wept as I prayed that the Holy Spirit would enter his heart, and that he would accept eternal salvation in heaven with the Father. Yes, I am telling you that I prayed that Saddam Hussein would go to heaven. I prayed harder than I had ever prayed for anything in my life up until that point. On my knees. Face to the ground. Tears falling. In a word, it was weird. In a few words, it was bizzare but strangely right. After it was over I felt light as a feather, like a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I filed the experience away in the “someday it will be the right time to talk about this, but not today” file and went about my business. I wept again on December 30, 2006, when I learned that Saddam Hussein had been executed following his war crimes conviction. I cried because I didn’t know if my prayer was enough. There was certainly no evidence of reform during the circus that was his war crimes trial. What was the point of that prayer? Why did I feel so strongly compelled at the time to do such a seemingly useless act? Fast forward to today, May 2, 2011. After hearing about the death of Osama bin Laden and doing some research in the Bible to sort of piece together how I felt about it, the answer was revealed to me in the story of Jesus healing a demon-possessed boy in Matthew 17:14-20. After Jesus rebuked the demon, his disciples asked him why they were not able to drive the demon out of the boy. Jesus replied in verse 20, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” Some manuscripts of Matthew’s account include words similar to the end of the apostle Mark’s version of the same story (29:9): “This kind can come out only by prayer.” Call me crazy if you like, but I honestly believe that my tiny, mustard seed-sized prayer made a difference in Saddam Hussein’s eternal outcome through the grace of God. Ok, so now what? Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden are dead, but as an American and a Christian I still have so many enemies in the world. How am I supposed to deal with that? Jesus gives the answer in His Sermon on the Mount: “I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44). Er, right. Did I mention that these people HATE ME!? As in HATE! As in abhor, detest, loathe, can’t stand, find insufferable, can’t bear, are repulsed by, and just plain dislike me! Why should I show them love and pray for them? Where is all that good “eye for an eye” stuff when you really need it!? The answer to the second question is simple: the “eye for an eye” way of thinking is one of the 600+ rules from the Old Testament and was rendered obsolete on the cross. Leave it there. The answer to the first question is in the closing verses of Matthew 5: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:43-48). Plain English: If you love only the lovable and hate your enemies, you are no better than they are. Yeah, I know you didn’t fly airplanes into buildings and kill thousands of innocent people a decade ago. But God called us to be perfect like Him. This means loving the unlovable, and praying for their salvation. After all, isn’t that what Jesus did for us? The bible study from this morning closes with this: “Who needs to see God's love today through you? The more unlovable the person, the greater the statement about how much you love God! Loving God is the key to loving others.” Couldn’t have said it better myself. When Rachel is not working her day job wielding her red tape machete or pushing beer-leavened baked goods on the side, she is home with her two boys ages 3 and 5 months eating homemade pizza and ice cream made by her culinary gifted husband, Kal. Rachel blogs with Kal over at Special Group Alpha (http://alpha.kmiller.us/).

2011-04-28T23:39:00.006-04:00

In the Shelter Community is on my mind again and I’m fighting this inertia that has come over me. I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that I am the queen of good intentions that I so rarely act on. It is a character flaw that I’ve had since I can remember. I often think of good ideas and thoughtful ways to either help people or show that I appreciate them but I only act on these things a small percentage of the time. Yet the time I’ve spent thinking about the good deed, small act of appreciation is significant. If you know me, you know that I rarely send birthday cards (or any other correspondence at all) and yet please believe me when I say that I have reminders for your birthdays and I think about you. Thank goodness for Facebook – I now have a chance to actually wish you a happy birthday in a timely fashion (and even then I may still be late). I have a million pieces of stationary and yet they go unused. I think of someone just about every other day that I should thank and yet I don’t follow through. This lack of action seems to characterize my moves in the different relationships I am in. And here I am again – looking outside my front window at the quiet houses on our street…wondering if things will change. There will be more activity – more people out – people reaching out as the days get warmer and longer. But I’m sitting here realizing that I need to be out there to participate. I keep thinking of the Jars of Clay song – Shelter. These words keep sticking with me: God has given us each other And we will never walk alone In the shelter of each other We will live We will live (We will never walk alone) In the shelter of each other We will live We will live (In the shelter) I can’t get this idea of living in the shelter of each other out of my head and yet I don’t really know how to DO it. I keep looking out my window…wondering how to create this community – not just here, but wherever I go. I am frozen in my tracks…my intentions good but not really knowing what to do. I keep praying for inspiration, but maybe I’m making it too hard. Maybe just being that smiling face – the neighbor that always waves, the one who makes it a point to learn more – who loves and accepts at first glance no matter what – maybe that is enough. Maybe that is everything. Yet I’m still inside this house – shaking a bit – with my elaborate ideas, good intentions…wondering when the opportunity will arise. I want to hear my doorbell ringing…I want to chat for the purpose of chatting, I don’t want to have boundaries, I don’t want walls, I don’t want rules. I don’t want to walk alone either.

2011-04-16T21:50:00.006-04:00

The Complexities of This Moment

There is always the list – the to do list, the grocery list, the menu planning list, the critical list for today, the list of who to call and those lists - they never really get completed. Then there is the dream list, the reading list, the crafting project list, the spiritual development list and those ones are the ones that really are neglected. It seems the lists in my midst get lost in the complexities of this moment.

Waking up late, rushing out the door, making it through the day, picking up kids, making dinner, long bedtimes, exhaustion on the couch for a few minutes and then bed. The complexities of caring for these little people and working full time keep me from the lists. The trivial lists and the eternal lists.

But is this just “how it is” or is there a flaw in my thinking?

The daily operational lists often are the ones I focus on and then get highly frustrated when I ultimately fail at them. The fun lists are the ones that I make and don’t focus on as much and then get infinitely more frustrated when I can’t get to them. In the case of the dream list – it often gets lost permanently. The spiritual development list – I dabble in, but never really commit long term – more just a flitting about here and there.

But I believe that I’ve missed something somewhere – maybe because putting it down on paper seems nearly impossible. Or the reality is, maybe I have never tried.

I’m missing an important list – the eternal treasures list. As I’m rushing through the day focusing on the tasks, am I really investing in the people close to me? Am I really pausing to focus on them, on relationships? I’ve heard it said that life happens on the journey and yet I still think I need to get to some destination – to check off the item on the list.

Today I’m trying to make the list – maybe not on paper, but in my heart:

Abby’s dimpled smile when I hand her a “big girl” sized piece of fruit.
Zach’s little hands under his head when he sleeps.
Kayla’s school girl uniform and ponytail.
Jerry’s new glasses and hairstyle – reminding me that we continue to change and grow old together – this promise we made to each other so many years ago.

But these are just the beginning. Am I really listening? God – I know you are there and you are whispering to me the instructions for what I should be focusing on in the complexities of each moment. Help me to stop and see what you see.

2011-04-09T23:38:00.011-04:00

I Don’t Know the Half of It

Please read this post in its entirety. If read out of context you will miss important points and likely judge me severely.

I used to think I had it all figured out – this world, my life, God…but then life happened and I continue to realize that I don’t know the half of it.

When I was young, I was sure that I wanted the princess wedding to the perfect husband and the 2 kids – a boy and a girl – and a career working in an office where I made others happy. I came home to my cute, sparkling clean house and made a healthy meal every night. You can see where this kind of thinking is going… Don’t get me wrong, I have a good life, just not that level of perfection.

I was sure I had this world all figured out – you do good, good things result. You do bad, well, don’t even try it.

God – he was always there and predictable – black and white rules led my life. If you committed suicide, you went to hell. If you were gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender, you might as well forget about God. If you were sick, God would heal. I was sure I knew it all – this dogmatic view of life. But I’m here to tell you – I got it all wrong – because THEN life happened.

THEN: My godfather’s wife committed suicide. I remember praying for her when she was fighting for her life in the hospital – in a coma. I saw darkness over her – pitch black, relentless. As I prayed (and I knew many others were too), I saw the darkness leave and light shine over her. I felt as though God told me it was OK to stop praying – that everything was going to be fine. She died on my birthday. I believe that the darkness of this life was too much for her – that she was deceived into thinking this was her only way out. But I believe she had faith. I believe that she is at peace and in heaven. I believe this because my mind is too small for this limitless God to truly believe that I even begin to comprehend what He is doing and can do to save us. BOTTOM LINE: God decides who has faith and who is in heaven. He knows our hearts. Who am I to judge otherwise?

THEN: I became friends with the most loving, positively joyful bisexual woman. She was in a great, supportive relationship with her transgendered partner. We talked about everything under the sun – religion / relationship with God, love, respect, community. We were more different than any other two people could be. I believe that Jesus taught me to love her because he would have too. She was brutally attacked about 4 months ago and died from her injuries a day later. She should have died immediately. I joined others in praying that God would reveal Himself to her and save her. My friend had a vision of her in heaven. I truly believe she is there. BOTTOM LINE: God has not called me to be judgmental, but to love all people. He has a plan for our lives that is best for us. We need to tune into that plan and follow Him.

THEN: I had chronic back pain. One day, family members prayed over me and I was miraculously healed. A few years later, my mom got breast cancer. Family members prayed over her and she was NOT healed. She had radical surgery and months of chemotherapy. I can’t imagine the physical, spiritual and emotional toll she endured. In my mind, she should have been healed immediately. BOTTOM LINE: Healing is decided by God and on His terms. We will never know what separates us from him that causes those parts of our lives to go awry.

THEN: The frailty of life is constantly in my view. I can’t even explain to you the number of people I am close to or are in my extended family that have died in the last few months. I’m reading a book called Crazy Love by Francis Chan. He reminds us in chapter 2 that our life is just vapor – here today and gone in an instant. And I’m reminded ever so clearly that I boldly and dogmatically go forward in this life – STILL – after all of these experiences that should tell me otherwise and STILL have the audacity to believe that I will never die. BOTTOM LINE: I need to love relentlessly, and make each moment count because death is all around me. We will never know when our lives will end.

So I come before all of you now realizing my brokenness – even more than yesterday. I am open to possibility – open to change – open to what God wants to do, but honestly – I’m not always listening. So I’m walking away from this screen and I’m going to be quiet for awhile. Maybe He has something to say, or maybe it is the quiet that will be the conversation today. No matter – because life will still happen and THEN I will learn more of how I can love. BOTTOM LINE: It’s all about love and even then – I still don’t know the half of it.

2011-04-04T22:51:00.010-04:00

How Les Miserables Saved Me

The last couple of weeks have been pretty stressful for me (hence my absence here in the blogosphere). I’ve let too many things get to me on a personal level that shouldn’t affect me, normally don’t affect me. The bottom line is that I allowed the burdens of this life to overtake me for this period of time and it negatively affected me in many ways. I broke out in hives, I couldn’t sleep well, I was nauseous. I was angry, snapped at my family, and avoided people.

The days were heavy, dark, tedious, drudgery. The thankfulness was gone and consequently the joy. I was really struggling with a lot of things…more than I cared to admit.

You see, we all say things we don’t mean – we say that people, situation, things “drive us crazy”. I’ve tried very hard for a long time to avoid saying things like that because I believe very strongly in the power of words to affect you, to change you, to break you down. And yet, these last couple of weeks my tongue was going through some type of adolescent rebellion and I did not do a thing to keep it in check. So I believe that I was starting to live under the curses of those words I was speaking.

I believe that is how the enemy works – he starts chipping away at your mind. There is some mental illness in my family and there was a little part of me that kept asking the question, “Am I next?” What an awful lie to believe. The battleground is the mind and I was letting mine be setup for the massacre.

A few days ago we went to see Les Miserables. This is mine and Jerry’s favorite play. I was anxious and tense and was doing my best to snap out of it so I could enjoy myself. About half way through the first act I begged God to forgive me. I told Him I couldn’t handle these things any more – I couldn’t hold onto these burdens and I desperately needed His peace. And as I opened my eyes, His peace washed over me. Instantly the tension was gone. I held Jerry’s hand.

We watched the play – my favorite song – when Fantine dies – “Come to Me” did not make me cry as it normally does. Towards the end of the play – I was taken by surprise – strangely, like I have been nearly every other time I have watched it by the words that I love so dearly – the words that have settled this work of art into my heart forever. The main character, Jean Val Jean is dying and as he joins Fantine and Eponine in heaven singing, he turns and says, “To love another person is to see the face of God.” My tears fell down as I realized that I truly don’t get it. I do not see God because I do not love. My heart is cold and God is absent when I do not love.

All of this pain, this turbulence, this instability that I’ve been fighting – it was because love was absent. This overwhelming thought settled into my brain. I became resolute to find a way to love at all times, all places, all circumstances. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I know that I must.

So Les Miserables – “the miserable” – the miserable experiences, people, circumstances – they truly are the things that will save me – if only I have love.

2011-04-02T22:26:00.008-04:00

Thankful During the Thankless Times

Last weekend was from all appearances a disaster. We attempted a road trip to visit my parents and on the way, little Abby threw up in the car. We thought it best to go home – and I believe it was the right thing to do. I started fighting waves of nausea later that evening and fought hard to keep from throwing up. (I can’t stand to vomit – I will do just about anything to keep it from happening.)

At about 2am, I just sat in the bathroom and prayed…the waves of nausea crashing into me – relentlessly. As I implored God to spare me, my prayer turned to praise. I began thanking him – the unthinkable in that moment – it just overflowed from me. I thanked him that I had not been sick, that we were home, that none of the other kids were sick, that they were sleeping peacefully. And strangely enough, I thanked him for being sick. I don’t remember the rest – I think that extreme fatigue set in at that point and after a period of nothing, I crawled back into bed.

I never did get sick and none of the rest of us did either, thank God. And as I lay in bed the next day – still fighting the after affects, I marveled at how this God could move me to praise him at one of my lowest moments. Surely His ways are above our ways and He always deserves our praise.

How has God moved you to praise him in unthinkable circumstances?

2011-03-23T23:21:00.004-04:00

How Can I Make a Difference? I’ve been asking myself the question a lot lately – how can I make a difference in this world? It seems as though I have this charmed life – at least by cultural standards. The house, the car, the 3 cute kids, the awesome husband, the good job. And all of those things are good and I’m very grateful for what I have. But I’ve been asking myself lately – is this it? Is there more to this life? I feel most alive when I’m at home with my children – seeing the world through their eyes. Then I look beyond that and see a world in so much pain – atrocities happening every minute – tragedies in faraway lands, so many without so much and I keep asking myself – how can I make a difference? I believe that God has put me here in this place and during this time for a purpose, but I’ve only begun to see glimpses of it. I haven’t put all of the pieces together and that must mean that I am not ready to. But there is one thing that is for sure – I’m starting to squirm a little bit, to stir, to realize that things can’t just stay the same. I’m not sure that means that I get on a plane and go to Africa, although I admire those who do it. It could be as simple as creating the community here that God wants me to create – to serve and love others so that they can begin to know who he is. But where do I begin? What do I need to do? One of my favorite bands of all time, Jars of Clay say it best with a song from their new CD – the song – “Small Rebellions”, the album “The Shelter.” Here is the story behind the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPz0UASNV1A&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL I don’t claim to know the answers to my questions, yet. But I’ll keep praying and starting to make the small changes that I believe God wants me to make while looking for the big ones that I’m sure are around the bend.

2011-03-16T23:57:00.003-04:00

Looking for Green Things When I was a little girl, one of the things I loved most was exploring our yard during the spring and summer. Our house was about 20-25 years old at that point and there was so much vegetation on the perimeter of the yard that there was always something new to discover. Spring was always exciting – buds popping out here, flowers pushing through the earth there. Now that I’m older I’m teaching my kids to look for green things in our yard. Already there are tiny daffodils, hyacinths, tiger lilies, and lily of the valley barely pushing through the dirt. If you look closely at the trees, tiny buds are appearing. Birds are chirping, worms are wiggling, bugs are scurrying. If you look hard enough the earth is coming alive right in front of you. These seasons – I’ve never realized until this year how attached I am to the changes they bring. Winter is my least favorite season, but the beginning of it this past year was cleansing, exciting to me. I can’t say enough about this spring. Being outside tonight with the kids sharing their excitement in finding these green things – Abby’s laugh as she was swinging, Zach going head first down the slide, Kayla searching for worms under rocks – this is what life is all about. So many other parts of my life have turned to drudgery and the last few days I haven’t let this joy, this discovery of what is most important penetrate through the sludge. But today the light finally broke through. This is the year of joy, right? Enter in – JOY – my heart and hands are open.

2011-03-11T00:50:00.004-05:00

Still There I saw something 3 months ago – something I will never forget. All of you know about it as I have written about it before. But here we are – there is something about that incident that is still there in my mind, my consciousness. You see, there was a hearing and soon there will be a trial and I know that I will be involved. I was called to the hearing to testify, but I waited and I did not talk, but I could see in the courtroom. I could see the person that did this. And I know I’m a strong person and I would like to think that this does not affect me – this does not rule my life – this does not cast a shadow over me. But the truth is painful to realize… The truth is that this thing affects me more than I care to admit – more than I allow myself to process, to face. The last couple of days have seemed greyer – the rain doesn’t help. Everywhere I see signs of spring – tiny flowers poking up from the ground, geese and ducks making nests, frail buds on trees. I’ve been looking forward to this time for so long. Each season brings a refreshing change to me that invigorates my soul. This is a change that I need so much – that I refuse to let go of – that I refuse to let the darkness of this experience touch. But it is doing that – just a little bit. The first step to healing is admitting the problem, right? So I’m admitting to you, friends. I’m not strong enough alone to get through these things and I ask for your prayers. Deep down I am at peace – I know God is watching over me – his faithfulness I never question. Thank you.

2011-03-08T22:24:00.003-05:00

Lightening Fast This journey of motherhood has changed me in more ways than one. I’m a person that loves structure, routine and predictability. All three of those went out the window when sweet Kayla Beba came along almost 6 years ago. Two more kids later and it continues to be a whirlwind of chaos. These three babes have made me a better person and I’m so grateful. While we’ve established routines and structure along the way as they have grown there is still so much unpredictability on a daily basis – sometimes good – beautiful pictures created or new found skills, sometimes bad – never ending poo. What continually takes my breath away however is the speed at which this life is flying past me. It is a much more dramatic pace now as I watch these wee ones grow, change, and experience this life. I was really good recording their milestones when they were babies and even kept a 1 year guided journal for all three of them. But now that they are older, I’m having a hard time keeping up with everything new and exciting that happens on a daily basis. I’m trying so hard to stop and take mental snapshots of these new things – Abby’s mischievous smile, Zach’s funny comments, Kayla’s dramatic stories. Try as I might, I can’t slow down these experiences – they flash before me lightening fast. I grasp at them in vain and leave with only a tiny glimmer of what they were. And even though it feels like it will never be enough – at least I have that tiny flash of a memory tucked deep into my heart. We laugh and sing and dance together and I feel as though my heart will burst with love for these three. I push away the thoughts of the future and days when they will leave me and focus so hard on living in the now – capturing this joy. There will never be another day like today. I’m so humbled to be in this place…this holy ground where God allows me to feel this overwhelming love for my children. I’m so thankful that I opened my heart to this possibility – to throw caution to the wind and allow them to live and grow in me and close to me.

2011-03-07T23:27:00.003-05:00

Sibling Surprises Each child we have had has brought many surprises – things that make us laugh, cry, and just look at each other in wonder. But the most surprising aspect of having more than one child is how they interact as siblings. I am surprised when they hug each other, comfort each other, and find ever new ways to play together. I am in awe of the relationships these little people have with each other and the joy they bring to our home. But I shouldn’t really be surprised – I’m from a large family – there are 5 of us – 2 boys and 3 girls. Our house was always loud and exciting and there was always someone to play with and something to do. I don’t recall watching much TV growing up and I count that as a huge blessing. These other 4 people – we laughed and cried together, built a whole basement full of tents, dug a swimming pool together (if only for a day), rode bikes, went camping and for better or for worse, always had each other. And now here we are – years later – spread across the country and some of us – on the other side of the world. This sibling love goes on – but it is different now – richer, more understanding, easily picking up where we left off and always funny. Twin brother – so far away, but close to my heart – doing the work he was always meant to do…we are both writing, but in such different ways. I knew the day in high school when you left on a trip with a friend that was the beginning of our times apart and I cried. Little brother – my “partner” when we played – always zany and unique and unexpected. So awesome to see the loving dad you are. Little sister – the one I waited for, prayed for as a child – holding your little hands in the car squeezed into the seat belt, playing Barbie’s – everything – “just like Jenny”. What kindred spirits we are – having children the same day. I never knew you wanted to be just like me THAT much! Little bunny – pictures of me holding you – your nose always running - I remember changing your diapers and taking you out of your play pen, silverware families, and lots and lots of beauty pageants watched. You are beautiful inside and out. The four of you – I admit, I take you for granted (and I don’t mean to), but I can’t imagine this life without you. You are truly my best friends. These sibling surprises – these gifts of who you are that God has given me – I’m so grateful for you. I have a dream of a day when we all spend a vacation together by a lake just like when we were younger – sunshine and campfires and time spent together. I believe that day is coming soon. Dream with me. I love you all.

2011-03-02T22:48:00.005-05:00

Harsh Light Winter is still holding on around these parts and it isn’t too surprising. In Michigan you can expect to see snow fly anytime between now and in some rare instances the beginning of May. But I’m surprised by the “big snows” we had last week. It seems about this time last year, the thaw started. I may even recall seeing the first robin around the first week in March…but I digress. There are so few sunny days this time of year that when they do come, I stand up and take notice. I’ve found that the sun shines harshly this time of year. It’s a different kind of light then what you see in the summer. Summer’s sunlight is more orange – warmer – not as in how it feels (although the temperature is a factor) but in how it looks. Winter’s sunlight is harsh and pale yellow – almost white. I think it makes me squint harder trying to take it all in – my eyes almost rejecting it. I’ve found that this harsh light shines on days I don’t want it too…sad days when we bury family members, friends, loved ones. Its harsh light – something we would welcome any other time of the year – makes it colder and stark. Instead of shining on us – it shines through us. It’s a different kind of sunlight. But I do not control the weather and the sun and somehow in the middle of those tough times, God must know that we need this light – even as harsh as it is. So I still take notice on these sunny days and try to understand what they mean and take it all in. For my all knowing God who sees the whole picture gave it to me this day and I can be thankful for it – capture that joy – transcend the harshness.

2011-03-01T00:02:00.005-05:00

Tearing it Apart I’m often inspired by songs and I can’t get the song Fireflies and Songs by Sara Groves out of my head. What strikes me about the song is the idea of tearing apart a music box to find a song. Of course, in the process of doing so, the music box no longer plays. I feel like lately I’m tearing apart this life…layer by layer getting to what is supposed to be my focus, my center, the most important thing. So much is happening around me – I feel like I’m being swept away – pulled in so many directions. I’m to the point where I feel like if I keep pulling on these layers I will be at a breaking point. Yet somehow my center stays calm – as if I’m watching the chaos from a safe place. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect me…I become angry, tired, irritated, I cry too easily, I’m pessimistic. It’s so hard to see past the pieces of this broken life around me. I keep tearing apart the pieces of this life looking for my purpose when God has really only called me to be still and know Him. To take these experiences good, bad, ugly, beautiful, thoughtful, awe-inspiring and to just know Him – experience Him, love Him. Love Him through the eyes of my children – seeing the joy on their faces, becoming part of their creative, no boundaries world. Love Him through the wonder He has given us in this world - I look up at the stars in a crisp cold night and know that He is there. This swirling, whirling world keeps moving so fast and all my efforts to tame it, control it, bluster through it in my anger and pain will never work. Instead I’m staying still – I’m done tearing it apart. I decide today to let the music play.

2011-02-23T22:39:00.007-05:00

Love for the Latte

What can I say? I’m in love with my latte. It greets me in the morning – frothy, tasty, and warm in my hand pushing out the cold, slowly waking me up. This love for the latte – I can’t imagine a day without it. However, I’m guessing like most of you, I wasn’t born a coffee drinker.

I started drinking coffee in my teens – I remember my first cup – my Dad handed it over to me and asked, “Do you want anything in it?” It seemed like a test – so I paused…cream seemed safe. Sugar…that didn’t seem quite right… I drank a few sips black…I held back my pucker face. I stirred in the cream. “Better?” he asked and I nodded. Somehow I knew I had to get through that cup. I was definitely not a “regular” yet.

Fast forward to college – I didn’t know it yet, but I was about to experience the holy grail of coffee shops – Water Street Coffee Joint. The original location – across the street from Bell’s Brewery in Kalamazoo is what all coffee shops should aspire to be. Quirky and quaint in a tiny, old converted gas station near the train tracks, the original building was so small, 2-3 people could barely stand in line to order at the same time. The sunshine logo in yellow and orange with the cobalt blue background and mug were perfect (still is). We were always crammed in and sometimes you could not find a seat – but you waited anyway. Their mocha was the stuff Folgers coffee dreams of being when it grows up and starts wearing makeup and dressing fancy. The fresh cream (lightly flavored with vanilla) alone was enough to make you want suck down that heart racing, rich chocolately dream drink. Jerry did not drink coffee UNTIL he had a Water Street Mocha. He was converted – right then and there.

True story – we went to Chicago during those years and went to Starbuck’s for the first time. We both ordered mochas – mistake number one. What we didn’t know then that we know now is that a Starbuck’s mocha in my opinion is their worst latte drink. We didn’t finish our drinks – it tasted like –*gasp* the fast food of coffee!

Fast forward to now – I’ve been converted to Starbucks. Maybe I have gone backwards on the coffee snob continuum by admitting this fact, but it is all about the love of the latte. Give me sugar free vanilla and breve with that kickin espresso and that first sip is divine – every time. We have duplicated it on our home machine and I have my cobalt blue mug and saucer where I sit and pine away…remembering the days at Water Street. If we lived closer, I would be there…

Enjoy your coffee today, friends.

2011-02-22T23:17:00.002-05:00

Dear God, The weight of these circumstances threaten to overtake me – another day of missed work due to a sick child, the plans unmade for summer care for Kayla, serious illness threatening a close family member, recent passing of a relative. It has been one thing after another for us and I’m tempted to be wound up, angry, hopeless, thankless. My gratitude journal is missing two days worth of entries. If I don’t capture those things – this thankfulness that leads to joy – I know they will be gone forever, but I just can’t seem to do it today. I’m sorry, God, I’m trying to carry all of these things and I know I’m not supposed to, but I’m at such a loss right now. I’m craving normalcy, but change all at the same time. I don’t know what my future holds, but I know that you do. So I’m sitting over here – praying against this anger, this hopelessness and I know you are listening, but I can’t help but crying out this frustration. I hope you are feeling patient because I’ll be handing you over a bunch of things today. Love, Jenny

2011-02-18T23:09:00.006-05:00

It’s Almost Here It’s almost here…warm, windy days, flowers pushing through the earth, robins chirping and yet this glimpse of spring today is something I’m having a hard time accepting. Fifty degrees in mid February is more of a tease than something to be embraced as reality. To those that don’t watch the calendar – today looks every bit like an early March day – wind whipping and wind chime slamming, sunshiny, snow melting day. But I’m just not ready yet. Back in January I said I was looking forward to spring and yet here I am the skeptic – resisting the urge to take a walk, to let the sun shine on my face. Why is this thing called change – even a change that brings hopes and light and fresh breeze so hard to embrace? I feel the breeze blowing through my cracked window and I want to welcome it – let it blow out the funk of this cold, dark, sad winter, but I can’t believe that it is really here or meant for me. Isn’t that how life is? God giving us gifts all over the place – each day – each moment if we would only look and open them up: 113. Endless blue sky 114. Shiny, clean car 115. Snow disappearing miraculously overnight 116. Each day precious with loved ones Change is hard for this set-in-her-ways girl…but even though change is painful – blowing wind must dry the ground – I’m resolving to open my hands and my heart to what these winds bring.

2011-02-17T23:06:00.008-05:00

Thank You! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Since I have been actively blogging again from January until now - you have visited my blog 1200 times! I'm humbled, awed, floored and over all THANKFUL! I love writing here and sharing with y'all. I would love to hear from you - please post a comment (or three) when you get a chance. It has been a busy day, so I will leave you this musical interlude. See ya soon! MercyMe - Move (click the picture to play the video)

2011-02-16T22:59:00.017-05:00

Memories of Grandma

In memory of my Grandma – Donna Rudowske – whose birthday was last week. Grandma went to be with Jesus 5 years ago.

When I think of you Grandma, I see you with all of the rings on your fingers, a knitted purse in your hand and your “ehl-ehl-ehl” car. You are telling a story and looking for ways to teach us girls the more traditional things that girls learned in your day – knitting, crocheting, and sewing. We all tried to be good students, but I never quite learned any one of them very well.

But the treasures you had, the history of those things, the pictures – those are what always piqued my interest. You gave me your hope chest – filled with treasures. I’ve looked through them many times – crisp, white pillow cases with blue birds embroidered on them; a yellowed linen towel with purple flowers, an embroidered pillowcase doll – faded red lips smiling at me. I was looking through these things the other day and found the notes you left me – what they were, where they came from, who made them. How did I not notice them before now? The history of these things spelled out – making them even more sentimental.

You gave me your tiny ring with the “R” on it. It did not fit one of my fingers (or toes), but I kept it anyway. Later I gave it to my sister. You bought me my birthstone ring when I turned 16 – peridot green still gleaming in its tarnished band. You crochet little purses for coins – made purses using so many different materials that we joked that you could make a purse out of anything. I think my love of purses started with those ones you made years ago.

The beautiful crochet rose square blanket you made for me (and identical ones with different thread for my sisters) – how perfect that it matches all of the colors in my craft room. It is draped over my little couch in there – as if you had made it for that space. How did you know?

We weren’t always respectful of you, Grandma and I’m so sorry for that. You always loved us and wanted to show us the things that were important to you. You took us to the flea market where you sold your treasures. You gave me pretty teacups – beautiful pieces that someone had thrown away. We use those for holidays and I think of you.

I miss you Grandma and I’m so happy that I will see you again someday in heaven. I’m sure that when I get there – you will be wearing your rings and holding your newest purse and I can’t wait to see the ones you have made for all of your friends. I love you.

2011-02-14T23:39:00.014-05:00

We Celebrate Anyway

The last several weeks have been really trying for our family and extended family. We’ve suffered through illness, untimely death, and other stressful situations. Over this past weekend, I felt as if I were at my breaking point, but I found that keeping up with my thankfulness journal really helped me keep perspective on everything.

Today on Valentine’s Day, I’m reminded of the most important things to celebrate – love, family, and the decision to celebrate.

We celebrate by giving each other cards, candy, hearts, flowers, and small gifts. But it is not the gifts that matter – it’s the people giving those gifts that we hold near to our hearts. If I chose to look at the circumstances around me, there would be no reason to celebrate – I could easily be depressed or exhausted, or just look for the simplest way to get through the day. But instead we celebrate anyway – in the midst of the pain, fear, illness, waiting, and sorrow. We choose to take a different path – to choose joy in the simple act of giving paper hearts, homemade cards, and cookies.

I wear a cross around my neck occasionally. It took me a long time to decide if I wanted to wear one because I didn’t want to dishonor what it stood for or disrespect Jesus’ sacrifice by my bad behavior while wearing it. The cross – the symbol of ultimate suffering during Jesus’ time becomes a symbol of our salvation – a treasured and honored reminder of new life from horrible suffering and death. We choose to make this awful thing represent eternal life.

Ultimately I believe we have made it through these last several weeks by choosing to believe and have hope that this is not the way it should be, has to be or will be forever. We don’t always get it right, but I believe that God if faithful. He has shown his face to us during this trying time.

We choose to celebrate anyway and welcome the joy of this love He has given us.

2011-02-11T22:37:00.007-05:00

Staying Open I used to be pretty stuck in my ways – territorial, rigid in my plans, and definitely not spontaneous. But then I had children and well, I had to put those ways behind me. It wasn’t an easy process and I’m still learning everyday how to stay open – how to consider all possibilities – how to love first instead of selfishly considering my own agenda. Several years ago, Jerry and I took a class at our church – a survey of the whole Bible over 2 years. In one of the first few lessons, I learned something that I had never thought of before. If love is what God wants us to do then sin is its polar opposite – sin is love turned in on itself. I’m sure like many of you, I had learned that sin was a bad thing that we had to avoid, but when put in this context sin is defined more clearly as any action where I act selfishly. Wow, right? Whenever I refuse to be open to something new and different, I consider my own ways over someone else. Not the best idea if I am learning to love perfectly as Jesus wants me to do. So I’m learning to be open – open to reading a book, playing with trains, an unexpected phone call, a message asking me to pause and pray, to listen, to talk, to take an unexpected trip. I’m not just learning the good things – but the hard things too – illness, pain, loss, death. He is teaching me to love first and consider myself second. Below is a song that I love that captures this idea – staying open – Like a Lake by Sara Groves. so much hurt and preservation like a tendril round my soul so much painful information no clear way on how to hold it when everything in me is tightening curling in around this ache I will lay my heart wide open like the surface of a lake wide open like a lake standing at this waters edge looking in at God's own heart I've no idea where to begin to swallow up the way things are everything in me is drawing in closing in around this pain I will lay my heart wide open like the surface of a lake wide open like a lake bring the wind and bring the thunder bring the rain till I am tried when it's over bring me stillness let my face reflect the sky and all the grace and all the wonder of a peace that I can't fake wide open like a lake everything in me is tightening curling in around this ache I am fighting to stay open I am fighting to stay open open open oh wide open open like a lake How are you learning to be open?

2011-02-09T11:37:00.003-05:00

One More Day My coffee is cold, but I take another drink anyway and pad on over to warm it up. I look out into the living room at their faces – watching a movie…sweet and innocent - and I’m happy, content. I know that I am meant to be here for today, for this time. Little boy – over the illness that put him down for nearly 5 days. He says, “I feel good today, mama.” I’m so happy. Big girl – quiet and a bit warm. “I want to go to school” she says and then coughs hard and gets quiet again. “I want you to go” I think to myself. But in my heart I know that we just need one more day. I need one more day…one more day to snuggle close to them, to let them know I love them, another day to pass this test of motherhood. You see, I get impatient and angry and I yell too much. I’ve been home with them so many days in the past two months and for some reason, I just can’t get this thing right. But a good friend reminded me today that "Every day that you wake up in the midst of your mess and resolve, every day that you try, and yes even every day that you fail, your heavenly Father is proud of you." So I keep trying and each day there is small progress and I know He sees. I’m here with them, one more day and who knows how many more and I will keep loving them and working on this patience thing and being a bit quieter and a lot more loving.

2011-02-07T22:29:00.006-05:00

The Party that Wasn’t We’ve prepared for this day – cake ordered, paper goods bought, theme chosen, invitations sent, gifts waiting. We’ve prepared for this day to celebrate, because that is what you do to celebrate the lives of these children - our blessings. But what if the party wasn’t to be? Guests arrive; birthday boy playing and having fun, food ready, gifts piled high…excitement builds…balloons sway. But then he is slowing down…he wants us to hold him, we do. He grows warm, he can’t keep his eyes open, his food uneaten. The party stops. We talk, we wait, but we all keep asking ourselves the question…what if the party can’t continue? What will we do with the cake – uncut – too much to eat by this family of five. Gifts, unwrapped…no one to observe the tearing and celebrating? He sleeps and we wait…it is not a long time, but it is anguish. What if? Should we cut the cake anyway? It would be heartbreaking for him not to blow out candles… As parents, we wait, because we want our children to experience the best of what we have for them. We plan and we wait patiently…giving grace because in doing so, we experience the joy of our children unwrapping all we have for them. Someone else is waiting for us…our heavenly Father. He has given us so many gifts…our cake beautifully decorated, he – anxiously waiting. Will she take the gift of grace I have for her? He, accept who I am? He waits…gifts collecting dust…cake uncut…company of heaven waiting. How heartbreaking for him to wait on us receiving his love – accepting the gift of who he is and the gifts of each day – each moment – that he wants to bring to our lives. He wakes up…medication working – blows out the candles, wants to open gifts. Jumps and screams and yells after the ripping and tearing – plays. Thank goodness – this party WAS…it happened; we finish celebrating and are thankful. We hold him close. He wants to hold YOU close – unwrap the gifts – come to the party, eat the cake – RECEIVE what he wants you to have today. He is waiting for you – accept the gifts of today and let the party begin.

2011-02-06T22:11:00.003-05:00

To My Wonderful Boy This is a tribute to my son Zachary who turned three on 2/4. Three years ago, you came into this world after one triumphant push…your sweet little cry filling my ears. My sweet, special boy – the result of my 2nd pregnancy and first labor. Eleven hours of labor – I was giddy and happy when my water broke and introspective through the hard, late hours. Pushing you out was the hardest work I have ever done, but definitely the most rewarding. My heart raced for a day…but I was fine. I stared at you in your clear little bed – swaddled, hat on, little face squinted in sleep. You cooed, and sighed and I knew that I was in love…love at first sight. What would I do with you, my sweet little boy? You name – Zachary John – means “remembered by a gracious God” and oh, how gracious He had been to me – that day – those days following your birth. It is three years later and I can’t believe how you have grown. Not quite a toddler, not quite a boy, but always wonderful. You make me laugh – your twice dimpled smile makes me melt. I cannot resist you. Loud, fast, running, jumping, screeching, growling, tackling me…you pause and your little arms are around my neck, “I love you mommy.” I am still in love with you my son. I didn’t know how to love a boy, how to raise you, how to do this thing – being your mom, but you showed me how. I will never be the same since we met. I’m so grateful that God gave you to me. Happy birthday, my Zachary John.

2011-02-02T23:45:00.002-05:00

A Small Sanctuary I have three small children, which means that my house is pretty much at some level of chaos – laundry, toys, dishes, crumbs, papers – stuff in every direction. I don’t do very well with chaos like this. My idea of order is things put in their place – within reason. Overall, I tend to have a cluttered or “lived in” house, which is fine. But there are certain things that if not tended to make me vibrate just a little bit. But life is what it is and I don’t always get to those things that keep the order that I crave. I’ve found, however, that a made bed can somehow be a small sanctuary. Making our bed in the morning leaves a single, peaceful spot in our room that somehow centers me. I can sit on the bed, read, take a couple of minutes to pray and enjoy the crisp, neatness on this floating island in the middle of my room. (Never mind the ever present laundry baskets just out of view or the cluttered dressers.) While this is a physical place that I can retreat to, I need, want and crave that spiritual place of rest also. That rest for my soul. I need to take the time to pause, to pray, to put all into perspective and to not let the swirling, whirling, fast moving world overtake me. So I go to this sanctuary with Jesus. He is the source of my calm and peace during all parts of the day, not just at the end where I can return to my small sanctuary with Jerry and rest in his arms. What is your small sanctuary?

2011-01-31T12:59:00.003-05:00

Distant Horizon Today I’m working hard at finding the good…looking for what to thank Him for…finding the joy. Because if I relied on my circumstances, I would be overcome. Tragedy always seems to come in multiples and I can’t sit here and anticipate the next one. Instead I can try to stop, right here and turn it around. Being right here is how I can experience the joy…only here, only now. I’ve been writing it all down the last week or so – per day, by number. I’m determined – determined to grasp this joy – I won’t give up. I’m thankful for: 50. Blue sky in the distance beyond the clouds. 51. Being home with a sweet baby girl, who even though she is sick is in good spirits. 52. Having known an awesome person, my brother-in-law, who God decided he needed more. You see, if I look forward, past all this and think about what I have to get through – what we have to get through as a family, I miss the joy of what is right now. Even if it isn’t ideal or easy or simple. Even if it is complicated, messy, painful. That joy does not rely on my circumstances – what is happening around me, but this conscious decision to be thankful no matter what. So I stop and look outside. The blue sky is out there – far in the distant horizon. I can’t reach it and maybe it will never be right here, but I can see it and be thankful. I can stop and experience this moment and name it and write it down and then it is mine forever. Friends, please stop today – stop right where you are. See that joy in front of you…experience NOW, don’t rush past, hang on to this moment – there will never be another one like it. Life is too fragile to keep going this fast. That distant horizon is not beyond you or out of reach, but right here. Don’t let it get away.

2011-01-28T21:41:00.004-05:00

Feet, Glorious Feet At times you will find that profundity eludes me, so I just have to go to silly land for a bit. I have a confession to make…I love my feet. Yes, this is a sincere, unabashed love for my piggies. When my fat little toes are polished – they gleam like wiggling jewels and I can’t help but stare at them. I take a peek and just smile to myself. That whole barefoot and pregnant thing? Yea, I was all over that! How could I resist the urge to walk around with my feet burrowing into the carpet – feeling the softness between my toes? Toes in the grass? Yes indeed! Toes in the sand – why not? Toes on the cool, tile floor – mmmm hmmm. Wait...what? It’s winter? Awww shucks, yes, that is a bit of a downer. Poor little chubby things are stuck in socks, slippers and shoes…fighting the good fight to get out. The occasional appearance yields naked little toe nails – a bit shy and bleary eyed from the bright light. Not sure if they want to touch that tile floor these days…content to live in the ugly brown sweater socks. It’s OK, little lovelies…spring will be here soon…maybe we should try that pretty Spring Fling nail polish to warm you up? Ahhhh yes, I thought you might like that. ;)

2011-01-27T21:22:00.004-05:00

The Sound of the Tea Kettle Years ago, at Grandma’s house, the sound of the tea kettle called us to every meal. Sturdy and shiny with no top – only the small spout to fill with water. We came and ate and she sipped…and I will never forget. Tea unites us… Brother’s red tea in a far away land Mom’s Lipton for everyday iced tea Grandma’s Salada so hard to find Best friend’s green tea in all forms – hot, cold, sweetened, bottled Lost friend’s cinnamon spice Niece’s chai Father in law’s room temperature black tea Friend’s herbal spiced tea Sister’s Oh My Chai! My love - out drinking white tea Sweetened, unsweetened, milk, cream, hot, cold, tea latte… The tea kettle – its soft whistle unites us – binds us together in friendship, love, and connects us when we are miles apart. Memories, warmth, soothing, peaceful. It’s cold, my friends…turn on the tea kettle…I’ll be there with you in spirit.

2011-01-26T22:27:00.003-05:00

Holding On She – round, dimpled face, messy hair, mischievous smile…running, squealing, trying so hard to talk. Me – momma to three, watching my last baby growing so fast…each stage so bittersweet, holding on so tight…too tight, maybe. Last few days…so.hard.to.face. Not so long ago, she was born; so fast her sweet little head didn’t have time to become misshapen. Breastfeeding was as natural as if we had known each other our whole lives. The hours spent in my comfy place as she nursed…I watched the snow fall. Time slips through the hourglass and I’m in denial of what is so obvious…it’s all ending…one of the last glimpses of babyhood. She would rather play and read her books…so opinionated in her arched back and fussing…toddlerhood embraced so soon…too soon…my heart hurts. I swallow my tears…I smile and hug and kiss her…I let her go…those little wings starting to take flight… My sweet baby, how I will miss our quiet moments in the half light, your content sighs, your sweet little face sleeping in my arms, so close… I will never forget this time we’ve had together my little Abby. I don’t know when it ends, but I’m always here, my love.

2011-01-24T22:51:00.005-05:00

The Winter of Discontent Back to that discussion of joy…better yet – the living out of joy. I have a confession to make, I haven’t been very joyful lately – can you tell by the last few posts? And yet here I am in the year of joy and with it being so fresh and new and all I haven’t quite slipped it out of its pretty, iridescent wrapping and really embraced this shiny, new thing. It’s kind of like when I buy journals or new books and *gasp* don’t crack them open. (Check out one of my original posts from the archives on Journals.) I’ve come to realize that I’m in the Winter of Discontent. Yes, I capitalized it to emphasize how much it is affecting me. It has dawned on me that this Winter of Discontent started last year, but it had its beginning long before that…in a showering of seeds that hadn’t quite sprouted until a year ago. You see, I was on that mama high – nearing the end of my leave time after Abby was born. I had about a month to go and the thought of going back made me reel. After every child I wanted to find a way to stay home with them, but it wasn’t to be. But here I was child #3 in my arms and the thought of going back again, for a 3rd time was more than I could bear. We had been praying and pinching pennies, but it wasn’t enough. It was wintry and bitterly cold that January – much like it is now. I stared out into the snow everyday praying for a miracle. I went back and the return was less than smooth for many reasons – a lot of the problems of my own doing, some not. The Winter of Discontent was in full swing. The last big snowstorm of the year happened my first day back to work. I cried. Spring came and now a full year has passed and these scenes, images, repeating themes haunt me. This Winter of Discontent – it never fully went away. But I’m reading a new book and I hope all of you will consider reading it too – One Thousand Gifts. The author, Ann Voskamp is an awesome blogger that I have had the pleasure to read over the last 5 years. In the first couple of chapters she rips my heart wide open and I realized that gratitude – being thankful for where you are right now is what gets me to joy. And even though I have posted that joy flows into those other things, a thankless heart has nowhere to go. So I’m making lists – much like she did – starting small…learning to be thankful / content in all situations. It’s in these things we don’t understand – the supernatural power of gratitude – where I believe the true miracle lies. I look forward to spring and the true end of this Winter of Discontent. I know that I will find that joy stirring up inside me, melting the snow of this thankless heart.

2011-01-23T22:34:00.002-05:00

On the Baking of Bread I’ve been baking a lot of bread lately. It’s not like I have a lot of skills or enjoy kneading it – I actually just use my bread maker. It’s not like we need the bread or prefer it over commercial bread. We usually buy a heavy wheat bread as our normal, daily bread and I usually make white Italian bread when I bake it. So I bake the bread, but it’s not for any of the things you would think. I enjoy the smell of it rising and baking and the way it warms the kitchen on these bitterly cold January days. I haven’t even eaten much of the bread that I’ve made. It’s as if the bread represents something to me that I feel like I need to have right now. When I think of what I will be making for dinner, I think “this would be better with fresh bread.” When I think of it baking and the smell, I think of how comforting it is. I make the bread because it has a different meaning to me. This makes me think about how we all process and work through what we experience in life. We carry around this view of how things should be…our collective experience that is the baggage or view we bring to a situation. Through this cloud of “stuff” we interpret our world. We likely apply a different meaning to a situation then what is expected. This cloud contains the good and the bad of what we have been through. The more bad things we hang onto – unforgiveness, really – the likely we are to interpret situations in a negative way. This is dangerous ground. Jesus does not want us to come to him unless we resolve unforgiveness and conflict in our lives. (Matthew 5:23-25 23 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.) I am not here to preach to any of you about this – I am writing about this because I realize I have a problem with this myself and have to deal with it every day. Remember that forgiveness does not mean that the other person is right; it removes the pain associated with that hurt. Forgiveness is not easy – in fact, it takes supernatural help to truly do it. Please take a moment to reflect – think about what you need. Think about who you need to forgive. Maybe it is a close family member, a former friend, a current co-worker…maybe it is you. Ask God to help you do it. I promise you, this burden was not meant for you to carry, and once you let it go, you will feel as light as air. I know that I need to do the same thing. In the meantime – I’ll be baking bread…and thinking of you, my friends.

2011-01-21T23:05:00.002-05:00

Three Worlds I live in three worlds – work, home, family. I have an important role in each of these three worlds and try as I must, I can’t seem to get it all together in all three. I fail, it seems in all places. At work, I can’t seem to meet the demands put on me…I struggle. And because I struggle, others that rely on me do too. Every day I feel like I’m chipping away at the side of Mount Everest. I derive little satisfaction from what I do there, maybe because the other worlds demand so much attention and mental devotion. Home – something is always piled up – dishes, laundry, toys. While I think that overall things have gotten better, I still struggle with systems and processes to keep up with the day-to-day demands of my home. Family – there is always a little voice demanding my attention. But somehow I have to figure out how to balance that out with the other two worlds when in reality I just don’t want to. I don’t want to balance these three worlds – I want to simplify, change, move around and focus on what is really important – family and only family. But that is just not realistic for me at this time. So what do I do? I don’t have a good answer…I compartmentalize…I allow my daughter to watch too many movies when I’m trying to work from home…I do dishes when the roughhousing begins. My oldest has stopped asking me to play with her…and I feel like I should suggest that we play with something but I know that somehow I won’t be able to hold up my end of the bargain. And my heart breaks a little. And I know how I want to change it, but it would take a miracle. I’m OK with that…I believe it could happen. I keep praying for that miracle.

2011-01-19T23:05:00.004-05:00

Half Way There If you are like me, you start the work week begrudgingly…trying to keep a good attitude for the kids. “School will be fun! You get to see your friends and have recess!” “Daycare will be great – you get to play with your buddies!” But of course, the truth is – none of us is happy about it. Tuesday is really a pointless day in the week – too close to the beginning to feel like you’ve made it anywhere, not further enough into the week to feel like you are almost there. But Wednesday OH WEDNESDAY! Thank goodness for “hump day”. Just getting through Wednesday feels like the climb up the mountain was somehow bearable. Maybe you even think to yourself, “Hey, that wasn’t so bad – I can make it!” It’s nice to make it half way – to feel that sense of accomplishment, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Making it half way of course assumes that you can see the end point. That is the trouble, though isn’t it? In this life we can’t see the end point – we don’t know the landmarks that tell us we are almost there. It is human nature to be striving towards some sort of goal – some lofty motivator for all that we do. You could argue as a person of faith that heaven is that goal – that everything we should be doing is pointing us there and we need to be sure to stay the course. I cannot argue with you on that point. However, I believe that our God wants us to focus on the journey – the relationships, the connections, the love that we share with others. John 13:35 says, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (emphasis mine). But if you are like me, it is just so darn hard to love people! Sure, I respect all people as those created in God’s image and really strive to live out that belief in how I treat others. My family members, close friends, and even some acquaintances – yes, I DO love them. But once I get outside that group, I really struggle. This journey I’m on, I can’t see the goal, I don’t recognize the sign posts, I have only now to experience and somehow practice love with all that I encounter. It is clear that I need supernatural help on this one. But thankfully, God has got me covered on this one. Mark 11:24 says, “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” So Father, I ask you now, teach me how to love so I don’t have to worry about where I’m at during this journey. Please let me know that I’m right where I am supposed to be. Let that be enough.

2011-01-18T17:08:00.003-05:00

Grace I didn’t want to face today. No specific reason, calamity or concern, I just didn’t want to do it. I went to bed too late, did not properly prepare as I normally do. The phone rings too early to be a normal call and I stumble out of bed to answer it. It is Kayla’s school closed due to weather. I sit on the edge of the bed a bit perplexed. There was no weather warning – no big hoopla on the news last night. I tell Jerry that I will stay home with her and lay back down. Minutes later I’m up with Abby…pondering the gift that is today. The gift of being home when it was not planned or even hoped for. I pray my normal morning prayers and it’s as if God is smiling down at me. I thank him for this day. I’m overwhelmed by the grace he has given me and wonder about the purpose of today. You see, there were only a handful of schools closed today – the main school district in our town closed along with Kayla’s school and a few others. It just doesn’t make sense. I can’t help but think that the Father knew what I needed today and here I am. Working, baking bread and cooking soup, making coffee and enjoying the quiet and productivity that comes from being snug at home. How has God shown his grace to you today?

2011-01-16T14:49:00.002-05:00

My Sweet Abigail To my Abigail – a very late birthday tribute. I look in those deep, blue eyes and touch my fingertip to her dimple and watch her wiggle and shoulder sway across the room. This sweet, little baby is NOT a baby anymore, but a toddler?!?!?! I’m in disbelief… I think back to last year at this time – sweet little bundle in my arms sleeping and nursing, waking me up at all hours, cooing, and snuggling, and smelling of sweet, newborn goodness. I look out at the same snow, quietly falling, darkness drifting in… This little girl – the gift I didn’t know I needed…I can’t imagine life without her screeching and boisterous laugh, sweet little hands around my neck, pulling my hair, open-mouthed kisses that sometimes bite. So smart – pointing at what she wants, nodding and shaking her head yes at questions I ask – so staunchly opinionated about life. My sweet Abigail, my life was not complete without you. I’m in awe of the gift that is you and I enjoy every minute we have been given together. In some ways I wish that time would stop, but it is so much more exciting watching you grow and become the sweet little girl God made you to be. I love you my sweet babe.

2011-01-14T15:54:00.006-05:00

Fragments There are pieces of thoughts, emotions, and experiences floating around in my head – fragments really of what happened. I think that overall I’ve gotten over the big stuff, but there are still things lingering that I haven’t fully dealt with. There is a heaviness and dread that I sense near my workplace. Maybe it is all of us collectively hurting still from everything that has happened. Time heals all wounds, sure, but that process is slower for some than others. I try my best to stay away from it…to not let that outside influence steal my joy. I am judgmental of people and how they treat others thinking that we should all be a little nicer to each other after what have been through. But then I turn around and I become angry easily over little things. (Fortunately I have learned not to direct this anger towards others.) I think about how fragile life is and how it can be stolen in a moment. It makes me think that I’m not taking enough risks in life; not giving enough, writing enough, loving enough, reaching out enough. That realization is painful, but pain I have not allowed myself to feel and really deal with. For so long I have made excuses about all of those things and now here I stand at the crossroads and realize that I have to go down that challenging road…how can I not after all of this? I think of my friend’s smiling face – always sunny even when others were cruel, when she faced personal struggles, when challenged with anything and everything. I’m so happy to have the memory of her smile. As I put these fragments together I realize what I’m seeing is the picture of someone who is still healing…that someone who can’t admit these things to herself...because she always has it all together… Yes, it’s true, folks…that girl, she’s not perfect. Whew, it feels good to get that out.

2011-01-13T21:35:00.003-05:00

Ramped Up So yesterday I wrote about joy and well, today, I’m just a little ramped up and not exactly of the joyful sort. I have found that the last couple of days I’ve been getting worked up pretty easily. As I look from the inside out and evaluate myself, I realize I’m just overreacting. I’m just trying to figure out why that is just so second nature of me. I’ve been a pretty intense person since I can remember. My Mom recently told me about how when I was a little over a year old (about Abby’s age), I would do the throw-yourself-on-the-floor tantrums. Growing up, I always wanted just that one close friend and was always on the lookout for her. I had that best friend just about every year, but found my high school years to be a bit more challenging in the best friend department. I think that people were just overwhelmed with me. When I was your friend, I was your friend all the way – no holds barred and I think I just scared people away. Because of the experiences I had with people rejecting me through the years or not completely opening up to me, I got kinda choosy with my friends and that is where I am today…a little wary, a bit cautious, making sure I don’t bowl people over with me, me, me!!! (Ask my sisters about this. They put up with it because they have to! Love you both!) I’m a bit intense, you see, but have found ways over the years to reserve the total freak outs for situations that require them. But every-once-in-awhile I regress. Today was one of those days. Every little thing just put me (mentally) over the edge until I could feel my heart just pounding in my chest. “What the heck is going on here?” is all I could think. I start to pray…I realize it comes back to fear…fear of a situation, a memory, an unlikely possibility. You see, fear is what paralyzes me, what paralyzes all of us. Today it manifest in me in panic – a sense of being off kilter. I think of each situation and one-by-one I pray them off – handing each one to God. My heart rate slows down, the panic leaves. Now I can breathe and welcome the joy. I re-read yesterday’s post – I return to this center. Oh what a challenging theme I’ve chosen! What is your theme / resolution for this year? What keeps you centered?

2011-01-12T21:18:00.006-05:00

Joy – Only Joy So, I’ve already told y’all that I don’t do New Year’s resolutions and that is true. But I’ve been recently inspired by some of my favorite bloggers to name this year. To them, naming the year is a theme or inspiration, focus or center for what the year means to them. To be honest, I read their posts resisting the idea – I’m not one to follow the crowd on anything. But I felt like I needed to pray about it…to ponder if I should do this. Recent events for me have been extremely difficult and here I am not so long after it all happened and I find myself overwhelmed…overwhelmed with the joys of this life. I spent a couple of hours yesterday with just Kayla. This child has a light in her that overwhelms me. She can talk for hours (literally) about a new idea that excites her – building her own sleigh (“Tell Daddy I need the leaf blower for the sleigh”), to a new stuffed animal and all about who the animal is, who her friends are and what she likes to do. As I sat there with her drinking coffee (she – a smoothie) and eating a treat, I was overcome with joy. Joy that can only come from this place deep inside me. How fitting that her name is Kayla Joy – which together means “pure joy”. The next day, I’m on the way to work – passing by views of what should sadden me, worry me, concern me…but they don’t. Happiness comes from the outside, from what happens to us. But joy, no - joy comes from somewhere else – from the spirit. Last month, I wrote the post Winter Wonderland – about finding joy in the dark days. I included James 1:2-3 which says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” Trials should not shake our joy…they may temporarily delay it, but our joy comes from our spirit – from God. As I’ve been praying about a word for this year, many words came to mind – gratitude, giving, contentment…but all of those things naturally flow from joy. Joy is where I must begin. Joy when my children are laughing and playing…joy when they are screaming and crying…joy when I’m ridiculed and talked about…joy when I’m honored. Joy, only joy, only joy. My daughter’s middle name, the shorter form of my mother’s name, the source of hope and perseverance. So here it is – this year…JOY – this is where I will return, where I center myself, where I remember why I’m here.

2011-01-11T17:18:00.002-05:00

Two Days Lost Sorry for my temporary absence here. It seems we have succumbed to the stomach bug going around these parts…first Jerry, then me, than Kayla. I’m praying that Zach and Abby don’t get it and truly believe that they won’t. Please support me in praying for them and not talking anything otherwise into existence. (I believe words have power – a post for another day.) So here it is two days later and I’m in a fog…not quite 100% and not quite sure what I should be doing. Not well enough to go to work, not sick enough to be in bed…sure that I need to take it easy, not sure I am making the right decisions about anything. Sickness has a way of making you feel that things won’t ever truly be right…each day passes slowly and deliberately and you count the hours on the clock praying that it will be over yet not really believing that it will ever end. Yet it does and if you are like me, you wonder where those days went…it is as if they are lost in oblivion. I suppose in some ways they are lost. I don’t get sick very often, but when I do it seems to help me put things into perspective – it makes me thankful. I’m thankful that Zach and Abby are fine. I’m thankful for a warm, comfy bed to recover in. I’m thankful that we all slept peacefully last night. I’m thankful for my soft couch to rest my achy bones on. I’m thankful for the quiet. And strangely enough I’m thankful that I haven’t wanted to eat much the last few days. It makes me think that the raging headache I had wasn’t part of the illness but a serious sugar / carbohydrate withdrawal…which of course makes me think that I have a problem to address. I do, but that is something to write about on another day. For now, I’m just quiet…trying not to move too much…resting, eating sparingly, making sure Kayla is taken care of and just trying to become strong again. Maybe these two days aren’t a loss, but a hard dose of perspective…something I needed. Just one more thing to be thankful for.

2011-01-08T21:47:00.003-05:00

Crisp and Cold The decorations are down, the lights are dark, the pine needles vacuumed away…my living room is shadowy and empty. It’s amazing how a month of red, shiny, glowing items can transform a room – bring so much cheer and then suddenly be swept away as if it were never here. Taking down the decorations each year for me takes some kind of herculean effort that I seem to muster up at odd hours of the night (finished the clean up at 1:30am). I had been avoiding it for hours, but after awhile, I just knew it was time to face it. The next day, the kids have the worst morning on record…there is crying, screaming, resistance on every level…Kayla wants to go back to bed, Zachary wants to know where the tree went, Abby keeps pointing to the empty corner with an odd look on her face. (If you heard great wailing wherever you were this morning, I guarantee that was the sound of my children mourning this great loss.) It’s so hard to move on after Christmas…it’s as if the whole year crescendos at that moment. And even though we don’t really recognize it or acknowledge the build up through the year – it seems to be there silently pushing us on. But today, there is no build up; it is quiet and stark. It snowed here today…a silent, steady, fluffy, flaky cloud of white. As I walked outside, I stopped for a moment. I’m always in awe of the ultra quietness of a snowstorm. It’s as if the whole world is sleeping…hibernating…waiting. Waiting for next Christmas, for the rebirth, for the next celebration. Yet for me, it all seems too far away to begin any countdown. I go home, look around my house…the holiday clutter is gone – everything is crisp, clean, cold. I’m at peace here – I don’t know what will happen next, I don’t know what direction I will take, I don’t know what to look forward to…so maybe I just need to look up instead. He’s been waiting, I’m sure.

2011-01-07T22:48:00.006-05:00

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 4 (Take a look at Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.) So where do I go from here? How do I move on from this? I go back to work. I look down to the parking lot – I feel peace, I am not afraid. I try to help others that are hurting…I share the vision with some. I will never understand why…why this happened, why I was meant to see it, why I was there. But in some small way I hope that God has put me there to make a difference. I don’t think I fully know what that is yet. I’m not perfect and sometimes when I look at this world I am afraid…it is dark and cold these days and the pain of losing my friend is almost too much to bear. But that fear and pain cannot win, cannot steal my joy, cannot rule my life. I see the sun rise – its golden beams reflecting off the nearby glass. I face it, let it light up my face… Time slips away…its healing waters drifting by… In this early January, I yearn for spring, for the new world of the hope that can be. I will never forget, but I don’t live in that moment, that pain, that horror anymore. I see Jesus, I only see Jesus; thank you Jesus, thank you.

2011-01-06T21:46:00.008-05:00

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 3 (To read Part 1 click here. To Read Part 2, click here.) But then there is Monday night, when it all changed. I call a good friend and plead for his prayers. What happens next is unbelievable…not the big flash in the sky, loud, dramatic unbelievable…but the still, small kind. But isn’t that how God is? A gentleman waiting…just waiting for us. But of course, he was there all along with me. There are so many what ifs about that day. I never, ever, get to work that early and there is no reason I should have been there that early. I had not eaten breakfast – I should have stopped. Had I stopped, I would have been in the parking lot at the time this all happened…There was a least one stray bullet… Another co-worker was late – he would have parked right where it happened and gotten out of his car at the same time. A good friend of the victim cut her finger and walked away from the same view of what happened. Her gentle spirit would have been crushed by the view that I had. All near misses… We are talking – my friend and I and he begins to pray for my memories of this to be healed…for that dark place in my mind to be released. As we were both praying, I see an image of the situation in my head – the place, the circumstances, the people. As I saw this image, I see in my mind’s eye the image splitting in half and Jesus rising up through it. As he rose up, I could hear him in my mind saying, “I control what happens in this place.” He said it over and over and over. I could see him rising up higher and higher and the image crumbling as if it were rocks crumbling. Then all at once it was as if a large flat rock covered the image completely – the whole parking lot and the foundation of the building where I work. Jesus grew larger and larger and his foot covered the spot where the incident occurred. I could see the scar on his foot from the crucifixion. At this point he was taller than the clouds. He said to me, “Jenny, you don’t see this incident anymore. You only see me.” I feel like I have been delivered from something significant. I don’t have that dread that I had just a few minutes ago. The image is there, but it is not a dark spot in my mind. I see Jesus – I see him standing there – I see rock covering that place. I’m in awe of Jesus gift to me, of his healing, of his great love for me and all who I tell of this. Some may think I’m crazy when I tell this, but I don’t care. I will tell it anyway to those that I believe God wants me to tell. Go to Part 4.

2011-01-05T23:17:00.009-05:00

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 2 (To read Part 1, click here.) But it isn’t over yet for me… It is the weekend, I try to function as normal as I can, but I’m angry. The WHY floods my thoughts and my anger rises against this nameless, faceless person. Why choose to make a victim of my friend? But why also make a victim of the rest of us that were witnesses? The rest of us that were nearby when it happened? Then I feel guilt – “How important am I here? What about her family? Their pain must be overwhelming.” I snap at others – my mind racing – the incident replays over and over in my head. I pray more – peace comes over me. I get to Sunday night thinking that I can make it. I can go into work the next day. I wake up on Monday – I just can’t do it, I can’t, I can’t move from this place. Overall, I feel peace, I am not afraid. I no longer feel anger towards the shooter. But this incident does not leave my mind. It replays over and over. I can’t go more than a few minutes without thinking about it. There is a dark place in my mind and heart and nothing will release it. We go somewhere and I am overwhelmed trying to watch people around us. “Why did this person do that? That one over there? Are they too close to us?” I don’t trust this world anymore. It is ugly, dark, harsh, not where I belong, not how things should be. But then there is Monday night, when it all changed. Go to Part 3.

2011-01-04T23:35:00.004-05:00

Looking at the World with New Eyes – Part 1 I’m looking at the world with new eyes and it’s not what I want to do. I want to look around me in trust and peace and with the general idea that there are good things out there, good people, but something is in the way. Something has happened, you see, something that makes it all different. A couple of weeks ago, I witnessed a horrible tragedy – my co-worker and friend brutally attacked – injuries that a day and a ½ later would end her life. I was looking down from the 2nd floor of the building where I work watching it happening, calling 911, trying to comprehend what I had just witnessed. It was awful, horrible, shocking, senseless, baseless, wrong on every level. I remember thinking in that split second before my mind allowed me to act, “I can’t believe what I’m seeing right now – why am I seeing this? Why do I have to witness this?” The next couple of hours are a blur – she is taken away alive (miraculously), the shooter captured, people all around me acting heroically – demonstrating the good that we humans have in each one of us. I tell the authorities what I know, I go home. I sit at the kitchen table, crouched over, my eyes wide – my senses numb. I try to eat breakfast – everything is tasteless, dull, sawdust. Jerry is home with the kids that day – they are trying to talk to me and hug me and I just can’t move. I am frozen… I cry at the horror, the pain, at the fear of not understanding or knowing what happens next. I hear a loud sound, I jump – “What was that,” I croak? Just one of the kids jumping off the couch. Each email chime from my phone is a lifeline of information…it was not a random act. A relief in some ways to know, but then the questions rise up in me like a flood…WHY? Yet I know that no answer or reason will ever make sense to me – ever. I stay home, I lay down, I close my eyes, but I don’t sleep. I pray. I feel His peace come over me. I know that others are praying for me – I know that I must pray for my friend. I know that deep down, she won’t make it. I don’t accept that as an answer. I pray for her soul. She dies late the next night. But it isn’t over yet for me… Go to Part 2.

2011-01-04T01:00:00.004-05:00

Not Doing All around me I see activity – change, changes, changing…but here I sit in the not doing. You see, I’m not doing those things that many of you are doing…oh, don’t get me wrong – I’m not here to judge. Those things you are doing are all well and good – for you – but for me, I need to live in the not doing for just a big longer. I’m not doing resolutions… I’m not doing un-decorating… I’m not doing the calendars and lists for the weeks and months ahead… I’m not doing tomorrow and pondering what it will bring… I’m not doing that hoping or pining for another day… I’m not doing the post on that recent tragedy… You see, if I don’t do those things, I don’t have to move on from the past, the celebrations, the pain, the here and now…and I need to be here, right here, for just a little longer. I need to look at what is in front of me – those sweet little faces, my quiet husband holding my hand, recent laughter with family, today’s date on the calendar, the hands on the clock, the fear that threatens to overshadow me, the pain that I can only handle spoonfuls of at a time. I need to focus on now…just right now and breathe and take it all in. Tomorrow is practically here and with that I will find my resolve to face these things… But for now, I’m not doing it. I’m not doing it.

2010-12-29T00:28:00.004-05:00

Community is What You Make It I have been very reflective lately – this is such a busy time with Christmas and a recent tragedy on my mind. (Sorry, I’m not ready to discuss it here yet.) In times like this you rely on people close to you to celebrate and also process tough experiences. We have lived in our neighborhood for 7 years and for some reason, it has been incredibly difficult to meet people. Most people on our quiet street are, well, quiet and are not out that much. If they are out it always seems to be on off times from when we are out. The people we have met have been nice, but we have not formed any close friendships – something that has been frustrating to me for a long time. But look at the title of this post – community is what you make it and well, I just didn’t realize how important that was for me here in my quiet corner of the world and for a friend I recently said good bye to. For me – being with family and getting to know the people that are close are very important to me, but I have not made the effort probably in both camps to really foster the community I’ve been craving. My friend, on the other hand, made her mark, built her community and at her memorial a diverse group of people paid their respects. It was something to see and something I will never forget. My 5 year old daughter, Kayla, said last week, “Mommy, Daddy, I want to give a candy cane to everyone on our street for Christmas.” Brilliant! Jerry secured the candy canes and a few days later Kayla and I spent 1 hour and 15 minutes handing out candy canes. We met nearly every one of our neighbors. I can’t believe that she figured out how to solve this 7 year problem I’ve had with such a simple gesture. I believe this is the start of something big – a tradition – a means of reaching out. I’m not really sure what yet. All I know is that I’m in awe of this sweet girl and the impact she is having on me and my idea of what community is. So as the holiday season is ending, keep that sense of community and common goals and purpose alive with your neighbors, friends, and family. Reach out, pay attention, find ways to care and communicate. It could be the start of something big for you also.

2010-12-20T23:00:00.002-05:00

Purpose It has been exceptionally windy and cold the last few days – even unusual for our area. One day I was looking out the window watching the trees and snow blow to and fro and my eyes caught a leaf. Now seeing a leaf in December means a brown, crinkled, sad excuse for a piece of vegetation. This leaf had definitely seen better days. But what caught my eye was how it was blowing – in a circle – round and round and up and down. This seemed to go on for minutes – longer than you would expect for something like this. It was as if it was trying to tell me something as I quietly watched and pondered. And then it finally struck me – this leaf was living out its last purpose - to blow around and around and go on its way to most likely, its final destination. And it was as if it was actually enjoying the journey. How simple is that lesson for us? For many years I moved so fast – I multi tasked in the car (not while driving), I felt as though I had to read a certain number of books and do certain activities even while on vacation. I rarely sat down to watch a movie without doing needlepoint or folding laundry or some other task at the same time. I was at a breakneck pace and not going anywhere. I don’t remember where it all changed for me – I know it was definitely a process – a slow one. Ironically at my busiest time, which I believe to be now, I actually make an effort to relax more now than ever before. I’m really starting to enjoy this journey – I’m working hard at seeing the world through my children’s eyes – listening to the creative stories of my 5 year old, the wacky humor of my (almost) 3 year old, the sweet innocence of my 1 year old. I’m no longer moving so fast, I’m no longer striving for treasures that have no value in heaven, I’m no longer stressing about the state of my house (OK, annoyed at times, but definitely not stressed). I’m starting to see that the purpose for which God created for me is what I’m finally starting to live – and it feels so good, so right, and so peaceful at the core of my being. I have more work to do, that is for sure and I will never be perfect, but I’m so thankful that I’ve opened my heart to this possibility – to be the woman that God created me to be.

2010-12-12T23:31:00.003-05:00

Winter Wonderland Our first big snow came down last night. I’m not a big fan of winter really, but I love the first snow fall as it always seems to coat everything perfectly in a sparkling white blanket. I marvel at each covered bush, tree, and field. It seems as if I’m in a different world. I also love the soft glow of Christmas lights under the snow. I’m looking out there loving the snow – something that isn’t always true for me. But I’m sure another day will come in the near future where I won’t love the snow. The days will seem darker, the snow – harsher. I’ll look outside and groan and wish for it all to be gone. It’s interesting that the same exact phenomenon can occur and we can react so differently to it. But maybe I won’t do that…maybe I won’t groan. And the only reason that can happen is that somehow I change on the inside. Isn’t that how life is anyway? Things happen and we are tempted to react, to become emotional, to let our feelings rule our lives. But do we really need to do that? James 1:2-3 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” Pure joy during trials? Well, that is not an emotional response – it is a faith response. So wherever you are and whatever you are going through, look out your front window and choose a faith response today.

2010-12-07T21:07:00.004-05:00

Love Washes Over Me The last couple of weeks have been out of the norm for us. Our daycare is closed temporarily necessitating either Jerry or I to be home with the kids. It has been two years since I have been able to be home with all of the kids for whole days at a time on a regular basis. While this time together has not been 100% easy, I’m very thankful to have it and to relearn who these awesome little people are in my life. So many of my friends and relatives have been sharing their words of gratitude for their families and their situations (even if not ideal) the last couple of days. It has really got me thinking about where I am in the chaos of this time where I’m half at home and half at work and the brilliance of God’s divine wisdom for us. It makes me think of my youngest sister – tiny-less-than-two-weeks-old-baby in her arms – working through these first two survival weeks and yet she is thankful for all stages of parenting. And I remember that stage – just a year ago – so fresh in my mind. The bone crushing fatigue, the irrational moments of truly believing that I cannot go on, the crying, the endless diapers, the questioning of my own sanity. It’s as fresh in my mind as a raw wound and my heart aches. I think of my older children – of sleepless nights, of them puking, bleeding, spitting, and smearing snot on me. I think of those absolutely heart wrenching and heart breaking moments and I am in awe of where I am. In the early days of being a new mom, I remember being angry – not at my child, but at how different things were and how I just couldn’t get a handle on all these changes and constant, new experiences every moment – everyday. It was hard to deal with that anger, but I knew I had to let it go. I think to an exceptionally bad night with my youngest and I remember saying to her as she was screaming and crying, “I don’t care what it takes, but I will not leave you alone tonight – if that means being up all night.” When I felt that I was at the lowest point I could be, an overwhelming wave of love engulfed me and I held on to her tightly. And even though I felt as if every bone in my body would break, I held her nearly all night. As I remember that night, I’m so thankful for how far I have come. This inexplicable love that came over me that night (and countless other times in this journey of parenthood) is nothing that I could manufacture or conjure up or borrow – it was, and still is divine. It has occurred to me many times that this is just but a small glimpse of God’s love for us. How overwhelming it must be for Him to watch us even in our lowest and most flawed states and still feel that intense and never ending love for us. I’m thankful that God has given me this divine love for my children. I pray that you find that quiet moment in your own parenting chaos to welcome His love for you and pass it on to your little ones.

2010-12-01T21:44:00.005-05:00

It’s a Different Kind of Warmth This time of year in the upper Midwest we usually welcome the first real snow fall. This is the one that makes a serious effort to fill the sky and attempt, sometimes successfully, to actually cover the ground. Today was that day. As I watched the clumps of fluffy flakes fall, I thought about how cold - on a day like today - makes you want to be warm. It’s a different kind of warmth, though. Not the same kind you welcome on a sunny, summer day. Not the kind that warms your face just enough in the spring, but warmth that you welcome and seek out by what you do. We light a wood burning fire to feel the warmth and smell the smoky wood and hear the crackling pops. We make coffee to feel the warmth in our hands and the sensation of it slowly inching down our throats until we feel it spread throughout our bodies. It’s the warm, thick potato cheese soup that you eat faster and faster until you burn your tongue and suddenly it’s as if your whole body is suddenly on fire and you start to sweat a little bit. It’s the warmth of a single jar candle that has been burning all day. The temperature on the thermostat may be no different, but I’m convinced that candle – maybe just the smell of it – has warmed the house. It’s the warmth of family and friends, close to us – maybe physically close or close in our hearts. It’s this thing we do – we seek warmth, but it’s a different kind. So those of you who don’t like winter (and trust me I can identify) because of the cold, snow, and dark days – take a break from what you see and light a candle, a fire, put on a snuggly blanket, hug your children, snuggle with your spouse and focus on the warmth that you feel – close your eyes – shut out the darkness and choose this different kind of warmth. It will warm and light up your heart.

2010-11-23T00:27:00.004-05:00

Three Jewels

I stare at my right hand, ring finger at the 3 little jewels in this band of gold. You can catch me doing this every once in awhile – studying the stones. I love jewelry like any other woman does, but this isn’t why I’m staring…why I’m taking in the colors, the shimmer, the uniqueness of each stone. No, these stones represent my children – this is my mother’s ring. Jerry insisted that I get this ring and of course, I’m all for new jewelry so I agreed. When it came in, I almost didn’t like it – sad but true. The stones didn’t fit together, the white gold made my finger look pasty, I couldn’t get used to the order I had chosen for the stones. I didn’t know what finger to wear it on…blah, blah, blah. (You are probably starting to understand that I’m picky and almost OCD about certain things.) After a few months of wearing it, I decided that the emerald just didn’t look right in the setting – it seemed off center. The jeweler agreed and 4 weeks later (after having to replace the emerald 2 times) I ended up with a ring that fit better, looked better, and actually was worth more. This emerald was now a natural emerald instead of lab created – and it sparkled.

And so I stared more intently…I was in awe of how different the ring was – but was it really? Or was I different? These lifeless stones now meant something to me. Each stone representing a child – so precious, unique and irreplaceable.

A deep emerald with inclusions that months after wearing it – I still discover something new. The emerald is my Kayla – and isn’t that true of her? There are layers to this child that I never stop discovering. She makes me laugh, cry, and just love her more because of the unique, intense little girl that she is.

Amethyst for Zach – my zany one. All boy – loud, fast, and multifaceted. He runs laps one second and then climbs in my arms, kissing me and saying he loves me the next. So what I need.

Citrine for Abby – shiny and bright – this stone stands out from the rest. Not because she is better than the other kids, but because she was the gift I didn’t know I needed in my life. Her laugh is contagious, boisterous and I’ll never forget the complete surprise I felt the first time I heard it. She may be little, but she always makes sure her voice is heard.

These 3 little jewels in this twisted metal – tarnished and scratched – gleaming, sparkling, always catching my eye. Reminding me that the gift of these children God gave me not once, not twice, but three times. I am in awe that he would choose me to parent these children.

Oh - I mess up, I yell, I’m impatient, I will never be perfect – yet God still chose me for them. So I keep looking and marveling over these wonderful gifts. And as I admire I thank you, Father for choosing me.

2010-11-17T23:09:00.005-05:00

Traditions With the holidays right around the corner, this time of year is ripe with traditions of all kinds. While there are the “biggies” – the turkey at Thanksgiving and the tree for Christmas, there are many small traditions this time of year that just warm my heart. Even though we are in a large metro area, the town next to us has a small town feel to it with a park in the city center. Every year they put up a lit Menorah, lights on the big pine tree, play Christmas music, and put up a near life size nativity set. What is so great about this nativity set is that they have a set of wise men that travel through the park to see baby Jesus. The set went up yesterday and as they are every year, the wise men are set far back in the park away from the nativity set. Every week or so they travel to see the baby Jesus. Our kids love this – we drive past the park every few days to see if the “wise guys” have moved. This is such a simple thing that me makes me happy deep inside.

Some other simple traditions we love:

Enjoying a warm, wood burning fire and watching the parade on Thanksgiving day. That last few years it has snowed the day before Thanksgiving. There is nothing like coming inside from the cold to the warmth of family and friends in front of a fire.
Cutting down our Christmas tree on a farm. We always do this the first weekend in December. Some years it has been sunny and 40 degrees. One year it was 20 degrees and a blizzard. We take the kids and they help pick the tree. One year, Kayla ate icicles the whole time.
Eating the largest cheese pizza we can find as our Christmas Eve dinner with wine of course. The last few years we’ve had a 24 inch pizza that barely fits on the table. The local pizza place we go to knows us and our tradition which for some reason makes it more special.
Arranging a snack and cookie fest on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. This tradition has evolved over the years. It started at my parent’s house where we would cook appetizers and cookies and load up the table. We went to church on Christmas Eve and then we came back and ate and opened presents and stayed up until obnoxious hours of the morning. Nowadays we usually hold the feast on Christmas Day in the afternoon where Jerry’s family (and whoever else is in town from my family) comes over and we graze all day.

What simple traditions are you looking forward to this season?

2010-11-16T20:42:00.006-05:00

One Year Ago One year ago, I was a mama in waiting – waiting the birth of our third child – Abigail Anne. I was tired and frustrated and my heart – oh my heart, was not right. I complained. I was large and slow moving (as you other mamas know about this stage). I would sweat on relatively cool days. I was on a strict diet, frustrated by work and generally just ready for it all to be over. But something started to change at this time – my heart began to soften. Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away – a holiday that was relatively quiet to me growing up had really become one of my favorites as an adult. We started hosting Thanksgiving almost by accident when we first moved into our house. Something about a house full of people, warm and cozy with delicious food was really appealing to me. But not that Thanksgiving – we could not host it because we did not know when Abby would be born. Several months before when we found out we were pregnant with Abby – I remember being shocked and then humbled by God’s plan for us. We weren’t sure about having a 3rd child, but in my heart, I wanted Kayla to have a sister. God intervened and there we were. But my heart wasn’t open. I complained, I was in disbelief. I was happy, but tired from being either pregnant or nursing for the previous two years before. I grumbled, I was discontent. About 10 weeks before Abby was due, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes – my frustration turned to anger. “Why? This shouldn’t be happening”, was all I could think. But then there was Thanksgiving…that quiet day with no extended family – just the 4 of us. We cooked, we napped, we ate…and I began to reflect. I read my pregnancy journal that night. I was shocked at how grumpy I had been all those months. I looked at Jerry and said, “Wow, I really just complained this whole pregnancy.” He looked at me and said, “Yes, you did.” I put the journal away, filled with heaviness. “Forgive me, Father”, I whispered. “Who am I to be discontent with this wonderful gift?” I started shaking almost immediately – the first contraction came minutes later. Two and half hours later, Abby was born – the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. One year ago, gratitude and grace changed me. I’m so thankful for that quiet Thanksgiving, for this sweet, almost 1 year old baby girl, for God who was so bold to give me what I didn’t know I needed to have. It’s never too late – never too late to let His grace wash over you and change you. Move your heart to gratitude these next couple of weeks. Stop the complaining and begin thanking him for something even as simple as the sunshine or the warm coffee in your hand. The softening of your heart will change you forever.

2009-08-26T21:59:00.005-04:00

Four Months I know - it really has been four months since I've blogged - maybe none of you are left and I completely understand. Maybe you will come around again or maybe I will pop up in your reader and maybe, just maybe, you will trust that I will write again - frequently...or at least periodically. Explaining my silence may seem odd, so instead of trying to explain, I will just give you the update. And since we are old friends, you will forgive me for the silence and be happy to catch up and we will all happily move on. I'm expecting Baby Powell v3.0 on November 28th. She is a girl and quite an active little one. Kayla is excited to share her room (she doesn't know what she signed up for!) and as my belly grows Zachary just seems to have a knowing way about him. I point at my belly and say, "Baby." He hugs and takes care of one of Kayla's dolls which is encouraging (except for the day he threw her across the room). I am still in awe of God's plan for this baby. After I had Zachary I remember saying to God, "you are really going to have to talk me into having another baby." When the pregnancy test registered that little plus sign (a week after a false negative result), my jaw dropped and I covered my mouth and the tears started. Jerry's knowing smile made me realize that this was for real and this is exactly what we were meant to do. Our baby's name (will publish here after she is born) means "the grace and joy of my Father." I believe that God in his joy has given us this little girl. I'm excited to see what she will be like. Thanks for reading.

2009-03-21T15:48:00.005-04:00

The Calm After the Storm I have to confess - I love big events - weddings, graduations, baby showers, and any kind of big party you can imagine. I love the planning, the coordination, the gifts, the outfits, the mental planning, the build up, and the event itself. I love doing something different and "once in a lifetime" every once in awhile. What is hard to deal with is the calm after the storm. I can't help but be a little sad once it is all over - even if the event was not centered around me - even if I was just someone in attendance. It seems that all of that planning should yield a bigger return. It is as if the event should live on just a little bit longer - a little piece each day until it fades away. I have recently discovered that Kayla is the same way. Of course at 3 1/2 she can just cry those sad feelings away. I on the other hand can't get away with that. Furthermore, I need to help her stay up, help her cheer up, help her look to the next, fun thing. There are always memories and pictures and new, fun clothes to wear again, but somehow things aren't the same in this eerie calm. Over the years I've learned how to live in the moment a little bit more, but the only way to get through this deafening calm is to look forward. Or maybe it is simpler than that - I can lose myself in the daily joys around me - Zachary's toothy grin, Kayla's infectious laugh, Jerry's icy blue eyes. Yes, that is where I can live - in the calm before the next storm.

2009-03-16T22:29:00.004-04:00

Divine Peace Peace - everyone talks about it - few know how to practice it - including whole nations. So many of us are seeking this peace - peace and quiet, peaceful sleep, peace at home, peace at work. How do we get that peace? Where do we search, what method do we use to achieve peace in this mile-a-minute life? I feel most peaceful when I'm listening to music - mostly Christian music, but not always. A song moves me as waves of music wash over my soul. This is the only way to describe it. It is typically not singing that affects me, but a guitar rhythm usually - a sound that speaks to my spirit directly - almost transcending thought. I can't help but close my eyes and move to the music embracing that divine peace. As a whole we don't take time to be still, to meditate on what God has done for us - to listen to his voice. Find your space, your time, your music to allow God to speak to you in a supernatural way.

2009-03-15T00:23:00.004-04:00

Still Awake I'm still awake tonight...as I am many nights about this time. It seems that the normal times that others subscribe to do not fit my lifestyle - or maybe there is something else going on. I have small children as many of you know and when they are finally at peace and asleep I feel as though I can have that bit of fun in the evening that is impossible to do when they are awake. The dilemma is that I lose track of time or just frankly ignore it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'm an obnoxious night owl - to the irrational degree. Only because I think I can get away with it - until morning when the first kid wakes up. I guess I could rationalize that I don't want to be one of those people who has literally "slept half of their life away." But maybe I'm just doing too good of a job here. If I figured out on average how many hours of sleep I get a night since the kids were born it would probably be about 5 hours a night. I'm amazed at times that I can still function, but apparently I've adapted. Bottom line, I'm still awake tonight and I don't know how much longer it will be. Anyone out there identify?

2009-03-12T23:37:00.002-04:00

More Than Enough I think it is human nature to go through periods of perceived inadequacy. Maybe there is always a sense of that in your life at all times. Maybe the situations or events change, but there is that element of disconcerting instability - the question that lingers in the background, "do they know that I have no idea what I'm doing?" I seem to get on the merry-go-round of inadequacy that rotates every few days. It usually starts with a bad encounter with one of the kids making me doubt if I am a good mother. Next, something happens at work to make me question why I am in the position I'm in. Lastly it just becomes almost dumb luck - I can't seem to do the dishes without breaking things. The dinner I'm attempting just doesn't quite turn out right. (Side note - I'll never forget the dinner I made that Kayla took one look at and started crying. It is funny to think of that now!) A line in a song reminds me that this doubt, fear, anxiety about the roles we play in life are all lies. "We are who we are and it's more than enough." Let me say it again, "more than enough." We've been equipped by God for these relationships and roles that we play and he has provided us with more than enough to be successful as long as we rely on him for all things. It reminds me that I daily have to take the burdens off my back and virtually hand them to God or I can't make it. Before you sleep tonight, make a list of the burdens that plague your mind in one column. In the other column dare to spell out what God says about those burdens. Spend time in prayer handing those things to God. God's peace is waiting - don't put it off.

2009-03-09T00:17:00.006-04:00

A Simple Revelation I fancy myself a baker. I love to bake just about anything, but I love and adore baking (and eating) cookies of all kinds. My favorite is classic chocolate chip cookies. My ccc's are slightly crispy and chewy but never crunchy or hard. I have a few secret techniques I use (passed down from my Mom) and have been making said cookies since I can remember. My basic recipe is from the Toll House morsel package (plus the secret techniques I just mentioned). I was reviewing the usual list of ingredients and steps when it dawned on me that I have never - I mean not even once - cooked these cookies at the right temperature. I have always cooked them at 350 degrees and the recipe calls for 375 degrees. I was pretty floored by this simple revelation. How could I have done it wrong the whole time? Have I ever used the right temperature? I don't really know, but I do know that I have never seen the numbers 375 jump off the page as they did today. I couldn't help but take this revelation further - how many other things do I think I know and believe, but don't really have it right? Have I really done the homework I should to ensure that I have all the facts and am making decisions based on those facts? I've been smacked with the constant search and review of the facts the last few weeks. Just when I think I know what is going on with a given situation and maybe have even reacted badly (in my mind, thankfully not towards other people involved) I realized that I needed to review the situation further, check all my bases, make sure the temperature was correct and set it accordingly. Thank God I've done this - life could be much harder than it is right now if I had not. The next time you think you know and have evaluated a situation, ask yourself - do I really know the facts? Have I analyzed this from every angle? Take the time to check into things further - you may be surprised by the simple or even the complex revelation you encounter.

2009-02-24T22:58:00.006-05:00

Streams of Consciousness Today was one of those days when the thought processes were so random, they were worth capturing to reflect on the past, present, and future and those burning questions of life. Random Thought #1 - Have you ever had a memory repeat over and over in your head - but one so random and common and meaningless? I keep pondering that there must be a reason - a purpose for revisiting that time, but part of me is afraid to go there. What great mysteries of life am I supposed to learn? Random Thought #2 - Surely there must be a way to stop the time, space continuum so I really can get the laundry, dishes, and prep for the next day complete all while reading a book, crosstiching, Facebooking, and scrap booking. If anyone has found this wrinkle in time, please let me know. Until then, I will continue to hope and believe and go to bed at 1:30am. Random Thought #3 - If I'm not supposed to value material things in this life, why is it so darn hard to pack it all up, contact the charity and get it out the door? Yet, when that process is started (not even completed!) life feels so new and fresh. I hope to live up to this ideal of simplifying and cutting back the clutter that distracts me. Random Thought #4 - If these baby and toddler years are times that I should cherish, why am I too tired to record the happenings of these times? It would be nice to remember coming home to a house of dancing and singing kids and readily joining in to shake the stress of the day. But will I remember that in 5 years? Or will it only be an impression, a tiny, positive murmur in my mind? That seems so sad - to not fully capture a memory like that. Yet, what is the best way? Random Thought #5 - If this is a place for me to capture my ponderings...why do I spend so little time here? Do I fail to ponder or are my ponderings buried under the daily grind? I suppose it is a choice to embrace and reflect or let it slip away. So maybe I had a theme here - sort of. My random thoughts all point to getting back to basics, to simplifying life, embracing memories past and present, living for today, and reflecting on the gifts of life. From here on, I will embrace and reflect more and hopefully make it worth your while to visit my little corner of cyberspace.

2009-02-12T22:24:00.006-05:00

Unconditional This post has been rolling around in my head for at least a week and I fear is one of the more difficult things for me to write about. I'm sure we all aspire to love those around us with no strings attached, but rarely succeed. What does it mean to truly love another person unconditionally? I think of Kayla and Zachary when I think about how I learned about love. I think of them so tiny and helpless - relying on me for everything and especially in those early months - relying on me as the food source. Breastfeeding both kids was a challenge, but one I'm glad that I accepted and carried through. I remember rocking Kayla to sleep one night when it just hit me like a ton of bricks how much I loved her and how I would do anything for her - radical, scary, illegal things to protect her and hold her close to me. I also remember the day I realized that all of this nurturing and caring for her was ever slowly preparing her to leave me. That thought was almost too much to bear. I'm thankful that she is still a little girl and I don't have to consider that possibility in the short term. My love for Kayla was so strong I could not figure out how I could love another child and yet when Zachary was born I was overwhelmed with devotion to this little boy. He was a calm little guy who cooed in his sleep. He smiled for the first time when he was only 10 days old - on Valentine's Day of all days. There were always challenges along the way and as you know - that euphoria of love is not always present. As they both have grown, the everyday gets in the way of this pure devotion. I find myself irritated, annoyed, I roll my eyes, I get angry, I yell, avoid, and otherwise behave badly. Guilt sets in...I ponder if I have permanently damaged my relationship with them. The next day dawns and Zachary's smile lights up my world. Kayla tells me she loves me. I realize that the core element to this love - this incomprehensible gift of unconditional love - is forgiveness. Always starting over, always giving the benefit of the doubt, always doing the right thing without keeping record of wrongs. I'm humbled that God chose me to be a mother to such wonderful children. And I realize that this overwhelming, heart-stopping, breathtaking love is only a tiny glimpse of how God feels about me, his child.

2009-01-31T00:22:00.009-05:00

Add to the Beauty Yes...this is the title of another song by Sara Groves (I'm definitely stuck on her these days). I would say this is the last in my series of posts on songs, but I'm sure I'll sneak some others in at a later time. When it seems life is dull, dark and otherwise dim, I am often surprised at the beauty that suddenly surrounds me when I look outside. This week has been a complete disaster rife with late nights at work, cranky kids, and more work until the wee hours. Now that it is Friday I just felt like a kid about to to go on summer vacation leaving work today (earlier than I have in probably the last month). (Side note: I'm not sure how I could consider summer vacation today considering the fact that the average temperature today was about 20 degrees and there is about 2 feet of snow on the ground and has been for the past 3 weeks or so, but I digress.) As I entered the rat race (aka I-275 South) I looked to the west and 1. was surprised that it was still light at 5:30pm in January and 2. squinted from the hazy colors in my view. Could it be - the sun??? Yes, indeed - one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've experienced in a long time. Orange, yellow, and red watercolors swirling around that fiery ball. "Whew hew!" is all I could think. In the midst of all of the chaos this week I've been pondering what I'm adding to eternity...to the legacy of this physical experience of living. In the words of the song that inspired this post - "I want to add to the beauty, to tell a better story... I want to shine with the light, that's burning up inside." That light that brightened my afternoon - a gift from God - reminds me that the light we hold inside is what lasts through these dark days. "It comes in small inspirations It brings redemption to life and work To our lives and our work It comes in loving community It comes in helping a soul find it's worth. Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces, calling out the best of who we are." That idea of redemption of our lives and work - thank God for that! I need redemption everywhere these days and here is where I ask you...what is the best of who you are? The best of who you are is the way you love, care, nurture, hold, honor, respect, serve, and pray for people. But most of all - it is the beauty of your true self that seeks to love others at all costs and in all circumstances. "We come with beautiful secrets We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls We come to every new morning With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold" Hold onto the beauty my friends - He is holding onto you.

2009-01-23T23:46:00.012-05:00

Unbalanced That is the best word to describe my life right now and it is darn painful. The stress of learning this new position at work - attempting to find the rhythm and balance between work and home, the different schedule, understanding the authority and commitment to my two lives - it is excruciating. When I'm at work, it's like I don't have any other life. I guess that is how my mind chooses to compartmentalize it. I focus on the needs of my team - I'm always thinking to myself - am I serving them the best way possible? Am I ensuring that someday they will be independent and I'm there to run interference only? That is definitely the goal. The everyday annoyances get in my way - email that doesn't quit, meetings for hours and hours, nitpicking and infighting - or maybe just misunderstandings. I feel joy at their successes, I feel pain when they fail. It is as if they are my children away from home (although they are not child-like in anyway). I care for them and want them to be independent and confident. Home is always a mix of schedules that don't seem to fall where they should, overtired children, overflowing baskets of laundry and counter tops full of dishes. (Did I mention perpetual crumbs on the floor?) The changes are taking a toll - Jerry is tired and at his wits end at the end of the day (I felt that way almost everyday I spent at home with the kids also). He has taken on more than his share of the work and he does not complain - almost to the point that I can feel his pain without him even telling me. I break down, we clear the air. I recommit to my side of the work at whatever cost to keep the balance that we need. It reminds me of another favorite song (and you thought I had veered away from my song theme, eh?) Sara Groves again - "When it Was Over" from the "Add to the Beauty" CD. In this song it is a hidden line buried in a verse that touches me to the core - "There is a hope that whispers a vow, a promise to stay while we're working it out." I'm so grateful that Jerry whispered that vow - that he has promised to stay while I'm working this out. I would never have expected anything less, but I needed that confirmation in the middle of my breakdown. But isn't that how life is anyway? We are always trying to work things out - our lives are always a piece of artwork in progress. We don't really understand what the medium is we are using or what the colors are, but maybe we get a glimpse of that pure love or purpose that God has given us in the hug of a friend, the sincerity of a compliment, the discussion of the spiritual realm. The song's main chorus - "Love wash over a multitude of things, make us whole" reminds us that only love can make us whole. We get a glimpse of that in the love of family, friends, and our spouses. Someday that wholeness - that perfect love of God will be truly known to us. In the meantime, we remain unbalanced and live our days working it out with the promise of that vow - that he is always with us.

2009-01-16T23:44:00.008-05:00

Look for the Holy In the Common Place Well, it appears a theme is emerging for my posts as of late. Something like-I-have-been-severely-music-deprived-and-have-been-listening-to-my-favorite-Cd's-like-crazy-on-the-commute-and-have-somehow-reconnected-with-the-deeper-side-of-my-soul. Or in short, quotes from songs I love. The title of this post is from a Sara Groves song called "Just Showed Up for My Own Life" from "Add to the Beauty". Now the title of the song alone could be a post, but I'll just stick to this line stuck in the middle of the song. Sara talks about not just showing up and going through the motions but truly finding God in everything you do. To me that is best summed up by this simple line: by looking for the holy in the common place. (Yes, I am separating commonplace into two words, only because the lyrics posted on Sara's web site have it spelled out that way and it is a great twist on a familiar term.) It is not commonplace as in a saying, cliche, or reference to boring and undistiguishable, but truly a place that appears common, but has tiny hints of the creator's mark on them. Take some everyday scenes on the commute - snowbanks on every corner, darkness in the morning, the white glow of the moon. Pretty standard stuff - but look a little closer. The snowbanks sparkle more brilliantly than manufactured glitter. The darkness is hiding the deep blue of the daylight intensifying into the red, orange, and yellow of the sunrise. (Winter sunrises are the most crisp and colorful of all times of the year.) The moon ever changing - and as Kayla said every morning this week - "the moon is missing a piece, Mama. Where did it go?" (You tell me how to explain that to a 3 and 1/2 year old.) A wonder to behold - this changing of the moon - at any age. What is your common place? Maybe it is the glow of the computer screen, the sound of screaming children, the crawl of the rat race commute? Take a moment to pause and look around you...marvel at what the creator has given you...he wants you to look for these gifts...his holiness...his perfection. He loves you and is waiting for you to discover him in your common place. Start searching today.

2009-01-09T22:22:00.018-05:00

Am I Singing? I can't help but ask myself this question. I get so sucked into the everyday...the drudgery, the repetition, the predictability of it all. Have I left room for the song...for the song of my soul? Those of you who are parents of young children know that time spent with your spouse or even alone to meditate is nearly impossible to realize. But as your children grow you find that little space for reflection. Maybe it is in the shower...in the car...the few minutes before you fall asleep. For me today, it was in the car. I was listening to one of my favorite bands of all time, U2 - "How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb." I highly recommend anything that U2 has ever done, but especially this CD. Critics of this CD would likely mention the use of Christian themes and images throughout to sell a cheap, emotional experience (or worse, alienate the listener). But I think those critics missed the point. U2 is not borrowing Christian themes and images for fun or because they may promote some pseudo spiritual experience. They truly believe this stuff. There is no way a song like "Yahweh" was written without a knowledge of several portions of scripture and then a personal revelation of what that means to the writer. I am blown away by the depth of each track on this album and how I'm personally changed by the message of this song and several others on the CD. (Sidenote - who doesn't love the Edge's brilliant, unique guitar riffs?) Back to my point - to tell you about one of my favorite parts of the song - "take this soul, stranded in some skin and bones, take this soul and make it sing." I played the song again wondering, pondering, reflecting on this question - is my soul singing? I think that for a better part of the past year my soul was crying and laughing and agonizing and intensely analyzing everything and pondering every part of the emotional spectrum. But singing? Definitely not. But today I realized that this indescribable gift of joy is welling up in me. Joy at my big girl Kayla dancing around our living room...joy at Zachary vibrating because he is standing without help...joy at the knowing, mischievous twinkle in Jerry's eyes. This joy, a gift that only God can give...joy of knowing that his purposes continue to work and flow through me and that he continues to give me hope in all circumstances. Nothing else matters.

2009-01-07T11:50:00.003-05:00

I Don't Do Resolutions... ...but I decided to resolve with my good friend / brother-in-law Kal (check out his Moblog and Kal in Space) to starting writing in the blog more often (detailed goals - a closely guarded secret). So for those of you who are still lurking around (thanks!) look forward to seeing new posts here soon.

2008-08-21T23:57:00.007-04:00

Resisting Sleep So here I am, resisting sleep. It seems like my days are spent focusing on the kids so much and their needs that when they go to sleep, I get my second wind...wide eyed and awake until the wee hours wondering what the heck I'm doing and why the heck I'm doing it. I almost become euphoric thinking about it all. It usually starts when I'm getting Zachary ready for bed and nursing and rocking him to sleep. I start to think, I could find that missing (fill in item here) that I haven't seen in months. I'm convinced it is located (fill in location here). I know I can find it - never mind I've been looking for that same item in the same three locations for 3 months. I could write in my journal, update both kid's baby books, organize pictures, read the five books collecting dust in my night stand, read through the latest Ikea catalog, Pampered Chef catalog, all while randomly flipping through the latest Parents and Parenting magazine. (Seriously, why the heck don't those two magazines just merge? They copy each other's articles every month and you can barely tell them apart on the newsstand...different font doesn't count.) As soon as Zachary is in bed and I've snuggled with Kayla for a few minutes, I step into this Mommy's paradise...NIGHTTIME!!! I fully intend to do the things mentioned above, but I turn on my laptop to innocently check email and suddenly I'm shopping for makeup...I'm learning more about a perfume I just tried on at the store, I'm checking the tracking number on my latest Amazon purchase. An email with it's melodic ding pops up...doesn't matter if it is worth reading or not - I go and read...I remember someone I didn't email back earlier. I send the email...I read my favorite blogs...I lament over the extreme out of dateness of my own blog... I look at the time...12:04am...dishes still waiting, experiment ring in the toilet, clothes quietly crinkling to unmanageable lumps in their baskets, crumbs on the table... The baby monitor quietly coos...a tiny static crackle here and there.. If only morning would not come...or stealthily delay its appearance. Alas, all fun things must come to an end...the shower is calling this tired body.

2008-06-19T10:14:00.004-04:00

Kaylic I'm sure those of you with small children eventually come to know their own native language. Ever since Kayla was old enough to utter sounds she has been making some interesting ones. When she was about 5 months old she started out by growling or heavy breathing as we liked to call it. For awhile she earned the name, "Darth Baby" because of the funny sounds she was making. Most babies coo or razz, Kayla would growl in delight. It was the funniest sound we had ever heard. When she was about 18 months old and starting to say words she would sometimes break into a babble that we dubbed "Kaylic." You could tell she was saying something very serious and she would look at us as if to say, "Why don't you understand these profound things that I'm saying?" Now that Kayla is older (3 years old) and consistently speaks in complete sentences, I thought it would be fun to update you on some of the new words she is saying: Han-gah-ber - hamburger. (I think this is a childhood classic and just about every kid I've known has said this. Love it!) Va-po-ra-tor - vaporizer. Ma-zah-gine - magazine. Ma-gah-log - cross between a magazine and a catalog. I was pretty proud of her for coming up with this one. She also likes to make up words with one of her pals at daycare. One of the words that seems to stick is this: Schwapped - to set down or throw down forcefully. This seems to be the meaning of the word, but she uses it in many different contexts. Such as, "I schwapped down on the couch to watch a movie." Hope you've enjoyed your short lesson in Kaylic.

2008-06-04T15:41:00.000-04:00

The Update So I'm finally getting around to giving y'all the update - sorry for the lateness in responding! I am still getting this frequent blogging thing together. I've been back at work for a month now and things are very slowly coming together (hence my absence). The first day I dropped off Zachary at daycare I was in my car crying...trying to calm down enough to drive. When I finally slowed down, I turned on the radio and the first line of a familiar song played, "It's not the end of the world, it's just another day, standing on grace." I stopped for a moment and listened again and laughed. Oh great, God, you always know what I need. Truly this separation, this change, is not the end of the world, but just another day in a sea of changes. Since then there have been ups and downs. Downs - finding out that Zachary cried a lot and didn't take the bottle for several days at daycare. Ups - finally after three weeks having him happy and cooing and playing at daycare. Downs - not getting much sleep due to the new schedule and both kids waking up on and off. Ups - finding the sweet spot in the schedule and having them both finally sleeping better. I appreciate all of you for your nice comments in previous posts and asking how things were going. From now on I'll try to write more.

2008-05-01T14:04:00.000-04:00

Less Than A Week Only a few more days until I go back to work. I'm trying to process it all - to be practical about the things that need to be done. Paperwork to fill out, things to buy, prayers to be said. But deep down it just hurts. There is no other way to say it. I look at my sweet boy blissfully sleeping and I realize that it is no easier this time than it was with the first...giving up his care to someone else for part of the day. It reminds me of the fact that he is already starting to grow up so to speak, to be separate from me. I guess the day he found his thumb and started sucking it was the beginning of that process. I'm reminded of when Kayla was his age. I was feeding her one day and then rocking her to sleep when it hit me like a ton of bricks. We are constantly preparing our children to be independent enough to one day leave us. What a heart wrenching thought! I'm overwhelmed with those thoughts today. Oh I know, our children will always need us, our love, and prayers, even as adults. (In fact, I'm surprised and yet strangely comforted by how much Kayla, at almost three still wants snuggles and hugs. She may look like a big girl, but she is still a baby inside.) But the truth is that one day they will be on their own. So for the next few days I'll hold my baby boy tight and delight in his smiling face, the smell of his little head, hold onto his tight little fists, and rest in the peaceful quiet of him nursing. Hoping as he grows that he chooses me to hug and kiss him and comfort him no matter how old he is.

2008-04-30T09:43:00.000-04:00

Poetry Jam Megan over at Sorta Crunchy is celebrating the last day of National Poetry Month and I though I would join in the fun. Be sure to check out her favorite poem by clicking here. Here are some of my own poems written over the last few years. I'm not great with naming these things, but have tried to name them something. Coffee Shop Confessions As I sit in my corner vantage point in Waterstreet I see caricatures of reality A snowflake etched in glass A love letter in a handkerchief A copper sun on the ceiling A poet in the corner It quiets as they all leave Serenity pours out of the speakers What seen before me is reality? Everyday Chaos Incessant chatter, word upon word My participation wanes Until I become a catatonic observer Dusk Clearing black sky Clouds floating away The Cheshire cat moon smiling Twinkling light in the distance The crisp night ahead of us To Write Books, books, and more books! How I long to read them all Lose myself in the pages Experience what I don't in life Be happy that I don't have that life! Read about great truths for eternal knowledge Read silliness and laugh Look at pictures and wonder My desire to drink it all in, all the time! To become part of the book, whether truth or fiction But to write a book - So much harder to do But necessary to understand and reflect on life Difficult to express the mundane in the pages To be unleashed, to write at will! Whether it be serious, scholarly or just plain trite. What good is it? What purpose is served? My random thoughts fill this space This page that may hold the complexities of my mind Or the experience of existence. Where am I going? I started out asking this question And know nothing more here. Purple pen gliding over the pages As I listen to the chatter in the cafe Do they know how loud they are? Mixing into a stream of confusion Some voices standing out in random patterns "The trees are pretty," says the father to the daughter "I stopped by and saw it," the loud man on the couch Kitchen topics with my love We are here together We share our thoughts - Our perspective - Our experience My thoughts blend with the din - Rising and falling - Until silent My pen is stopping I've read this randomness and strangely I am happy

2008-04-22T13:43:00.000-04:00

I Had Forgotten I had forgotten the excitement of seeing the first robin of spring... I had forgotten the sweet, heavy scent of rain coming in the distance... I had forgotten the waxy tug on my fingers of the first green leaves pushing through the ground... I had forgotten the wonder of seeing a duck just a few feet away... I had forgotten the cool, damp feeling of grass between my toes... I had forgotten the spine tingling excitement of hiding during hide-n-seek... I had forgotten, my sweet girl, until I met you.

2008-04-11T14:34:00.000-04:00

When I Look at Your Face... ...little son, I see big, deep, blue eyes staring back at me in pure innocence and unconditional love. I see your button nose and your toothless, double-dimpled grin and I overflow. You are the sweet boy I never knew I could love. ...sweet girl, I see a the glimmer of my BeBa in your big girl eyes and I'm overcome. Blonde hair and sweet cheeks like your Mama, so stubborn like your Mama. Trying so hard to be the big sister, but longing to still be her Mama and Dada's baby. You are my pure joy. ...my perfect husband, I see icy blue eyes overflowing with patience and a supernatural calm. We are growing old together - can you feel it? Look how far we have come. My life is infinitely and forever changed - bigger, better, and yet grounded in ways that I've never comprehended. I see your smile, the twinkle in your eye and I know that there is so much yet to know. "To love another person is to see the face of God." - Les Miserables

2008-03-31T13:46:00.000-04:00

The Sweet Sound of Chaos Yes, you read the title correctly. I've never been so happy to hear screaming and laughing and the pounding of running feet! After five days of being sick, Kayla is better. She is smiling and laughing and she asked me to chase her around the living room. Normally that whole chasing thing is pretty short lived for me, but I heartily chased her around for as long as we could handle it! Breathlessly she declared, "I feel much better!" Indeed! I never thought I would be looking forward to the week coming up that her and I would spend together with the baby. The sick Kayla was much harder to handle then the well Kayla. I'm sure well Kayla and I will have a great time. Note: I didn't publish this post right away and am happy to report that our week together was great. We had our ups and downs, but overall it was a good. Thanks to everyone that was praying for us. In a way, I'm sort of lonely today without Kayla's sweet face around. Just me and the little boy today.

2008-03-18T14:40:00.000-04:00

If Only There Were Two of Me... I'm sure we have all had that thought - wishing we had a clone or an extra set of hands. I'm especially feeling that pain today - figuring out how to juggle two kids - an infant (by definition - needy) and a little under the weather toddler (temporarily needy). It seems that I'm constantly having to choose, whose needs get met first. Unfortunately, my infant son cries more loudly and is harder to reason with and he usually wins the battle. I'm also struggling with how to work with Kayla's recently behavior issues (presumably more apparent or new due to baby Zachary's recent appearance on the scene). A few days ago, I was reading Corey's post over at Living and Loving Every Minute of It (click here to check it out - a little long, but worth it) and I believe she really hit the nail on the head. When our own needs are not met we are impatient and cranky and stray from our core parenting style and frankly from our own personalities in general. It seems like that is the story of my life lately. I'm thankful to Corey for her timely post and helping me get back on track. I guess in the end I keep coming back to this simple truth. God has put me in this situation and he will see me through. I Corinthians 10:13 says "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." How often I am tempted to lash out, to yell, to be impatient, to do what I shouldn't do in this new, two child parenting game. I have to remember that I am weak and nothing without God's help. I often think about how blessed I am to be a mother (twice now!) and I have to constantly focus on God's strength and not my own. With this focus, I can do anything!

2008-03-13T11:21:00.000-04:00

Sweet Girl As those of you know who have had children, the aftermath or "post partum period" can be a roller coaster of emotions. At times I'm happier than I can imagine and other times the littlest thing can make me cry. (Case in point, I am not a country music fan, but there is a country song on the Gospel Music Channel that had me in tears one day.) One morning before Jerry and Kayla left for the day I was crying and Kayla came up to me with the receiving blanket she uses for her doll and said, "Mommy, don't cry, don't be sad" and she wiped my tears away with her blanket. Of course, this made me cry harder. How can a 2 1/2 year old know what her Momma needed so much? I'm so blessed to have such a sweet girl. She adores her little brother and takes every opportunity to kiss him, touch him, and hold him when she can. It will be great when he can respond more to her. Thinking about this reminds me again of how blessed I am.

2008-03-12T12:06:00.000-04:00

Devotion I had a hard time naming this post only because the word devotion seems a bit too cheesy for me, but I can't describe it any other way. I marvel at Jerry's love for me and how he so often anticipates what I need to hear or what needs to be done. It is as if we have found out how to be in sync - in a perfectly, devoted way. Right before we left the hospital with Zachary, we were enjoying a quiet time when he was sleeping. Jerry looked at me and he said, "you should be proud." I knew exactly what he meant. All those months of praying and asking God to give me a natural birth, the work of actually experiencing it and all that pushing! I starting crying. How I needed someone to say that to me, how I longed to shout from the rooftops, "I DID IT!!" But I knew that was not what I was supposed to do. I've tried so hard to be humble and thankful that God would choose me to be a mother again and I knew that was what I should focus on. But to have those words said out loud for me - what a wonderful gift. So I want to be proud, but I won't. Instead, I'm thankful that a faithful, gracious God heard my cry for help and blessed me with the desire of my heart.

2008-03-10T16:50:00.000-04:00

Five Weeks and Counting...and Growing! Five weeks - little Zachary is 5 weeks old today. As some friends predicted, he arrived just after the Superbowl - Monday February 4 at 2:44 am. My water broke at 4pm on Sunday February 3rd and I just laughed. For some reason, this whole pregnancy I had a feeling my water would break and I was in a great mood thinking about how in 24 hours or less, Zachary would be in my arms. I was nervous when I called the midwife and excited that she said as long as labor started on it's own in the next 6 hours I was free to stay home. The contractions felt like low abdominal menstrual cramps and I actually had to ask myself at first, "was that a contraction?" They became regular about 6:30pm and were about 5-7 minutes apart when we left for the hospital about 9:30pm. When we got to the hospital they asked me if I wanted a jacuzzi room - I was excited thinking how comfortable that would be. (Turns out I never used it - more on that later.) They told me I was dilated 6 and 90% effaced. I was elated and happy that I was able to be home through so much of the first part of labor. The contractions were intense, but I prayed through each one and held onto Jerry. I found labor to be a very inward, introspective experience. I closed my eyes through every contraction reminding myself that God created my body to do this work and I should not resist or tense up. When I resisted a contraction they hurt more and seemed unbearable. Unfortunately because I had a c-section last time, they made me wear a fetal monitor at all times. It made it hard to move around although they could hook me up to a wireless unit, they kept having to change the position of the monitor to make sure they could still capture his heartbeat. I tried to walk, but felt best when I was lying on my side, but I knew that this slowed things down. I was unbearably hot - that was one of the most surprising things about the whole experience. (No interest in a hot, jacuzzi tub!) Even though it was freezing cold outside, they turned the heat off completely in my room. I can't imagine if it had been on. By about 1:45, the feelings were incredibly intense, I felt the urge to bear down, but didn't recognize at the time what that feeling was. I just remember sitting on the toilet thinking that my pelvis was coming apart - that it was at the widest position it could be. I was right - I was fully dilated and 100% effaced. I remember the midwife saying to me, "It's time to push this baby out!" I remember saying in a fog, "Really, it is?" I kept thinking - the hard part is over, right? WRONG! I never realized how hard it would be to push out a baby - I just had no idea. I pushed for nearly and hour and I just remember thinking after each push - he has to be out soon right? I was so tired and the fact that I had not slept in almost 24 hours was taking its toll. Near the end they lost Zachary's heartbeat and could not get it on a monitor on his head. That was ironic to me because I could feel him kicking me right at that moment. In the chaos I don't remember if I said anything about it out loud. The midwife said to me, "If we do not get this baby out soon, I will have to cut you." That was enough motivation for me and on the next push, his head came out partially and then the next push he came completely out. I'll never forget that immense feeling of relief and the strange sensation of the umbilical cord still attached to my body. In seconds he was on my chest and I remember saying over and over, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness." He was so big - 9lbs 6oz. They said I could breastfeed him, but I couldn't sit up, so that was challenging, but he sucked for about 10-15 minutes and then they wisked him away over to a bassinet to be weighed and other things. I'm still overwhelmed now 5 weeks later thinking of the experience. I thank God that he gave me the perfect birth - no drugs, a short labor, a beautiful, healthy boy. I just kept looking at him when we were in our room a few hours after he was born and just marveling at how beautiful he was. We were surprised to find that he has two dimples. There is no one else in either my family or Jerry's family that does. I remember during those quiet days in the hospital looking at him and thinking "God must have delighted in making you." Five weeks later I look at him in his swing making growling and cooing noises as he likes to do and being amazed at how big he is already - almost 13 pounds.

2008-01-23T13:36:00.000-05:00

It Won't Be Long Now I'm counting the days until little Zachary John makes his appearance. Everything is going well. The midwives think that he is much smaller than Kayla was and he is head down and ready to go. Everyday seems slow when waiting for something this big to happen. I hate that I just used such a simple word as "big" to describe giving birth and the experience of raising another child. In truth the magnitude of it all is alluding me at the moment. I'm just trying to take one day at a time. Everything is ready - at least physically - his room, clothes, even diapers and wipes all loaded up into the changing table. My bag and his are packed. Yet everyday I keep wondering, am I ready? Mentally ready? I'm trying to stay positive, to take the memory of the chaos of those first few weeks with Kayla in perspective. To remember that I was new to everything and at least this time there are only some aspects that are completely new. Like the fact that he is a completely different person - with a different personality and habits among many other things of course. I'm not sure what I had to say in this post that is very profound, but more just me trying to grasp the stillness and quiet before this joyous change. It reminds me more than ever that I have to trust God in all things. He has given me the gift of this little boy. Zachary John means "remembered by a gracious God." Because he has remembered me, I know that he will be with me through this.

2007-10-18T22:23:00.000-04:00

Don't Let it Get Away I've been subconsciously avoiding this topic for awhile because it means that I have to admit something to myself - that Kayla is growing up and time is flying forward at light speed. I've been sort of watching it all happen out of the corner of my eye in denial as if somehow avoiding this topic will prevent that truth from occurring. But it is happening. In some ways I don't even recognize my baby. She talks is complete sentences now and some of the things we talk about are even surprising to me. With the new baby on the way it reminds me that in some ways she will be forced to grow up a little bit more. This makes me sad, but in the same way I know it will be good for her. She pats my belly and says hi to "baby brudder" just about everyday. Yesterday she asked if baby brudder could come out and play dinosaurs with her. Today she said "he really wants out, right now!" When we told her that she would teach him how to play she just smiled and growled and laughed like she does in her sweet, little excited way. But tonight as I laid down with her as she was falling asleep, all I could see was my baby girl in the half light. Her sweet cherub face filling my view, her little thumb in her mouth, her eyelashes fluttering, fighting the sleepiness. I pulled her close and kissed her. I wished the moment would last forever. In some ways I guess it will - she will always be my baby girl no matter what happens and no matter how old she is.

2007-08-31T21:18:00.000-04:00

The Distraction of Electricity Over this past weekend we spent 40 hours without electricity. It started Friday night about 7pm when a storm passed through and knocked out the power. (Thankfully we still had hot water.) This is very unusual for our area and we were surprised to find that our neighbors across the street all had power. We found out later that only about 35-40 houses in our neighborhood were out. As we sat there in the dark that night, under the faint glow of the street light across the street, I pondered how much we rely on electricity not just for the normal day to day operations such as the hair drying, dish washing, and microwaving, but for the distractions of everyday life. Jerry and I were forced to just sit there, literally, and talk in the romantic candle light. We talked about everything we could think of and enjoyed the candles that had been collecting dust for months. The candles in our fireplace had only been lit once since we put them in this spring - what a travesty! I pulled out every new, scented candle I've been forgetting to try and put them out. It was so quiet...no hum of some distant appliance or even the quiet static of the baby monitor. Most importantly, no computer, Internet or *gasp* BLOG to distract us from what we should really be doing - spending time together. The next morning, the transformer down the street was repaired and we went back to life as normal - washing clothes, sending emails, and blow drying hair. But the story doesn't end here, a little more than 24 hours later, we hear a shocking "ka-pow!" and the power went out again. In some ways I was annoyed, I really wanted to crosstich that night and there is just no way to do that in the dark, even with a great flashlight! In other ways, it was a relief. There was no way I could catch up on some of my work projects or get sucked into the Internet that night. We sat outside watching the stars and gazing at the moon rising. It was cool outside and quiet - we sipped our coffee and talked softly. For once I was thankful for the lack of distractions...for being forced to do nothing but relax. It was as if God was trying to tell us in an indisputable way to just put the difficult week behind us and be still. Well, thanks Big Guy - we needed that!

2007-08-02T21:53:00.000-04:00

The Blossoming Belly Well, for those of you who don't know, Baby Powell v2.0 is on the way. This pregnancy has been very odd or maybe not odd in the "statistical significance" sense, but odd in the "not like the other one" sense. We tried for several months to get pregnant and after watching just about every other female family member get pregnant before me, we were finally blessed with the digital readout at the crack of dawn (6:30am 5/31) of "Pregnant." I was happy and excited but so bleary eyed that the tears ran down my cheeks on the outer rim of my eyes instead of the inner rim near my nose. Weird? Odd? Yeah, it was. Because we were on vacation, we promptly went back to sleep until Kayla woke up. The weeks following involved exponential weight gain (12 lbs in 6 weeks - thanks wacky thyroid!), nausea in the evening - what's that talk about "morning" sickness? Don't know about that... And being smacked on the head with a two by four fatigue at random times of day. For a couple of weeks, Jerry just tucked me in at about 9pm. Suddenly at 10 weeks - I came back to life! I could stay awake in the evenings! I tossed out my saltines that I had permanently attached to my person! I made it through the late afternoon without a snack! Ahhhhh...but then the belly popped out. And with a vengeance it went forth in its glorious round girth. There should be some law against "popping" before week 13. In one week, normal clothes became 2-3 inches too small. Maternity clothes from my previous pregnancy were all for the wrong season, so only a few worked at this stage. But all was not lost - $100 later - two pairs of pants and three shirts joined my life and brought me over to chic maternity land. Who knew that I looked so good in mint green? Or that the inventor of the "miracle pant" would now become a beneficiary in my will? Could sleek khaki pants and breast-hugging shirts somehow make me a better person? I guess that all remains to be seen. On July 11 we went in for my first midwife appointment. After all the talk about twins, she thought it best to do an early ultrasound verification. One little baby was hanging around in there - its little heartbeat flickering. All of a sudden - it started jumping around - thrashing its little arms and legs as if it knew it was on camera and as if to say, "Hi Mom and Dad - I'm doing good in here!!!" Our midwife laughed in surprise and said, "that is so unusual to see the baby moving this early." Well, as we have seen with Kayla, we don't have ordinary babies (and I mean this in the best possible way of course). Of course our baby would move around like mad at 9 1/2 weeks! Two weeks later (11 weeks or so), I felt that flutter feeling (Moms, you know what I'm talking about). Now with "normal" pregnancies this usually happens around 16-18 weeks. I stood there thinking to myself, "Naaaahhhhh, this is pretty early." It's as if this baby heard my thoughts and decided to do it...hmmm...seven more times! I know without a doubt that was the baby moving. I don't care what anyone else says. My midwife confirmed today that without the placenta in front as it was with Kayla, it is pretty likely that I'm more sensitive to movement and I did feel this little one moving. At my appointment today we very easily heard the baby's heartbeat - slower than Kayla's, but very strong as if to say, "I'm strong and healthy, Mom and Dad." I'm pretty convinced that like Kayla, this baby is going to have a story to tell when we meet him or her for the first time. (Kayla's was a pretty intense story as she screamed bloody murder for 45 minutes straight right after she was born. No little baby wah, wah for her!) It's been very different than last time, but so calm and peaceful. It is odd, but I'm looking forward to giving birth. Maybe I am slightly naive as I did not even have one contraction with Kayla (c-section due to her size - 10lbs 3oz), but I have a sense of rightness with this whole process. As for now, the belly continues to grow. I rub it and dance often - just to make Kayla and Jerry laugh. Ironically, even though this blossoming is so important, so unique and so well, fun this time, I have not taken one picture of it in its spherical glory. I guess it's off to select the appropriate photo shoot look and start clicking away.

2007-06-14T21:03:00.000-04:00

Sweet, Sweet Summer... Well, here we are...it's official...the calendar may not say the first day of summer, but it might as well be. Summer unofficially started weeks ago...and isn't glorious! Maybe you don't agree and well, I wouldn't blame you. The shocking transition from 55 degrees to 85 isn't for the faint of heart and can make some of us even irritated with the idea of a new season. I'm with you...I get it...but I'm here to talk about the good stuff. The stuff that summer dreams are made of. There is nothing like gazing at the greenest, most perfectly trimmed patch of grass and just imaging yourself lying on it, petting it. Ohhhh...this love of freshly cut grass has exhibited itself in me very strangely. I have visions of sleeping on it...I think that is why I took up golf. I can't help but love the perfectly manicured greens. When people aren't looking I stroke that grass as if it were my small, furry pet. How can't you love that crisp smelling field of perfection? And the flowers - is there anything like the sight of orange daylillies (and they are everywhere around here these days) smiling in the breeze - swaying so gently as if singing a lullabye. And the sky so blue you can't imagine that it could be real - contrasting with the crisp white clouds floating by. All of this enticing beauty - beckoning me to be a part of it...stirring a longing in me so pure and so exciting. I long to see a lake - not any lake, but Lake Michigan - part lake, part ocean. Big enough that I can't imagine its end, small enough to believe that it can be embraced. I imagine looking out...hearing the waves crash, the seagulls call, the sandpipers flit way with their tiny little feet. Looking out into the endless blue reminds me that this is all a gift from a Creator that longs to know us so intensely that he would use any noble means possible to get our attention. Which brings me to a breathtaking watercolor sunset. Always unique, always quiet, and always gently asking, "Meet me here again tomorrow?" How kind, how thoughtful, how delightfully loving He is. So do yourself a favor tonight, tomorrow or the next day...go outside - maybe at dusk - check out the canvas near you. Now I know in my postage stamp of suburbia I can't really see the full sunset, but I can see the pink and purple streaks reflecting in the sky and the lightening bugs starting to flicker here and there. Get out there...be quiet, be still, and know that He is God.

2007-05-29T20:28:00.000-04:00

The Magnitude of Folding Undergarments Don't be alarmed by the name of this post. I won't be sharing scary stories about my own undergarments or (even scarier) my husband's. Last night, I was folding my daughter's clothes - excited (probably more than she) over all the cute things she just got for her birthday. That crisp little white skirt with the aqua polo embroidered with little hearts - brilliant! If only they made things so perfectly cute for me (and I could actually wear them without looking childish). That was when I stumbled upon them while aimlessly reaching into the basket - 7 pair of little undergarments - pictures of Disney princesses on them. I picked up the first one, folded it and was shocked at how small it was. Mystified by how such a tiny package was about to make such a big impact on me. You see, she hasn't actually worn them yet. I bought them in preparation for the diaper free utopia I hope to experience in the near future. But as I continued to fold each one, I couldn't believe how tiny they were - each little brightly colored nub stacked on top of each other - in contrast to what they represented - the end of the diaper and wipe era. "She's growing up," I thought. What?!?! How could this be happening? Today it's panties, tomorrow it's her first car?!?! I was overcome - the tears started welling up. In a word, I was vehklempt! I had the urge to hide them away - or worse, toss them into the trash with all of the other things I'm vainly attempting to avoid. But I did what I was supposed to (I'm a rule follower at heart - but will break rules in the spirit of the right thing to do). I put them perfectly folded into the basket to put in her drawer the next day. The top drawer - next to the silly infant hats that I can't part with even though they never fit her wibbly, wobbly head and the 75 barettes she refuses to wear. So the magnitude of undergarments you ask? The magnitude is the fact that my baby just turned 2. If you don't have children, this doesn't sound like a very long time, but for those of you that do, you know it is a lifetime. A lifetime of constant newness, of mindblowing changes, of ultimate highs of the first smile, laugh, "Love you, Mama" and ultimate lows of sleepless nights and a child in pain. My heart swelling and overflowing with love and breaking all at the same time. An indescribable journey of matchless joy. As far as my own undergarments, well, they just aren't worth mentioning.