the beauty of Christmas

There are some who are cynical about this season,

pointing fingers and questioning the generosity of others :: wondering if it's temporary or if after the tinsel a giving spirit will continue.

Yes, it's true.  Some may forget and in the next 11 months choose to withhold funds, time, or focus from those in need.

I am more encouraged however by those who have chosen to participate now and for whom this is a lifestyle.  Stories of how families and individuals are reaching out have so blessed me in the last few weeks! 

Some are making commitments of finances, supporting with currency.

Others I see volunteering and stretching their time budget further.

Still others are carving out space in their hearts and homes for hospitality, renewed to give afresh in this way.

All distrubuting kindness, hope, love and encouragement to another.  And I pause to praise.  Truly this is how our Lord intended it to be?

In the rest of this week...

...and in the weeks beyond, be encouraged.  Watch for displays of giving, and rejoice!




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the beauty of Christmas

on being perfect :: part one

I’m a reformed perfectionist.

You know, the Type A first-born sort of thing.  But much bigger in my case.  This is a result of a combination of factors from personality (God-given!) to home life growing up.  Childhood for me was full of an abundance of rules and structure, but I don’t necessarily see all of this as completely out of line. 

My mother I’m convinced is the original FlyLady and could have made some money in her day.  Once-a-month cooking or freezing food ahead of time?  Yep, she missed publicizing that one too as this was a norm in our household long before the books & press.  You see what I mean…we were that kind of family and I was that kind of kid.

So, what then is the big deal?  Is the desire for keeping surroundings uncluttered or organized an issue? 

Being ultra-detailed and a planner a problem?

Well, it can be…

At the Relevant Conference last weekend, Ann Voskamp (probably my favorite modern day writer), spoke some profound words that has me pondering and thinking much. 

“We do not achieve our identity in Christ, we receive it.”  Her words that caused my pen to pause and my heart to beat loudly as I recalled times past :: of the chains that hindered freedom.

The former problem of perfectionism in my life is wrapped up in those few words.  Somehow the truth became twisted as I was caught in the trap of believing that if all was in order (and if I could keep it this way nearly all of the time), then the approval of man and God was in the bag.

Big. Fat. Lie.  And yet, this way of thinking dominated my life for years.  Achieving and not receiving, only to be left soul-tired and weary.  This pattern of thought bears little, or let me be bold and say NO fruit.

So how did I unwind and unravel this mindset? 

I didn’t.  But I did have a head-on-collision with GRACE…

*************

the whole series:

part one:  a reformed perfectionist

part two:  perfectionism is insecurity.  insecurity is fear.

final thoughts:  in the grip of grace

 

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on being perfect :: part one

the delicate dance

{this space is mostly a record of joy, the beauty around me and the life I’m privileged to have.  today I post a mixture :: a bit of reflection on news that has pierced our hearts, wounded our spirits and brought a ray of joy as well.  I believe it’s only right to be true and honest, even in blog world; especially in blog world.  it’s the story of a dance…and with my daughter’s permission, I record a little of the journey here…}

She’s a wisp of a girl still, this graduate of mine. 

Tender and tough has been the journey between us :: the closeness we share is evident through memories past and present.  And memories still to be made in the future.  She’s a good girl, she is.  And oh, how I love her.

Because of her, I’ve grown and matured.  Children have this effect I believe :: exposing the vanity that can often envelope our hearts as parents.   This Mama was a very young mother full of expectation, determination and…pride.  I often observe other mothers now and chuckle softly to myself, knowing that one day they too will wake up to the fact that maybe, just maybe…they are not the best mother in the world.  God usually doesn’t allow pride to have much room; He knows it’s a trap.

So my girl and I grew together as the family grew as well.  The road we’ve traveled has encountered its mountains and valleys, but we all set our sights high.  The fabric of our family, pieced together by His grace, has been strong.  And as we approached the end of a chapter to exchange high school years for young adult ones…that strength was tested.  And often the material frayed or was torn in places.  Yet, grace always mended the wrongs and patched up offenses.  And the journey continued…

It’s a delicate dance, motherhood. 

Often you topple between the partners of both grief and joy, sashaying across the floor with celebration the day they’re born or come into your life, say their first word, enter school years and take the first calculated risk that works out right.  The world is right-side up, laughter bubbles and all is well…joy!

And then there are days of painful tears~theirs and yours as you each face disappointments and the reality that this life on earth…well, it’s just not going to be perfect, or even beautiful always.  That’s for another time and another place.  When the ever gentle hand of the bearer of tears will wipe them away from our faces for the last time. Oh, hallelujah.  Until then, motherhood sometimes dances with sadness :: heart heavy and steps awkward, an unwelcome union.

I’ve waltzed with both partners through the nearly 20 years of mothering; and the last several months found me stumbling between the two as my husband and I learned that our unwed teenage daughter was expecting, due 11 months after the last grace gift entered the family.  Our world came to a screeching halt.

At first, there were no words, none whatsoever.  There was nothing really but the auto-pilot nature that I’ve been given to just keep swimming, even if it’s upstream.  She needed us.  We are committed to her. And that was that.

But not really.  And there began a dance so wild, but not free.  So tender, but so broken.  And so desperately in need.  I argued with my Savior, tossing my grief and even anger His way.  I ‘gave up’ on certain days and wanted to quit…quit what?  Well, anything really.  Just to feel in control of something.  I did not despair of life, but I did despair.  For a time, there was little consolation of spirit.

Then the dance grew more still as the days passed.  No longer the frantic movements of a wounded spirit, whirling across the floor with sorrow as a primary partner.  With that same determination of a young mother’s heart, I chose an additional companion.  Not in denial or some fake-Christianity tactic, but a true bona fide choice to take it one step at a time.  With Him.  For really, what other option would lead me to freedom? 

When I could not see how to move forward, He answered.  He spoke words that have sustained me and kept my feet from falling.  He showed me how to continue in light of all of our ministry and family responsibilities.  He would not let me quit. 

And as the news has gone public, He is here.  Not being one to become consumed by other’s opinions or thoughts on my personal matters, I find this the easier portion of the journey though the loss of privacy is unsettling.  I had to find my footing with my Jesus first and foremost.  Oh, careless words find their way in and wound…I am human.  And the silence of friends messes with my mind :: for the life of me, I cannot understand why Christians (Christians!) stay quiet when they can offer an encouraging word—what are we so afraid of?

But all this aside for now...there’s a new grace gift coming!  And my heart has always and will always believe and proclaim that all children are a gift straight from the throne of heaven.  That’s how the Creator set it up.  What a super brilliant idea.  So we’ve prepared our hearts and minds around this reality. 

I’m not afraid to admit that every so often I still weave a path between grief and joy; swaying softly among the two. 

There’s no embarrassment in saying that :: it’s a dance after all….

 

{prayers for our family are appreciated ~ that we would fear God & honor His ways, that the darkest days are behind us and that we would all walk as children of the light.  thank you.}

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the delicate dance

sweetness

Often when sibling mayhem of the grandest sort breaks out around here…

I am reminded of times when there is tenderness between the relationships of brothers and sisters in our home.  Days where everyone seems to get along without reminders from Mom; laughter, play, and peace.

And the four in our home think of and pray often for the one who is not :: an older sister far away from their daily lives, but not from their hearts.  The sweet little prayers that are said, the emails sent, the phone conversations :: oh, they melt me on the inside!  Truly a gift, it is. 

sweetness

finding purpose in photography

In the last number of years I’ve been scrapbooking, I have enjoyed taking pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures (I’m most grateful for the invention of the digital camera)!  Mostly pictures of my children and family or of the events that touch of our lives.  In the past year or so, there’s been a new energy for photographing nature and the surrounding beauty :: bits & pieces of the outdoor world that really went unnoticed before.  By the way, thanks for the compliments on the photographs of our vacation!  I treasure the ones posted (and the other several hundred that were taken. Ahem.)

I recently commented to someone that this snapping of nature photos is my preference :: “I really don’t like taking pictures of people outside of my family” was jokingly said, but in reality it’s fairly close to the truth.  The person I was sharing with takes beautiful photos of others ~ somehow, this avenue just doesn’t inspire me that much (I’m still a good person, right? :o)

But in the last few days, I’ve changed my mind.  Radically.

On vacation I began this book, a story of grief and loss mixed in with joy :: a family’s journey through the difficult set of circumstances of losing their baby girl two hours after birth (and knowing all along she would not live long).  It was all I could do to read the first few chapters; while my situation is altogether different and one that hasn’t found words in this space…the delicate dance of grief and joy is our family’s current reality and the tender words of the author were too much.  And so I moved on to other books.

But I could feel a prompting to return, to look back through the pages and to continue reading.  I’m so glad I did.

For in the pages, I discovered an organization that stuck a deep chord inside of me and prompted a conversation with my spouse of how I could be involved.  Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep was founded in 2005 by parents who lost their baby and whose mission is ‘to introduce remembrance photography to parents suffering the loss of a baby with the free gift of professional portraiture.’  A group of more than 7,000 photographers around America and in 25 other countries who volunteer their time and gifts to grace those hurting with pictures of their little one. 

For free.

Oh, how my heart was moved.  I could take pictures of this group of people, yes I would want to.

And while at this very moment in my life, there is not the freedom to pursue right now (my preference!), I hear the voice of Jesus calling me to sharpen this skill and love for photography :: as I shoot and capture my children’s antics or a baby’s smile, to learn more and grow more comfortable.  And one day, I hope to volunteer….

 

{photo from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep’s website}

finding purpose in photography

thinking ahead

Another year of home educating is coming to a close, and this Mama finds it a little bittersweet.

My second girl is wrapping up elementary school and it’s hard to believe that seventh grade is right around the corner!  Okay, we do have the summer in between…but wow.  Girl number three closes the door on first grade and the little boy born just ‘yesterday’ is joyfully looking forward to next year, and the next year, and the next year…

And so it goes.

I should be excited that they are all so thrilled with homeschooling—I am too and right now can’t imagine another road to travel.  Had you asked me about six weeks ago I probably would have had a different answer though!  We have our days.  In the next few weeks I hope to write a little here and there about our year, so we can remember and give thanks.

Plans have begun floating around in my head for next year—plotting and thinking through what our days will hold and how it will work together (the baby will NOT be a sleeping infant but a toddling little boy).  But first, warmer months are coming and we’re all looking forward to a break and some new activities!

To all other homeschoolers out there….a happy ending to your year (whenever that may be)!

A few treats before you go~

Have you been to Simple Homeschool’s site yet?  It’s a new community and very informative.

A suggestion on how to organize homeschool days :: seek to scale seven daily rungs on the ladder

The best book on educating children that I have read so far :: this one is dog-eared, underlined and highlighted throughout!

And here’s a post that’s not necessarily about homeschooling, but on living life on purpose—deliberately, intentionally.  Great for homeschooling Mamas don’t you think?

 

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thinking ahead

experience Calvary

 

may you experience Calvary this weekend

I pray your senses are filled—that you see, hear, touch and feel the pain & beauty of our Lord’s sacrifice

remembering He was ripped open so that our wounds could be closed

so we could not just be saved once, but be renewed daily, filled continually with his presence

Yeshua, Jesus

made His way to Calvary.

 

Let’s make our way to Him.

A blessed Easter to all…..

 

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experience Calvary

ordinary days

You know…some days are just plain boring.

Yep, you read that right :: boring and ordinary.

Or at least it can seem that way to this stay-at-home Mama whose often tired of hearing the echo of sibling squabbles, or seeing the room just cleaned become a perfect storm.  Some nights I fall into bed thinking ‘I seriously hope tomorrow is better’ before drifting off into a deep sleep ::

that is, if no one enters our room at three a.m. searching for his blue blanket, which is right next to his pillow.

Of course.

Ordinary days.  Laundry, cooking dinner (that may or may not pass for a ‘good meal’), sweeping and wiping up messes, losing patience and praying for more, and the list goes on.  But ordinary can be good I’m thinking because those days remind us or at least hopefully teach us to appreciate the extraordinary moments.  You know…the ones where I don’t hear or see the children, go into a serious panic, only to find them contentedly lying on the couch listening to big sister reading aloud.  Yes.

But if I live this parenting life waiting solely for the mountain-top experiences, I’m setting myself up (and my children) for major disappointment on a regular basis.  I must learn to appreciate the ordinary and accept it as part of the experience. 

Our Master had ordinary days—times where he had to settle disputes among his children (um, disciples), clean up messes & mistakes (like bloody ears, eww) and felt exhausted…so exhausted he slept through the perfect storm.  Jesus was one extraordinary God-man whose days were filled with the ordinary of life. 

And so it is with us :: when life is boring, or plain, with nothing really exciting happening…it’s okay and not a sign of defeat or a reason for disappointment.  It’s just simply part of the experience.

Embrace it.

 

photo of a simple extraordinary moment:

good book, iPod humming tunes, homemaking journal, and hoping the baby on the other end of that monitor naps long.

ordinary days

to stir the soul

I am consistently amazed by the minds of young children :: the questions that arise from their understanding of whatever is being presented causes me to think, to reflect. I’m not only referring to my little ones, but also the many children I’ve had the privilege of teaching through the years. Truly a sight to behold.

Today in the midst of baking gingerbread cookies, pondering the Nativity story…a few of these questions stirred my soul.

“Mom, do you think Jesus missed heaven while he was here on earth?”

“Do you think he was really excited to go back after 33 years of being gone?”

Hands stop the mixer from stirring as this soul feels just as jumbled as the dough…

Oh, my.

I understand the feeling of longing for home, of being away from the place that represents comfort, peace, familiarity. Of wanting so much to return to the place where I belong. Home is dear to me; and while I enjoy travel and seeing new sites…home is often on my mind even then.

But that is not the story of our Christ. He wasn’t just here to visit and take in new surroundings, to collect snapshots. This was a mission He had been waiting to fulfill, one that involved much suffering, much pain. When all was complete, was He ready & excited for the journey home?

I answer my little one with a yes.

Yes…..I’m thinking he was ready to be home; and what a gift that He came.

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to stir the soul

adoration

To you Jesus, the One and Only…

explaining Your story to young minds and hearts pauses me, moves me to contemplation.

You left the glory of heaven.  You came to earth.

little ones ask ‘why?’ and I explain :: but this heart is stirred, watery-eyes accompany my mind’s race to understand such profound love.

You promised to come :: and You did.

 

I am amazed and stunned really.  The greatest story ever told still rocks my world, still leaves me speechless. Once again we pause to reflect on Your coming into obscure surroundings and situations.  A humble entrance into a world that would both embrace and reject You.

will both accept and deny You.

I simply respond with adoration :: not always consistent or fervent, this act of worship. And I have no words fitting for such sacrifice…

…but perhaps maybe just that I love you and that I thank you.

simple adoration.

adoration

soul cries

Oh Father, we miss her. We really do.

And while we do not sit with questions of ‘why’, our soul cries out to You in real pain.

To the One who understands our loss.

This grief is so very small compared to the man who called her wife and the children who’s mother is not there at night. We share in their own soul-cry journey from a distance.

And we miss her too, wishing for just one more trip out west…another opportunity to share with friends. It’s difficult for us to accept that those days are over, her passing to Your eternal glory leaves a void here on earth :: and the living grieve.

Comfort your people, O Lord.

Gratitude today for ~

:: bread pudding. Our favorite ‘Annette recipe’ has not been made quite yet, but yesterday we enjoyed a local taste & recounted memories, with tears yes, but precious memories they remain.

:: early morning conversations~spouse to spouse. enjoyed today and reminding me of how our dear friend would never let us get by with a quick ‘fine’ to the question ‘so, how are things?’ We appreciated it!

:: the opportunity for friendships. deep, real friendships.

{photo ~ so completely Annette! At our last campfire together, May 2007, she says ‘Let’s take pictures at the same time!’ So we did.}

soul cries

simply me

I hang up the phone and pause to contemplate words undeserved, words spoken in admiration but that have left me pondering once again their concealed meaning…

‘Oh, you’re a super-mom, a super-woman!  You’re simply amazing!’

Is this really true?  And what does this mean anyway :: have I somehow reached a status that we as women and mothers are to try and attain?  Who makes these decisions….

My spirit is disturbed at the thoughts shared.   It often rattles me when an outsider receives a peek into our daily routine, our pattern & rhythm of life and makes such a declaration.  I’m not amazing.  I am just simply me.  Just attempting to live out our priorities in a God-honoring way, what feels right for our family.  There are no claims that what we do or how I function works for all, but at times others seem to think so.  While I know how to receive and even welcome compliments, I still cringe :: for I want to inspire, not intimidate.  They receive a message not intended.

It’s flattering and can lead to pride, oh I’ve been there.  When others try to emulate and copy, the heart swells with selfish thoughts leading to an uppity disposition that has trapped so many.  It’s a snare, pride is.  Ugly and unrelenting in it’s trap.  I don’t want that.

 

And yet, I am to be me.  Living out the plans and purposes He designed, trying to be a good steward of the gifts He has given.  Exploring the interests that cause a spark in my mind or heart.  I didn’t ask for these gifts—they do not belong to me ultimately :: and my creative pursuits are wide and many…

but that’s just who I am.  It’s simply me.

While there are many aspects we should hold in common, we’re each to walk in the unique path set before us, to develop our abilities and talents, to share with others the gifts bestowed upon us.  We should not push our own expectations onto others, but neither should we shrink back because others have yet to accept who they are uniquely.  Encourage spirits though, for they only struggle with an ailment common to us all at one time or another.

     

What is the right path for you?  Is it one of quiet in this season or do you sense a wild stampede of ideas, rushing to the surface to make themselves known?  Perhaps this is a time for retreat from previous plans, or on the other hand…it’s time to step forward :: knees shaking, heart trembling but a readiness to pursue & move ahead. 

Dare to be who you were created to be.  Live fully and uniquely to how you’ve been wired.   Really, it’s the only way.  But, for His glory, oh yes….only for His glory.

“Not to us, O LORD, not to us
       but to your name be the glory,
       because of your love and faithfulness.”

                                                                     Psalm 115:1

 

photo: last weekend’s project~homemade tic-tac-toe board for game time fun (idea came from here)

simply me

who am I?

Today I sit and wonder, marveling at the nature of it all…

Who am I to be so blessed, to have been trusted with so much from Your hand?  You, only You, could have showered me with more than silver or gold could buy, more than I could have asked for or even known I needed.  How is it Lord?

For it’s not by my merit or some great deed I’ve accomplished that these gifts from Your bounty are deserved. 

No, I do not deserve anything :: but You have given everything.

May I remember this always…any talent, whatever ability, all grace & mercy, each and every good gift :: it’s from You and belongs to You. 

I am simply a steward attempting faithfulness in all of this—lead me on Faithful One.  Lead me on.

who am I?

to the One who loves

{The primary purpose of this blog is to share joy and highlights, but today I feel the need to remind myself of His consistency to me in hard times, though I've not always explained them in this space. So I write…}

In the stillness of late night or perhaps it is early morning?—all the household hush with slow rhythmic breathing and the gentle whirring of ceiling fans…

I awake.

I am drawn to old journals, words scribbled on bound paper, some written in haste, some with more deliberate thought :: whispers and cries of my heart in the past year. I reflect and review this season of time, this slice of history that has molded my character, seared itself into my memory…becoming a part of me forever.

And I remember.

It has been a difficult year, these past twelve months :: reminding me of summer’s intense heat that threatens to scorch and burn away the good as well—times of great memories mixed in with the messiness.

Both laughter and tears are my companions as I read. I wonder about and wander through page after page, thought after thought, lament and praise from one set of lips. And He reminds me of the greatest of these, the one hope forming a foundation for these scraps of utterance written on paper…

He has loved me with an everlasting love.

And I have made feeble and often faulty attempts at extending that love into situations and people around me, rather wanting to protect and shelter my own emotions from the storm. Still…You loved me Jesus.

Unconditional, steady and fervently passionate as You embraced my joy and sorrow—this mix I could not at times understand, but just needed to accept.

My friend, the One and only, the Lover of my soul…I thank You. Once again with scraps of words that will never adequately express how I truly feel,

Thank you for this love. I would have been completely undone without Your presence and steadfast mercy. Therefore, my heart rejoices and gives praise,

to the One who loves.

to the One who loves

quiet moments

Once again, my husband has arranged a time of respite for his bride.  A time where the primary purpose is to soak up some quiet, rest, and enjoy activities without the hustle and bustle of little ones.  Not that I mind them of course.

So my faithful protector packed up the children {wait, I did that!} and left three days ago for a trip up north to visit his parents.  Nana & Grandad were thrilled and big sister Jackie was surprised; all in all I’ve heard the trip has been good.  They’re due home tonight.

And me?  Yes, the quiet has been good, though being home instead of leaving didn’t quite put me in the restful mode.  Oh, I slept in & took several naps, enjoyed leisurely walks & times of spiritual reflection.  Then shopping for post-baby Mama clothing was on the list.  Also baby items needed to be washed; and our second girl goes off to her first overnight camp next week…so just a few tasks to do as preparations are made.

While extended time alone is very appreciated, I am aware of the efforts made by both my husband and myself to make sure that everyday life doesn’t become so jam-packed that we do not rest.  Our Lord commands us to make room for respite on a regular basis and in the past year we’ve made more efforts to bend towards this mandate. 

There are areas of growth needed and we keep those before us.  I am so glad however that our home life & ministry life, as very full as it is, does not overcrowd unnecessarily.  This pursuit of rest must be a deliberate choice, and it is at times difficult to tame the tyranny of the urgent.  We actually have to work at making sure there is time to rest!  But it is important to us…and to the Lord.  So we move in this direction seeking wisdom often on how to juggle it all.  He is so faithful to answer!

quiet moments

choosing home

At a recent extended family get-together, I had an interesting talk with a cousin. She and I had not been in touch directly for several years and as we caught up on life, the conversation led to the obvious topic of my rounding belly and child number five.

She asked the usual and common questions:

“Wow, how are you going to do it all? I have no idea how you do it already!”

“How many children are you going to have!?” {hmm, I’ve been wondering the same}

“Do you ever have time for yourself!?”

I was unprepared however for another statement made, albeit probably innocently; one that led to a bit of righteous indignation (I think it was righteous?) on my part.

“I wouldn’t want to live your life. No way.”

Deep breath. Another deep breath :: calm down right now self. Yes, good…good. Keep it holy.

Knowing the comment could be ignored and the topic switched, I instead chose to answer in what I hope was a testimony instead of a rebuke.

“You know, I’m living the life of my dreams. I’m not stuck in this and could do something different at any point. But I willingly chose this way and am very happy with my decision.”

I choose to be home. And even with its challenges, I appreciate the vision & direction my spouse provides for my role in our family. I did assure my now speechless cousin that this path may not be for every woman, and that many women would love the opportunity, but for a variety of reasons & life circumstances simply cannot. I am not a staunch believer in one-size-fits-all. But for me? This is my life, and I really, really enjoy it.

My little talk didn’t last long, though I probably could have expressed more thoughts. Shorter is often better and I didn’t want to deliberately offend. At the end of it all, the final words expressed were that I hope she is as happy in her life choices as I am in mine. She semi-nodded and we moved on to other topics.

*****

Lord, may I continue to find contentment in my work and vocation. Let my heart not judge unfairly the actions & choices of others, but simply seek to serve You in all areas. I give to you this day—show me your glory here in this home, in this work.

Amen.

photo credit

choosing home

tender ties

{thank you so much for the prayers & encouragement! this little one continues to stay put and the pregnancy relieved of contractions. we rejoice!}

Mother’s Day reflections~

He bounces onto the bed, all 41 pounds of this exuberant three-year old nearly crashing into my belly. “Happy Mother’s Day!” spoken in a growly whisper that only a mother could appreciate. “Daddy told me to say that!!”

At least he’s obedient. For now.

She floats in next, light & airy in complete ballerina style, and sprawls out her six-year old frame next to me. Yawn. Another yawn. “You will like your gift Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.” Her tone & demeanor clue me into the fact that she probably would have appreciated the extra minutes of sleep. We embrace tightly, the only kind of hugs she is capable of.

I wait a bit and yes, here she comes. Mind set on the task at hand—Mom is to be celebrated today, no reservations. Inside I chuckle at this ten-year-old’s seriousness, one that I fully understand and can relate to. I beat her to any words and we banter back & forth about the day’s plans, how she spent her evening of sleep. “Are you happy you’re a mother?” Oh serious, I tell you. Very, very deep this child. I assure her that this vocation, this calling, brings me great joy.

My spouse watches in observation. Cards are opened :: much laughter & merriment. Church attendance, a full lunch. Naps, Mama included.

Communication with my oldest, who has recently moved further north. Could I have guessed long ago that love & appreciation would come in the form of text messages & voicemails from this out-of-high-school & into-the-world-beyond young lady? “Sorry your card is late Mom! It should be there soon!” I trust that’s true.

Oh, the fullness. Even the little babe to come celebrated by keeping me up most of the night with persistent kicks & jabs.

And I think of the ties to my children—once envisioned as strong cords, perhaps rope-like, wrapped around them and me. And I found this Mother’s Day wondering if that’s really the best picture :: probably better describing a marriage covenant? The bond is strong, no doubt about it. The intensity of love, devotion, care & concern for them…it’s all there. But motherhood has in the past few years taught me that the ties are tender.

Almost spider-web like in it’s delicate nature.

My children are with me for a small window of time really. The extension of myself, this journey of motherhood, is much about release. The opportunity to weave for them a web, if you will, a place & purpose in our family is big…but not the only goal. The home we form is their temporary incubation period, albeit very vital to who they become.

But I am preparing them for another place and bit by bit teaching them how to weave a web of their own, for their future offspring…and on & on it goes for generations to come. God’s delicate design. Strong, yet loose. Tough and tender, all at the same time. May my heart flow with the process and not resist His plan.

Oh Lord,

sanctify and prosper my domestic devotion, instruction, discipline, example.

that my house may be a nursery for heaven…enriched with trees of righteousness of thy planting…

for thy glory. {excerpt from Valley of Vision}

tender ties

unbroken circle

In the rush of the weekend, him preparing quickly and leaving for one direction, to share a slice of time with other men in our congregation…being renewed spiritually,

and me preparing with haste also for another direction, list in hand marking off tasks as I anticipate a brief pause from daily life to enjoy the rise and fall of instrument sounds,

we both eagerly looked forward to our ‘retreats’, the previous week had offered little for such withdrawal…

and in the passing of time, I forget to mark the day. April 17th.

Not an event to be written on the calendar, just a remembrance in my heart. An anniversary of sorts :: the day he asked me. To marry him. Each year we celebrate in some fashion our wedding date, sometimes with great fanfare and other seasons of life required a far more simple recognition. But April 17th has been my own special observance and I quietly, without really sharing the news, remembered that day many moons ago by wearing only my engagement ring…just for the day.

Through the years I’ve been twice congratulated on my upcoming wedding, only to explain to strangers this silly little ritual of mine, spoken as a passing commitment in the first year of marriage, but actually a practice that stuck. Tears flowed from one cashier, & she behaved as if I had just given over a large sum of money for personal use. Bless her.

So after reconnecting and sharing stories from our times away, I approached the calendar last evening to prepare mentally for the week ahead, make lists and the like. Then only to remember, a few days late.

But no real grief over such a small matter :: I will take today to reminisce, to think back. And for just one day to wear the first part of my love-gift, this unbroken circle of gold.

unbroken circle

waiting

This week begins much different than the ending of the last, gratitude rises with each breath of relief as I wonder again at my lack of consistency in trusting this Mighty God :: in leaving it all laying before Him and awaiting His answers.

I am so impatient Lord.
And that response has never proven helpful to my situations, so when will I learn?

I have fluttered between a variety of emotions. True excitement about our future and then a tinge of worry as I wonder how everything will flow together into a rhythm of life that is not chaotic. In the last several days, each of our responsibilities have weighed heavy and felt burdensome to my spirit, much different than the yoke you speak of and that I've experienced.

How will I get it all done? How will everything fit together? Oh, the looming questions on probably every homemaker's heart! And though this question has been faced and fear conquered over many seasons, the last several days...this past week Lord...it seemed too large for me. A strong force of doubt began to shut out Your voice :: I momentarily gave in to the fear.

 

But Thou Oh Lord are a shield for me, my glory and the lifter of my head. You will not leave me comfortless, and when I ask, wisdom beyond understanding is made available to me. Once again, as I cried out my lament and waited...

YOU became my answer. YOU became my daily bread, the air I breathe :: and in that presence, the opposing emotions began to settle, lose their power over me. Wisdom, strategy for new family patterns & rhythms begin to emerge.  You began to put the pieces of our life together as I released the entire puzzle to you.  And while there are still questions, I will choose to wait on the rest. I will allow You to be enough.

::::

That is the question I think we ask during our times of worry, of anxiety, of doubt.  Will He be enough?  Will my Lord take care of me and the situation before me?  You are here Lord…right?

It was the battle of Abraham as he wondered & worried about the promise made and his lack of a child to carry out the vision…

of prophets like Jeremiah and Elijah as they were disregarded and rejected for doing what God had required of them…

of Hannah who pleaded with her God about the desires of her heart…

of Mary who must have been truly shaken up by her angelic encounter, trusting & yet perhaps wondering how it would all work out.

Scripture give us many clues into the hearts of those who struggled in this area and we can read of Moses, King David, Queen Esther, and on…

Each and every time, He answered.  In His own way, in His own time, He assured each heart of His presence and an awareness of all that lay before them.  So, we can release any anxiety into these hands…and wait on HIM.

photo credit

waiting

loss

:: we say good-bye to a dear friend I’ve mentioned here in this space several times.  Annette, you now enjoy the splendors of heaven

gratitude…

148.  for a woman of God who influenced my own spiritual walk, encouraged me to be authentic, even in this fishbowl life that is ours

149.  the opportunity to see in your home & in your life hospitality in action—consistently opening your doors and heart to others

150.  great recipes!  I copied several out of your cookbooks, the bread pudding is a fave of my husband’s; we’ll eat it in the future & remember good times

151.  and just the reminder from watching you that life was meant to be lived to the fullest.  so what if the dishes didn’t get done or the family room is a bit messy, invite that friend over anyway; spend lavish time with my children, nurture my relationship with my spouse, even when it’s hard; love God, His people and His house.

what a legacy you have left, Annette.  Thank you.

 

{photo of Annette & her husband Scott taken May 2007, before cancer diagnosis, our last visit as families}

loss