They Hang Like Paper Lanterns

The Cup That Overflows

2010-08-14T10:41:00.002-05:00

I have had much to say.
And I've had very little to utter.

My life seems to operate in this push-me-pull-you kind of way these days. In the spring I felt strongly impressed by God to allow myself a time of silence, to simply sit back and "be," to keep my eyes and ears open but my mouth closed. To exercise my self-discipline. Perhaps preparing me to tend to other things that I didn't yet know were on my horizon.

In April I was diagnosed with breast cancer- although I knew it in my heart for almost a month previous to it being officiated. What graciousness that whispers these things early to my spirit! Preparing the way for hard news, readying me to face my husband, my children, my parents, my sisters and brothers, my friends and family and to tell them to their stricken faces- God is doing something in me and He is using my body as a vehicle.

I have wanted so often to come to this blogging "living room" of mine and tell the world what God has brought about, what He is still in the process of revealing to me. But I've feared the narcissism of it all. (And then I give myself a good chuckle, because after all, what else IS a blog if it's not all about what I want to say and how I want to engage the world? Blog= narcissism.) And at times, most of the time really, I'm at a loss for words. Breast cancer is a huge thing. Even more profound are the twists and turns my heart takes on a daily basis- some as a direct result of this new facet to my life, some just bubbling away in the day-to-day of life.

I've wanted to come to this "living room" to share with you, but then... what do I really have to say? The words do not come easy. The answers don't come easy. Even the questions themselves are somewhat hard to articulate.
So, again, I've had to learn contentment in just sitting quietly and letting it wash over me. Holding out my tiny cup of me into the pounding waterfall of life and taking what small droughts I can. Is this what they mean when they say "my cup overfloweth?"

I sit here these days breastless, hairless, tastebud-less, and sometimes energy-less. But I am not hopeless or loveless. My cup overfloweth.

And I truly apologize for not getting this out here sooner. But if you're interested, I have a Facebook support group that I write to frequently- it's the practicals and the weekly updates of what my treatment is like. Look for "Erin Teske Support Group" in the groups section of Facebook. I'd love to add you.
For those of you trying to steer clear of Facebook, I also send the same updates out through an E-mail loop. Just leave me your preferred E-mail address in the comments section here, and I'll add you to the list.

Giveaway Winner- FOUND ART

2010-03-22T06:49:00.002-05:00

Congratulations to Rebecca!

You've won a free copy of Leeana Tankersley's new book, Found Art. I know you will really enjoy this memoir.

Send me your snail mail address, Becky, and I'll pop this in the mail to you right away.

Found Art- Leeana Tankersley

2010-03-15T07:00:00.001-05:00

Debut author Leeana Tankersley constructs a literary collage of memories and mementoes from living in the Middle East during the Iraq War in her travel memoir, Found Art: Discovering Beauty in Foreign Places (Nov. 2009). She reflects on discovering beauty in a foreign land by weaving together her experiences living in the Persian Gulf for a year.

After marrying a Navy SEAL, Tankersley moved over 8,000 miles away from her home in San Diego to Bahrain where her husband was stationed. She retraces her steps through the Middle East, and she recalls the subtle changes in herself that left her utterly transformed. Somewhere between bartering in a souq, a Middle Eastern market, and wearing a borrowed abaya, an Islamic overgarment, to tour the Grand Mosque, Tankersley found a profound beauty in the unknown that sunk beneath her skin.

Found Art is an insightful collection of stories that Tankersley crafts into a literary piece of artwork. With an artist’s eye she combines bits of memories and trinkets – a handwritten note from Kuwait, a braid of fringe from a Persian rug, a Navy SEAL Trident – to create her own piece of Found Art. She celebrates what most would overlook – a receipt from the Russian-Georgian restaurant on Louisiana Street, a bit of basting thread – to piece together a work of unexpected beauty.

“Writing, for me, is often about two things,” says Tankersley, “creative processing and authentic giving. The book has been my way of working through, and then salvaging, the bits and pieces of Bahrain. In that sense, I wrote it for myself, so that I would never forget. Also, I wrote the book for those who are feeling lost, as I have felt so often. Ideally it offers the honest gifts of permission and validation and hope and beauty.”

Found Art is a travel memoir, but in it Leeana travels to surprising places. Traveling is rarely only about the terrain, the language, the food, or the mode of transportation, is it? It's not so much about the history and culture of the places we find ourselves as it is about what being in that kind of place brings out of us. In this book Leeana travels to her needs, her insecurities, her bedrock of faith, her successes, her crutches and her props. She travels closer to her God and to her true self- all between Bahrain and San Diego.

This is the best kind of travel memoir.

* As part of the book tour for Found Art, I’m hosting a creative response project for folks who've already enjoyed the book. Will you play along?

Option 1: In Found Art Leeana talks about practicing silence.

The risk of sitting in the silence, as we all know, is what we will find there. (pg. 56)

Profound and slightly scary all at the same time, isn’t it?

Practice silence for one hour... or more if you're able. Is silence normally something you seek out or tend to resist? Create a collage as an artistic response based upon what you learned through silence.

Option 2: Create a collage of your life. Use words and pictures from magazines, odds and ends from around your house, and original paintings or drawings or writings. Don’t worry about creating something perfect. Just be true to yourself and choose items that particularly resonate with you, even if you don’t know exactly why.

I’d love to see how you are moved to create something representative of your own journey, so if you take up either of these challenges please leave a link in my comment box and we’ll share our journeys together.

* For those of you who haven’t read Found Art yet, I have a free copy to giveaway. Woohoo for free books! To enter the drawing, leave your name in the comments section along with a phrase that describes the “foreign land” you are traveling through at this point in your life.

Here's mine, represented in the collage below. "My Best Friend No Longer Believes the Truth of the Scriptures" and "Training to Run a 5K." To read a further explanation of my collage, click here.

I'll draw the winner's name and post it right here in one week- March 22nd.

My free review copy of Found Art was provided by Zondervan.

Role Reversal

2010-02-01T20:59:00.004-05:00

Lately, as my husband tucks the mid-kid into bed she has taken to telling him a bedtime story. He delivers sips of water, hair smoothes, tickles, smooches and quilt tucks, and she fills his ear with an enthusiastic rendition of a much-loved bedtime story.

Currently she is recounting the Twelve Labors of Hercules.

Hercules' Third Labor- mucking the cow stalls of King Augeas- is tonight's featured program. (Line forms to the right.)

Lions and Donkeys: Snow in Narnia

2009-12-22T11:48:00.005-05:00

We got 18 inches of snow over the weekend.

A lovely gift on our 15th wedding anniversary.
All I wanted to do was stay home with my love and enjoy a cozy day. You can bet we weren't going anywhere when this was coming down, so I got exactly what I wanted.

Recently I finished the book, The Wisdom of Wilderness, by Gerald May. It's rare that a book intrigues and calls to me, yet constantly frustrates me all at the same time.
Much of May's words resonated with my spirit and kept me coming back for more. It's plain to me that both Gerald May and I are wired to respond to God in Creation. It's nice to have a compatriot.

But so many times May ascribed glory to something other than God. Or at least, some muddled version of God. I felt like he was leading me to the precipice of worship- where all I wanted to do was lean out over the edge and fall into the glory of the One True Creator, and yet this manufactured wind suddenly came up from below forcing me to teeter on my toes, stretching out over the edge, seeing clearly the wonder that was down there, but denying me the gravity to fall into that glory with all of my being.
Frustrating. Especially from a compatriot.

When a donkey is publicly paraded as a lion... and not just any lion... THE Lion... Aslan... well, the Narnian in me feels robbed. This so-called "lion" has a curious clip-clopping sound to its regal stride. It voices an odd braying when it commands its armies. It relies far too often on its monkey-of-an-adviser. This is a Puzzle-leader, hidden and mysterious behind smoke and disguises. And you want me to follow him? This is not the Aslan I've come to know and trust. As a Narnian, I smell a donkey.

Aslan will indeed come and reveal Himself. In a glorious way that puts all imposters and monkey-men to shame.

I'm waiting on May's precipice. Teetering on this wind that buoys my weight and teases my senses. I think I'm going to take that glorious fall, but no.
It wouldn't take much for May to just let me fall. (Which is my passionate desire. To fall.)

Just point me to Aslan. Just reveal him. Say his name.
Please.
Don't let the companionship falter now; not now that we've come this far together.

In the end, May never says it.
But I'm not really the one he needs to satisfy, am I?

For my part, I'll take my Narnian-self into those 18 inches of glorious snow. I will take Gerald May's companionship and learn from God in the wilderness. I know Who brought the snow and I know Who is teaching me with it.

No matter what anyone else says (or doesn't).

Further up and further in.

* Many thanks to Laura who hosted a group book discussion on High Calling Blogs. My faith walk has been enriched because of it.

The Wildest Place

2009-11-12T11:37:00.006-05:00

These days I'm reading The Wisdom of Wilderness, by Gerald May.
Also doing a Bible Study on the Tabernacle/Temple.

The wildest place I can think of today:

The Holy of Holies

The beauty of the Lord attracts me, calls me.
The peace and safety in his Presence draws me in.
I'm quaking in my boots.

Field Trip- Muir Woods

2009-10-30T14:25:00.006-05:00

Coastal Redwoods, Hospitality

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

Cradle or grave?
Or both?

I feel now that my average height is rather short.

Strike that. Very short.

Very, very short.

Another world lives beyond my line of sight.

Please pass this along to our Host.
I've had a lovely time.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation. Fourth Edition.

2009-09-05T08:00:00.000-05:00

What I Did On My Summer Vacation. Third Edition.

2009-09-04T08:00:00.000-05:00

What I Did On My Summer Vacation. Second Edition.

2009-09-03T08:00:00.001-05:00

What I Did On My Summer Vacation. First Edition.

2009-09-02T19:14:00.002-05:00

SoulPerSuit is Beginning a New Study

2009-08-17T15:04:00.002-05:00

SoulPerSuit is starting up a new fall study group and you're invited!

September 7, 2009 kicks off Kona with Jonah
We're excited because we'll be going through Sandra Glahn's new Coffee Cup Study "Kona with Jonah". It's available for free shipping when you purchase $25 so now's the time to bundle your order with the new "Frappé with Philippians" and another Coffee Cup you've been wanting.

*Amazon.com has been a little slow on releasing and shipping this book, so if we have to push back the date because no one has their book yet, I'll be sure to let you know. As long as you'll be sure to let me know you want to join our study. ;) *

80 F on 8/6

2009-08-06T16:34:00.004-05:00

It's 80 degrees on August 6th.
80 degrees on August 6th.

And I let the dark chocolate slowly melt
in my mouth

that is hotter than the air
While drowsing in my lawn chair.

Bare feet. Cool grass.
Early morning. Late night.

No four walls for me
'cause it's
80 F on 8/6

Stir Constantly Until Well-Blended

2009-07-23T22:06:00.003-05:00

Sometimes you sit at the dining room table amidst the crumbs
And crack open the stack of cookbooks
You flip through the pages containing hearty fixin's, low-cal dinners, all-around crowd pleasers
One dish casseroles.

You scan photos for teasers of yummy things to come
Glossy 5X7s of the holiday roast in all its glory, the batch of cookies ready to surprise your neighbor with grace
Hand-drawn illustrations to lead you through the process
Just so.

You dream and conjure, read and imagine, visualize your shopping list
While you sip your coffee- Elbows pressing table top crumbs
Scratching down ideas
Boning up on your kitchen smarts

Sometimes you sit at the dining room table amidst an open stack of cookbooks
But sometime you have to walk into the kitchen
And cook.

Field Trip- Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

2009-07-21T08:45:00.007-05:00

Recommendations for an excellent field trip:

Discover God's delightful artistry

Make some artistry of your own, Mexican style

Enjoy the people you love

Play quietly, contentedly and contemplatively with found objects

Cut loose, just a little bit

Go for a walk, a jog, a hike, a stroll- as many times as possible

Buy a small momento

Read a book... take a nap

Swim, swim, swim, and swim some more

Read another book... take another nap

Surrender to the beauty

Embrace the gifts you've been given

Welcome June

2009-06-01T17:17:00.006-05:00

June reminds me of something I forget every winter--
Shade is different from
regular air
Shade falls from trees heavy--
Full of shadows from so many yesterdays

A quiet hiding place for long-lost
midnight breezes

Shade is where you go
to think the thoughts
that come from cooler, dimmer shores

Another hot day
And when the sun goes down
relief from the searing heat
comes from the ground up.

Every blade of grass
cools off one by one

And when I walk into the meadow at
the end of the day I can feel the
Twilight
on my ankles.

When Wanderers Cease to Roam; A Traveler's Journal of Staying Put - Vivian Swift

Wedded

2009-05-21T21:11:00.007-05:00

My girls had the honor of attending one of their idols, our cousin, Rebecca, in her wedding.

The bride and her father take their last measured steps together
as they approach the wedding altar.

Imagine what they must be sharing in these last moments.

Cue flower girls...

A lovely junior bridesmaid. Still a child. Becoming woman.

New shoes? Or grass in your toes?
(Is that a real question?)

The Bride with her father.

The Bride with her Bridegroom.

Self-Check on Obedience

2009-04-27T14:31:00.008-05:00

Do you demand to be paid? Try to work a deal? Say, "Only if..."?

Did you follow through completely? Make sure you understood what was expected?

How is your heart? Was there much foot stomping involved? Are you willing to serve?

Did you say, "Hold on a minute, Mommy"? Was an excuse offered? Were you prompt?

Is there any such thing as a 4-way Venn diagram? I don't even know.
We tried our hand at it anyway and had a great role play/hopscotch/discussion about obedience.

Five year old learning to spell it.

How often can any of us really stand in all four circles at once?

Oh, this mom is so very convicted.

Obedience- Kings and Queens II- Running the Gauntlet

2009-04-21T09:40:00.001-05:00

Hi! It's me again! (Ellie is my name if you forgot.)
We had a unit on kings & queens.
We studied knights, and the way they obeyed their rulers, so we had a gauntlet for knight training.

This is the DEADLY WEBKINZ dodging arena. Sir M. is taking the test.

This is the GLOOP PIT, where daring men jump. Sir S. takes a triumphant jump over it!

Now, we move on to the LAVA PIT with rocks. Sir B. leaps from rock-to-rock & makes it!

The JUMP WALL & I, Sir Ellie, am clearing a jump.

Back to the LAVA PIT where Sir A. is working on it.

Ah, the DEADLY WEBKINZ, where Sir S. is.

And lastly Sir R. in the TUNNEL OF DEATH!

Well, our tour is done. good-bye!
:-)

Field Trip- Seneca Schoolhouse Museum

2009-04-15T08:00:00.000-05:00

Hello! This is Rebekah. I want to tell you all about a field trip I went on.
My sister and I went to a place called Seneca Schoolhouse. We pretended we were
children from 1880. We had different names than what we were usually called.
Such as, I was called Mary, my sister, Elizabeth, better known as Ellie,
was called Ella. We had biographies to. My father
was supposed to own the livery stable, Ella's father was supposed to
be a stone cutter.
So, come on!
I'll show you what it was like in a one room schoolhouse!

This is the school yard.

This is Mary.

This is the whole class.

This is Ella.

She is very sweet, but has a fiery temper.

This is Miss Darby.

During the school hours, we did math, reading,
and a spelling bee! I was 5th from the last one out.
The girl next to me, Blanche or, Hannah, won the
spelling bee! She chose a soapstone pencil as
her prize. But, she got a bonus prize:
A SLATE!!

This right here is reading time.

Oh! I want to tell you about punishment
back then. One of the things that you could
get punished for is being left-handed.
Boys got it much worse than girls, though.
If you were being spanked, you had to pull down your pants
in front of the whole class! Girls were swatted with a ruler,
while boys had to, when they were in trouble,
go and get a willow branch. But, sometimes the
boys would carry around pocket knifes,
and would whittle a small hole in the
branch so it would break when they
were swatted.

This is reading time, Ella is reading out loud.
We read from the McGuffy's 3rd Reader,
and we were reading about birds.

I hope you enjoyed my tour.
I look forward to see you again,
Bye! ;)

Obedience- Kings and Queens I

2009-04-13T08:00:00.001-05:00

Welcome to the Kingdom of Yebo, a dominion in which all subjects readily and cheerfully submit to their leaders. Or at least, they are learning to.
A kingdom where, for lack of better ideas, the leaders sometimes just spell certain words backwards and it comes out pretty darned good. ;)

Our kingdom's motto and coat of arms.
Obey your leaders and submit to them. Proverbs 13:17
Colors and symbols representing wisdom, peace, strength and (of course) Ireland. (Of course?)

The armory. Please check all weaponry at the door upon arrival.

Every Yeboan has their own family crest handed down through the generations. It is a matter of extreme pride to know one's ancestral line.

They've all descended from the Yeboan cousins we don't like to talk about publicly.

Loyal Yeboans making their own crown jewels.

A dashing young prince.

Lady Blondilocks of Yebo.

Yeboan coronation ceremony. We're not very formal in this nation. Sometimes we don't even wear shoes.
But crowns. Always wear the crown.

Good Friday Reflections

2009-04-10T14:30:00.006-05:00

Benvenuto di Giovanni, 1491

--------------------

Behold the man upon the cross
My guilt upon His shoulders...
Why should I gain from his reward?
I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom.

- How Deep the Father's Love For Us, Stuart Townsend

--------------------

He was assigned a grave with the wicked... though he had done no violence.
He poured out his life unto death... and made intercession for the transgressors.
Isaiah 53: 9-10 (my paraphrase)

--------------------

Should have been mine
This role, that hole.
Grave Assignment

Buzzing. Juicing. Pulped.

2009-03-16T16:19:00.008-05:00

Our home has been abuzz with school this month. I know the hive has seemed quiet, but let me assure you that all the bees here are hard at work learning latitude and longitude, writing research papers comparing the different breeds of horses, finding lowest common denominators, and determining when to drop the -y and add -ies.

Our weekly jaunt to the library turned up a great little poetry book by Carol Diggory Shields, called, Brain Juice: English, Fresh Squeezed! Here are a few nuggets we've enjoyed.

--------------------
Rools
Spelling rools, spelling rools
I think that they were made by fules,
I study them until I druel.
(And drueling is not very kewl.)
I study them at home and skool.
I think these ruels are very crool.

(My mid-kid would SO agree! Oh, the trippy English language.)
--------------------

Poetry Assignment #3: Blank Verse
I love blank verse
Because
It does not
Have to
Rhyme.
At long, long last
I can write
A poem
About
An
Orange.

(Blank verse= Declaration of Poetic Independence!)
--------------------

This one is for all the writers who meander down pathways that at first seemed so well-lit with logic and clarity, only to find that someone turned out the lights while we stopped to check our map.

The Outline
I. Outlines can really help you out,

A. When your thoughts
1. Are muddled and
2. Scattered about.
B. When it's time to write,
1. But you don't have a clue and,
2. Your research makes no sense to you,

II. Start writing those numerals,
A. Roman- style.
B. You'll discover
1. That in a while,
2. Those mixed-up notes
3. (That you've been dreading)
4. Each will have its own subheading.

III. At the final entry, called conclusion,
A. You will feel much less confusion.
B. And you will find, to your surprise,
C. Your paper just got organized!

--------------------

Thank you, Ms. Shields. We've enjoyed the fresh squeezed brain juice (even though some of it is our own poor noggin pulp) and are ready to buzz back to the work table.

Book Winner: Amy

2009-02-27T09:40:00.004-05:00

Congratulations to Amy!
You won the free copy of Leading Women Who Wound.

From reading everyone's comments, this is a very timely book. Many of you are entering into ministry, in the midst of a conflict (be it large or small), or can think back on a time when a conflict was not resolved well. Some of us can probably think back to a time when we were that wounding woman.

The more I read this book, the more I realize how mysterious and multi-layered the human psyche really is. Women take conflict personally, don't we? (In very broad strokes) if a friend criticizes a decision we've made, our tendency is to view that as a criticism of our entire being: our marriage, our fashion sense, our parenting skills, our political views, the kind of car we drive, our intelligence, even our theology. As Kelley and Sue put it, "Your rejections extends to the depths of who I am."

Conflict is not a bad thing. (Eeek! Did I just write that?) It's firstly, unavoidable and secondly, often paves the way for real growth and bonding within ministry relationships. Jesus doesn't want us to be discouraged by conflict and has given us clear instructions about overcoming damaging conflict. He expected stormy seas. So should we.

All of that is to say that I really wish I had free copies of this book to send to each of you. Sue and Kelley have gathered an invaluable resource of insight and experience in their books about women's ministry. Please do yourself and your ministry a favor and invest in this book.*

Amy, send me your mailing address and I'll put your copy of Leading Women Who Wound in the mail ASAP.

* I also highly recommend Sue and Kelley's first book, New Doors in Ministry to Women. This is a foundational book for women's ministry. I've loaned my copy out many times, and put one in the hands of each woman on the leadership board of our church. It's a great book to discuss as a group while you're praying for vision and setting goals for your women's minsitry. And if you've got conflict in your midst, New Doors might provide you insight into aspects of ministry you'd not considered before.

Invitation: SoulPerSuit doing Java with the Judges

2009-02-22T21:44:00.007-05:00

SoulPerSuit is hitting the books and art supplies again this spring!

Through the months of March, April and May, we'll be hosting a group venturing through the book of Judges using, Java with the Judges, from the Coffee Cup Bible Study Series, by Sandra Glahn.

I sure would love it if you'd join us. All you need is a Bible, your imagination, a copy of Java with the Judges, and Internet access.
We'll be hosting the Judges SPS group in the blogosphere again (it seemed to work really well when we did it over Christmas so we're going to take another crack at it), BUT you do not need to have your own blog to participate. If you don't write to a blog, don't let that stop you; SoulPerBlog serves as a quasi-art studio/coffee house/bean bag laden discussion room. We'll brew up some cyber cafe mochas and green tea over there so everyone can enjoy the dialogue in the comments section.

Get your Java with the Judges book here (and get it quick 'cause we're kicking off March 3):
Amazon
Borders
BooksChristian.com (<< cheapest I've seen it)

And stop by SoulPerBlog to let us know to fluff up a bean bag for you!

Leading Women Who Wound

2009-02-19T22:18:00.001-05:00

My friend, Kelley Mathews, has co-authored a book that I think you'd like to know about. It's called, Leading Women Who Wound, and again, she teamed up with Sue Edwards for this one. What a great writing team they make. I have every book these two women have written (which amounts to a tidy little library by now) because they focus on a topic near to my heart-- ministering to women.

This newest book deals with the tough subject of women in ministry who don't interact with one another in godly ways. Setting the groundwork early on, Edwards and Mathews write, "The flesh is real-- even in Christians. We don't talk about these inner tensions because Christian women are supposed to be nice... As we mature spiritually, we learn to overcome, to celebrate with others, and to shackle our dark side. But everyone is at a different place in the process-- and emotionally immature and diseased women act out of their flesh. Expect it. To think otherwise is naive."

Using Jesus and the Apostle Paul as examples of ministers who often experienced conflict, these gals let us know we are in good company when we, too, get rubbed the wrong way, or worse. Sometimes much worse.

From criticism, to personal attacks, to church politics, Leading Women Who Wound discusses some of our motivations in female conflict, how to prepare to encounter conflict, how to spot wounding women, how to disarm the situation, how to love women, and how to make Biblical peace with a sister (not just brushing things under the rug, but moving the relationship to a new level). This is a good book!

Guess what: Kelley sent me an extra copy! If you lead a MOPS group, a women's Bible Study or a small group, if you'd like to gift your women's pastor with a useful book, if you're earning a counseling or seminary degree, if you just plain love women and want to see them grow in the image of Jesus, then leave your name in the comments section and I'll draw a winner on Friday, Feb 27th. Then you, too, can begin your own tidy little library of Edwards and Mathews books.*

* Be sure to visit their ministry website for loads of good resources, New Doors: Equipping Women for Biblical Leadership

Two Things

2009-02-13T17:48:00.003-05:00

The first, just a funny exchange that's kept me laughing all afternoon.

The kids and I were outside enjoying a post-winter, pre-spring day today. After we'd walked the perimeter of our yard and picked up armloads of branches blown down by the windstorms, pulled up all the dead roots of last year's vegetable garden, plotted homes for our spinach and sweet pea seeds, played a few games of tag, pushed each other on the swing, walked to the mailbox, had a scooter race, and stirred the compost, some of us got the great idea to play frisbee.

Youngest daughter dug the frisbee out of the toy bin, oldest sister took a position, I paced off a good tossing distance and called over my shoulder to the middle girl, "Hey Babe, wanna come play frisbee with us?"

"Uh, no, not really. I can't. I have an appointment. With some mud."

Oh, then. By all means. :)

----------------------------------------------------------

The other thing is a great discussion question Sandi asks over on SoulPerBlog. I don't know exactly why, but I love things like this.
Old stuff. Stories. Stories about old stuff. Old stuff you have and the stories you know. Stuff you know about old stories. Stories and old stuff.
Yep, I love it all. And I'd sure be interested to read your answer, so I'm inviting you to head over there and write something. You might have an interesting story amongst your old stuff.

----------------------------------------------------------

appointments with mud must be kept at all cost

Divine: The Sprite

2009-02-09T16:14:00.007-05:00

Meet the culprit in the Broken Santa incident.

She's turning 5 years old today.

I love her dearly. So dearly.

Today, I reflect that the joy and delight she brings to our home far outshines a paltry Superglue-repaired salt dough Santa (or any other thing I think I care about).

His face glows jaundiced with primary school tempera paints.

Her face glows with sprightliness.

I think we shall indeed live happily ever after- despite what breaks among us;
this Sprite, the Broken Santa and me.

Sleepy and Brave, but NOT Fair

2009-02-05T21:03:00.005-05:00

Our family is prepping to launch into a unit study on Kings and Queens, so we've been quite dreamy and enamored with all things medieval.

Tonight, I waxed chivalrous, kissed my daughter, and beseeched the fair maiden sweet slumber.

Her response:

"I'm not a fair maiden. I'm Joan of Arc!"

SoulPerSuit Mini-group

2009-02-02T18:13:00.003-05:00

SoulPerSuit is starting it's next theme, running the entire month of February.
January was dedicated to examining the idea of "decay." Now it's time to dip our toes in to the "divine."

I invite you to come and join us. Poetry, knitting, calligraphy, claymation, music videos, playing card art... it's all welcome in the creative hopper. Let's offer ourselves to the molding hand of God and see what comes out!

Details are over at SoulPerBlog.

Broken and Beautiful: The Damoff's Story

2009-01-29T09:25:00.003-05:00

I could not have planned a better time to read Parting the Waters, by Jeanne Damoff.

Lately, I have been examining the effects of decay upon my particularly occupied patch in this universe (I assure you that as a melancholy, this comes quite naturally) and find myself now on the cusp of drinking deeply and refreshingly of the divine nature that tempers the world's decay. (As a contemplative, I relish the opportunity to bask in the beautiful good.)

Parting the Waters illuminates the notion that decay and divine work in tandem, complimenting one another, providing a teamwork approach to leading us into deeper understanding of God. But we have to be open to looking for it, expecting God to show Himself.

Jeanne's story starts at an end. The end of her eldest son, Jacob. Or Jacob-as-he-was, rather.
At 15 years old, his near drowning and subsequent brain injuries thrust Jeanne and her family into the murky waters of doubt and trust. It held them under, gasping for breath.

This was the end of easy faith.
The end of a pretty, gift-wrapped theology.
The end of passing familiarity with the God of widows and orphans.

I cried in almost every chapter of this book. Jeanne's accounts of the Divine reaching His hand through to her broken, breaking and suffocating family... words fail to describe the rush in my heart to read His acts of goodwill toward them. The God of widows and orphans met them in the doorway of their pain. He drew them near, got down on His knee and looked them in the eye as He tenderly ministered to their wounded hearts. And in the case of Jacob, his wounded body. Real hands, audible voices, wet tears- visible and tangible ministrations surrounded the Damoffs. God was moving through His people.

I cried when Jacob's body was revived. When Jacob made his first voluntary movement. The first time he laughed. I cried at his silent weeping as music moved his soul. When doctors and family saw small signs that he is still "in there." When Jacob said, "Mom."
I cried when he walked. When he got on a horse. I cried that he could eat a bowl of cereal. When his quiet presence ministered to others - just his being there with them- I teared up.
When he quipped, "Shoot me now!" Yep, I even cried at that point. (It was hysterical and thrilling to my mother's heart to see his quirky personality bubble back up to the surface. I have quirky kids of my own, Jeanne, so I delighted with you over this. Why just say "Ow" when you can holler "Shoot me now!" The effect is much more grand.)

Jacob Damoff, a young man who's outside appears a picture of decay and loss, reveals that the God who breathed life into Him is not finished glorifying Himself through him. The Divine in the Decayed.

Yeah, I was a mess from all the beauty. A beautiful mess. Which is a darned good way to be, I think.

One special touch that I am immensely enjoying are the personal accounts of many who have been impacted by Jacob's accident and the years since. This was not an isolated story, just for Jeanne to tell. It affected mother, father, husband and wife, sister and brother, best friends, pastors, school teachers, doctors, physical therapists, park rangers, students and complete strangers. Reading their own words of how God has met them intimately through Jacob's drowning knits my heart to this small arm of the Bride of Christ. Through them all, I know the God of orphans and widows better today.

Thank you George, Grace and Luke, in particular, for articulating how God has hovered attentively over your lives. Someday, that Great Someday, when Jacob's body might better cooperate with his will, I would love to hear Jacob himself tell how the Lord has hovered over him all these years. I bet I'll cry then too.

--------------------------

Now that I'm at the end of this book, I'm asking myself the question,
"These things our flesh understands and defines as decay- broken bodies, broken spirits, broken relationships- could they really be instead, the Divine breaking through to reach in and release us from our decay? Is it possible that decay might be a part of salvation?"

-------------------------

Above the book title are the words, "A True Story." This really did happen (and still is happening) to the Damoffs.
It's also A Truth Story. It's happening to all of us. Decay, wrapped in all it's losses, fears and pains, sets the stage perfectly for us to thrill at the climax of our faith story- God, the beautiful Divine.

Splintered: Willow Tree

2009-01-27T14:56:00.001-05:00

Our backyard is residence to a pair of lovely weeping willow trees.

Shopping for a new home nearly 4 years ago, my pulse quickened as I spied the mature, green giants waving in the spring breeze. Weeping willows are my favorites, hands down.

Part mobile- with each and every sinuous branch fluttering and flowing on the tickling wind.
Part sculpture- with those solid trunks sliding into the earth, embracing soil, rock and mineral. Supporting their own weight and grounding them firmly into their base, they are sculpture in the round.
Part watercolor- in the Spring, new leaves sneak out in shades of chartreuse and lemon. Wispy, soft and dream-like. I constantly want to bring a book down the hill to visit the dappled shade and kick off my shoes.
Part impressionist painting- Like a pleasant childhood memory, I'm never quite able to nail down where the leaves come from, or even when. How did they manage to burst onto the scene when I thought I'd been watching so carefully? And in the Fall... well, the leaves are just suddenly gone. (Perhaps I only had the impression the leaves were there?)

In winter though- oh the Winter!- the boughs and limbs take such a beating. Neighbors tell me we've had a couple of icier years than normal. Snow is not a problem, it's the ice rain. As beautiful as it is to see each individual twig encased in a crystalline sheath, our weeping willows simply cannot hold the weight.

We lost ten thigh-sized limbs last year. Already two this winter. I cry inside to watch the weeping boughs I love so much snap beneath their burden.
They're calling for freezing rain tonight.

Busted: The Blue Vacuum

2009-01-27T13:10:00.004-05:00

I'm not sure why I took a photo of the guts of our broken vacuum. Perhaps I sensed a pattern when it tanked just hours after the Santa episode.

Plastic shrapnel and acrid burning wire.
It was like a scene from an appliance war movie. Frightened villagers running for cover and all that.

The Blue Vacuum was not fancy. Steve and I bought it with gift monies from our wedding. We bought what we could afford, which wasn't much, but it was sufficient to suck up whatever found its way to the carpet of our tiny first apartment. Then the second apartment. And then our townhouse.
Then we got a couple of cats (and the fur and dander that goes with them.) The Blue Vacuum still held its own.
We had a baby. Then we had another baby. We moved into a house and doubled the square footage required of The Blue Vacuum.
And then had another baby.

Cheerios, cat fur, mud clumps, grass clippings, dead bugs, soon-to-be-dead bugs, an accidental shoelace or two, the edges of the rug (also accidental), and sometimes even it's own cord: The Blue Vacuum sucked it all with vim and vigor.

Then one day in December, 13 years later, it met entropy in a big way.

Broken: Santa

2009-01-16T18:00:00.005-05:00

SoulPerSuit's latest mini-group is examining the contrast between "decay" and "divine".

Our first creative thought-provoker is to take a photo of one thing in our life that is decaying. One thing?! Just one?!

(We joke that we ought to name our home "Entropy Estates" because of all that seems to fall apart around here.)

This is the Santa salt dough ornament I made in first grade, 1978. I distinctly remember painting his face yellow because it was the closest color to "skin tone" I could find in the elementary school paint tray. For 30 years this guy has hung near the top of our Christmas tree- first, in my parents' home, and when I got married, in my own home. I was very careful to keep Santa far away from little hands that might be overly zealous with tree decorating.

But then along came a three-year old...

I have to admit that I did not handle Santa's breakage like a sanctified mother. My spirit of Christmas shattered when Santa shattered.

Because I am broken as well.

Retrospective into the Future

2009-01-13T22:10:00.009-05:00

All of these artworks were built in 2008 by one artist

Interpreting the relationship between man and nature

Articulating a space

Defining an area

Combining found natural elements of moss and stone

Wildflower and fallen tree

Exploring a theme

Building a monument

The pleasure of raw ingredients in the hand

Potential unveiled

Stretching a medium to it's limit

Working to understand the elements

Contemplating the Next

(She most certainly did get Andy Goldsworthy's River and Tides for Christmas.)

Lavish Incense

2009-01-04T20:47:00.007-05:00

The Kings brought frankincense gifts to lay at the feet of the Christ child. Our prayers go up before the throne of God like sweet, burning incense. Yahweh, himself, specified the ingredients and uses for incense in temple worship. Something about that smell...

Tapped from trees in much the same way we obtain amber or even maple syrup, frankincense has been used for centuries in the middle east.
Unlike our pampered and tendered maple trees on a Vermont orchard however, the Botswellia trees that frankincense is drawn from are scraggly. Hardy. Windblown. Some grow in such harsh environs that they appear to sprout directly from the rock- bare roots clamped around anchoring boulders against the elements.

A picture of life outside of a garden.

Life outside of The Garden.

The frankincense is drawn by piercing or wounding the bark of the tree to cause the sap to rise and fill the fresh wound. The resulting hardened resin is referred to as tears.
Tears developed from wounding.
Wounding a tree that perilously clings to life outside The Garden.

These tears are what God wanted to smell always in his Temple. Generation after generation. These tears are what the wise kings carried as gifts to our young Emmanuel.
These same tears are how the Lord describes our prayers. Carried. Offered. Lifted up in worship. Something about that smell...

* The Agony in the Garden, Hans Leonhard Schaufelein, 1516
Lime panel, Munich

Contemplative KIDS Christmas IV- Cradled in Arms

2008-12-31T09:09:00.006-05:00

Last week I interviewed each of my kids to find out what they would cradle in their arms, if they had to choose. As they held their favorite things in their arms, they thought about the first Shuffle the Deck question from SoulPerBlog's Contemplative Christmas- Cradled in Arms and described their favorite cuddly thing to me.

What follows in red is their own response to the question, "What does being cradled in arms have to do with the Nativity?

Anna:

- This is my cow softie. I like it. It is so cozy. It is so I can suck my thumb. I like how it feels when it comes out of the dryer. It feels warm and cozy. It feels silky on one side and fuzzy on the other side. The silky side is where I suck my thumb.
I like to have my softie when I am tired and when I am sad. Also when I'm happy and when I get up, and I like it so much because I cuddle with it and I like it sooo soooooo much.
- I also like to snuggle with Daddy because it's so great and so cozy. Daddy feels warm and cozy.

Mary cradled Baby Jesus on her lap so he could be warm and cozy. If she didn't hold him he would have to by laying on his hay and he would cry, "Mommy, Mommy! Come and carry me!"
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Ellie:

- Pip, my stuffed panda and Fuzzy, my stuffed elephant
- They are soft and cuddly. They are light, especially when they’re out of my hand and flying through the air.
- I like to play with them a lot and make Fuzzy wiggle his tail. I make Pip go, “Please, please, please!” when he is begging for something with his face turned up.
- I got Fuzzy for Christmas. I bought Pip with my own money because I thought he was the cutest Webkinz I could ever find. I love them because they’re both really, really cute. They are brother and sister. We play babysitting with them. I play capture with them and tie them up in bandanas. They don’t have a breathing pattern because they are stuffed animals. They’re not alive, but I make them talk and do things.
- Since I got them, Pip has gotten dirtier and they’ve both gotten some rips on them. I fixed Fuzzy’s, but Pip still needs to be sewn up.

Hi! this is Ellie here. I want to tell you what I think about cradled in arms and what it has to do with Christmas. well this is what I think:
1. Mary would have cradled Jesus in her arms.
2.she felt love.
3.she thought:it's SSSSOOOO! cold. I wish I could go insi...oh! now I remember there is no room in the inn.

Rebekah:

- Lady, my stuffed golden retriever
- She feels like a pound or so. The texture is sorta rough because she is not smooth. It’s not, like, really slick.
- I’ve had her for six years and chewed on her nose, so it is white where the paint came off. It’s supposed to be black.
- She didn’t come with a collar so we made one for her out of a hair ribbon. It makes her look sorta like a clown.
- I like to snuggle with her probably because I’ve had her so long. She is one my my favorite stuffed animals. I even carry her by her tail. She gives me somebody to talk to. I talk to her when I get in trouble and tell her how I feel. I always feel as if she’s listening.
- One of the reasons I like her so much is because my Grandma gave her to me.

I feel that how Jesus cradles us in his arms is because he loves us and is used to how we act. So, because he loves us and cares about us, he cradled us in his arms. It's simply because he loves us.

Cradled in Arms

2008-12-30T09:27:00.006-05:00

Last week I tried no less than 5 times to write this blog post- Cradled in Arms.

Five failed attempts to gather my thoughts for public consumption indicates to me that I have here bumped into something quite uncontainable. A red warning light is flashing "Mental Meltdown Alert" in the corner of my eye.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Cradled in Arms.
It's such a quiet, genteel image. Sweet and tender, mellow and still.

At this time of year, my own home is sprinkled with nativity scenes depicting Mary holding the Christ child in a tender embrace with Joseph, shepherds and wise men gathered around in frozen expressions of awed surprise and adoration.
None of them are sobbing. None of them are struck dead. None of them seem to adopt a pose that cries, "Woe to me! I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty." Isaiah 6:5

It shocks me that the Lord Almighty veiled his glory to such a degree that humanity could look upon him and even hold him, flesh against flesh, as we would hold any other normal human.
How could they bear to stand up? To keep their balance? Wasn't the breath sucked out of them? How were they not struck dead on the spot?!
Did their faces glow like Moses'? Didn't they blubber over themselves, even just a little? (Especially Mary and Joseph- who'd had 9 months to grapple with the concept of parenting "Yahweh in the Flesh," which seems to me to be one of those things that the more you think about it, the more freaked out you get.) Did the stable animals recognize their Creator in that tiny child? Was there a cacophany of bleating, lowing, squawking creatures worshipping their Maker?
How exactly does this happen that the Holy God of the Universe steps down into His creation and takes on the form of a human- veils His glory- to such a degree that it barely registers as a blip on the screen? To hold Himself back to the degree that only those who get a direct visitation from the heavenlies know what's going on... what might! What strength and wisdom.

Commanding presence with grace eternal. What tender love!

I can barely fathom that He allowed us to cradle him in our arms.

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Cradled in Arms.
It's such a quiet, genteel image. Sweet and tender, mellow and still.

The past month I've been reviewing my world history classes in my mind. Zeus, Hunab-Ku, Odin, Ra, Yingarna, Jupiter, Bochica, Buddha and Artemis. These gods, goddesses and dieties created by centuries of our collective imaginations in order to define our existence on this planet. To explain how we got here, why it hurts so bad to be here, what we're supposed to be doing while we're here, what happens when we leave here... The human race is looking for answers.

Seriously though, the answers we've created for ourselves are dreary! None of these gods actually created us. We crawled out of their beard, or formed from a tear mixed with sunlight, or resulted from an unholy union between gods and humans. Many accounts say the instruction manual for Creation was just plain confusing so the gods passed creation duties off to the tortoise, the wolf, or the spider. Creatures being creatures, I suppose they hodge-podged things together the best they could.
Frankly, none of the gods even know how they came to be. Their pedigree is suspect.

And so, once the gods and humanity get thrown together someone has to call the shots.
For milennia, they've been shaking their heads at the mess of humanity- unable to make sense of what we're doing, powerless to make it better, dissatisfied with the results. Eternally frustrated, they spend their time tossing lightning bolts, disguising themselves as animals to carouse in towns and villages, demanding our children and our wealth as sacrifices, sowing their wild oats with dieties and humans alike. Sometimes gracing us with good weather and bountiful harvests.
Some gods sit on high mountaintops and sip the juice of the universe. They don't cause us any harm, but it's not like they're involved either. (Not that they would have a solution if hiked up there to ask them.)

They are wolf-toothed, ox-tailed, goat-headed, lion-bodied
Raven-winged, monkey-eyed, snake-haired
Cloud-clothed, rain-haired, thunder-voiced
Flame-faced
Clay-footed.

The best humanity can make of its existence on earth is this: clay-footed gods.

It shocks me that there is another choice. Gratefully, I say that.

There is another God.
One who existed before all time who's pedigree answers to no one. A God who was perfectly content with the Triune company He kept, yet purposed Creation as an expression of that fellowship and love. He wanted to make us. He created us Himself and called His creation good. He hovered over this Creation as a mother bird nurtures her chicks. He kept us in the shadow of His wings.
This God watched when His creation chose its own path away from Him, but He never once threw His hands up in shock or disbelief. He gave us a chance to reconcile right then and there- mercy.
He had a plan and a desire to redeem Creation from the very beginning- grace.

His plan was more audacious than any diety could possibly conceive. To lay aside His glory, His might, His purity, His position- and seek out His wandering Creation.
To know us by experience.
To know us by name.
To know me by name.
To call my name. In whispers. In shouts. In heartbeats. In tears. In sunlight. In waves. In seen and unseen.

How utterly, utterly unlike any other god. Who is like Him?

Commanding presence with grace eternal. What tender love!

I can barely fathom that He came here to cradle us in His arms.

Contemplative KIDS Christmas III- Singing

2008-12-19T13:18:00.004-05:00

Even though there is only one person actually singing, making this music video required harmony. After each take, we reviewed the footage, discussed what could be done better, edited out, drawn to the forefront, enunciated.
This was our third take.

Creative vision shared. Moving toward the same goal. Purposeful action. Agreement.

I wonder what the Trinity discussed at the dawn of Creation. I wonder how they agreed on a course of action immediately after the Fall. I wonder how the angelic throngs shouted and cheered to witness The Plan set in motion. I wonder how the Three-In-One could have withstood being separated at the cross. I wonder what the end of this universal drama will feel like.
I know it will be complete harmony.
And it'll be perfect on the first take.

Like Trying to Wipe Off the Warmth of the Sun

2008-12-17T17:59:00.007-05:00

This year has not been one for smashing records of victorious Christian living.
Not for me anyway.

I have found myself surrounded by a deepening gray fog.
At times anyway.

And sinking in the goopy mire of self-talk, self-help, self-interest.
My defunct self-self.

The battlefield of my mind is the horizon that stretches before me. As far as the east is from the west.
Seems that big anyway.

I lost my dad-in-law. And at the time it did not matter to me where his soul went because at least his earthly pain was finally over.
Finally over.
That's how I felt at the time, anyway.

A very dear friend confessed deep skepticisms about the truth of Scripture. The stuff that is the very foundation of my faith. I have been rocked and shaken.
Wandering for a year in a fog that occasionally seems to lift.
A fair bit, anyway.
--------------------

Standing on the battleground as the fog rolls in.

I will not be so noble as to pretend I don't want to be rescued.

I know I am weak for this.
--------------------

But there is a Bright Light. He burns of his own accord and does not wait for me to acknowledge Him before he radiates in my circumstance.
He is radiating.
He is bioluminescence.
He is burning off the fog.
He is lighting this battlefield in the blazed whiteness of day.
He is burning the image of Himself upon my retinas- so that He is the thing I see no matter where I cast my gaze.
He is drying the miry clay until it cracks and peels and blows into fine granules upon the wind.

So even though the year has found me cold, mired, bewildered and beleaguered...
At times...

Denying the truth of this Bright Light would be like trying to wipe off the warmth of the sun.

--------------------
Press play on the MP3 player to hear my not-so-traditional Christmas song offering: Never Alone, Barlow Girl

Contemplative KIDS Christmas I- Barn Smells

2008-12-05T11:10:00.001-05:00

Hi! This is Ellie & Rebekah.

We want to tell about a little thing we did.
We, our family did a little thing together,
starting with some cookies....

Okay, we've got to tell you....
We were pretending that the cookies were manure!!!!
And then we played with the PLAY MOBILE nativity set.
We pretended that it was the very 1st Christmas.

I bet the cattle likes the food!!!!

Ellie says:"What about the donkey????!!!
Doesn't he like it too???!!!"
We hope you like our blog!!
Good-bye!!!
"Boo-hoo-hoo!"
----------------------------------------

Hi! This is Rebekah!
I want to tell you about another part of our project.
My mom & I went to a stable to document all the smells there.
What it smells like to me is homey & comfterble.
Like hay & horses, & like leather.

----------------------------------------

Jesus was born in a stable and a stable is like a barn. Stables smell bad. They have lots of animals and their droppings. I think that Jesus was really, really humble to go and be born in a stable with all the droppings. It represents that he wanted to come as a humble child.
If he had been born in a hospital or a house, people would think he was more honorable. But he wanted to come and be humble for us because if you are born in a stable people wouldn't think of you as very mighty. - Ellie

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By Anna,
who really likes to hear the keyboard clicking away

----------------------------------------

No-Bake Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies
(featured at the nether-ends of our nativity animals above, but if you find that gratuitous you can just put them on a festive plate)

2 cups sugar
¼ cup cocoa
1 stick butter
½ cup milk
½ cup peanut butter
1 tsp. vanilla
3 cups oatmeal

Bring sugar, cocoa, peanut butter and milk to rolling boil. Take it off the heat and add the 3 other ingredients. Stir well. Drop by spoonfuls on waxed paper to harden.

Gratuitous

2008-12-04T23:12:00.005-05:00

Gratuitous

Would it be gratuitous to linger here
Ankle deep in manure?
To rest my eyes, engage my brain
Fixing on the burn in my nostrils?
To nudge a pile with my toe,
Revealing the ripest aroma,
Seeking the rawest of raw in this stable?

Is it superfluous that we lean,
Faces hovered over rotting compost?
Digging, churning, turning
Unearthing decay and fermentation?
Prodding the layers, loosening the debris
While searching for words to describe its offense?

An un-called-for experiment
This ancillary venture
When matters of pressing importance
And the delicacy of polite society
Apply their subtle pressure.

Perhaps it is
Gratuitous.

But I am arrested.
Stopped. Still.
And the question lives in my head like the acrid smell lives in my nose-

Was it gratuitous that He should linger here
Ankle deep in our manure?
To rest His eyes and engage His brain
Fixing His heart toward those that burn His nostrils?
To embrace fallen man through His presence here?
Revealing our ripest aroma,
Seeking to save the rawest of the raw?

Was it superfluous that He leaned down
Face-first into our rotting man-culture?
Digging, churning, turning
Unearthing decay and fermentation?
Prodding through my layers, loosening the debris
Supplying words, impelling my search- despite my offense?

An un-called-for experience
This ancillary venture
When faces of holiness and glory
And the divinity of heavenly society
Enjoy unsullied communion.

Messiah. Emmanuel.
Gratuitous.

* For SoulPerSuit's Contemplative Christmas: Week 1: Barn Smells

Wisdom Reads Books- Lots of 'Em!

2008-11-27T21:04:00.004-05:00

Have you heard of this subscription service, Solomon Summaries?

I'm a homeschool mom. I have a full-time job educating my children. I'm also a "regular" mom. Which means I have a full-time job keeping up with laundry, lunches, new shoes, dance recitals, and tooth brushing. Full-time job, times two.

Free time for me to read is next-to-nothing.
Free time for me to select quality books to read on topics I'm interested in is next to next-to-nothing. It just doesn't exist in my universe these days.

Then along comes Solomon Summaries and offers me an opportunity to read a summary of the many books I've thought, "Someday when my kids are brushing their own teeth, I'd like to see what that book is like. And that one. And that one too. Oooooh, THAT one sounds good, add it to the list!" (Can you see I have a problem on my hands? I like to read a lot of books but I have pesky Teske teeth to brush.)
Now I can read the 8-10 page summary and decide if a particular title can stay on my post-tooth-brushing-era list, or if it's mandatory that I drop all toothbrushes and get that book on my bedside table ASAP.

A couple of books I'm keen to read are, The Sacred Echo and The Organic God, both by Margaret Feinberg.
Fancy that, Solomon Summaries has written about both of them! (Did you know I was going to say that?)

Confessions of a Contemplative- An Invitation

2008-11-24T20:55:00.003-05:00

It seems to happen every year. I start the Holiday season with high hopes of cutting back, trimming the calendar, spending the bulk of our time cozied up at home as a family, inhabiting the season in a worshipful and reflective fashion. Some December days are actually that- worshipful, reflective, homey, cozy.
But then there are other days when I think I’m my own worst enemy. I get my heart set on finding the perfect gift for my kids (and shopping for it for 8+ hours on-line!), or operating an elaborate Christmas cookie factory in my kitchen, or I simply get wound up in the dinner-dishes-out-the-door-to-Girl-Scouts-before-we’re-late routine.

December pushes and pulls me. I feel the need to push and pull too.
I’m looking for a way of stepping back and soaking in the ways Christ’s gift of Himself affects me.

I’d like to invite you to join me in setting aside the gingerbread men to gaze transfixed into our Savior’s infant eyes. SoulPerSuit is hosting a Christmas reflection group.
This SPS group is not intended to tax your already-packed holiday calendar. We offer it to you as an aid to pulling back from the quickened pace December takes… to breathe… to gaze… to ponder… to wonder as you wander.

To make your holidays holy days.

This season, I'm all about simple, focused worship. I think this SoulPerSuit Contemplative Christmas group is just that. And I'd love for you to join us. Details are on SoulPerBlog.

Never done a SoulPerSuit group before? Wonder what it's all about? Click here. Or here.

Tales from the Backseat

2008-11-24T14:19:00.003-05:00

Today, my middle daughter and I spied a half-finished office building beside the highway. It had no walls on any of it's three floors so we could see right through to the trees on the other side. Bright and naked light bulbs shimmered in the evening sleet.
Middle daughter asked why they still had all the lights on when no one was there working and I explained the need for security at work sites. Building materials left out in the open are very tempting to someone constructing a building of their own so the company probably leaves the lights shining so people like us can drive by and see if someone is swiping a bunch of 2 X 4s. It deters theft to leave the lights on. Light dispels darkness and dark deeds.

Imagination engaged, she then wove me a detailed scenario of how she would go about stealing the building supplies. She'd knock out all the lights (and any security cameras they might have installed), sneak tools and supplies down a secret hatch, then once she'd taken enough she'd rappel out of an enclosed room using rope she found on the site... I'd have thought she taken notes on the movie, Oceans 11, the way she was describing it.

Dismayed at my daughter's future life of crime, I tried a sideways approach to dissuade her- "Wow, Honey, it sounds to me like you have it all planned out. I 'm beginning to think you've been planning to heist some building supplies for a long time."

Her response: "Naw. I don't build."

Hello Again, Goodbye Again

2008-11-13T17:32:00.005-05:00

My first footsteps in this place were care of you
Your special hidey-holes, your favorite vistas
The undulating curve of shoreline
Sheer rock face jutting up towards infinity
And down to who-knows-where

You held them out to anyone inclined to interest
Accepting your excited joy
Those who cared enough to gut it out
And I was, indeed, impressed and touched

We bring you back in bits and pieces now
Scattering on the sand and breeze
In your hidey-holes and favorite vistas

Sheer rock face weeping infinite tears
They seem to know you're here
Seem to weep for their loss
Weeping in welcome
They are glad to see you again
Glad you won't be leaving again

And down to the depths of who-knows where
Scary to think where these little things settle
A mysterious landscape beneath lapping waves of light
Secrets held forever in darkness that does not breathe

This one who looks so much like you
His undulating curves of shoreline
The hidey-holes of his heart
Weep for you like the jutting cliffs
Infinitely
And depths that settle who-knows-where

He comes back here, gutting it out
Scattering bits and pieces of himself on the sand and breeze
Saying hello again
Saying goodbye again

His first footsteps here were care of you
And I am, indeed, impressed and touched

:From one year ago:

Young Encouragers

2008-11-02T20:57:00.005-05:00

You are going to, aren't you?

Trading Pit

2008-11-01T13:43:00.002-05:00

Well, the American economy may be tanking but the Trick-Or-Treat Candy Trade is doing brisk business on my front porch today.

FieldTrip: Mt. Vernon

2008-10-19T20:28:00.006-05:00

The place where it all began. Our long and illustrious line of presidents, that is.
The facade of this home is gorgeous!

Such a fine day for a field trip. This was only last week too! 70 degrees and sunny.

We came upon a woman sewing clothing for one of Mr. Washington's slaves. She showed us the contents of her sewing basket and engaged the kids in a logic puzzle.

In the Upper Garden, an archaeological dig underway to determine the footprint of the original gardens and paths. Fascinating stuff to this wannabe archaeologist.

Middle daughter snapped this photo of what she affectionately called, "Brain Flower."
(Also known as "celosia" or "cockscomb")

The Washington family hosted several foreign dignitaries and American founding fathers at their Mt. Vernon plantation.
If I were invited to stay, and they suddenly ran out of beds...

... I'd happily sleep in the greenhouse.

Family Race III: President Over All *

2008-10-16T18:13:00.001-05:00

* Alternate title: The Parade of Goobers

Finally, I expose my own embarrassing high hopes for power and prestige. And yet, the chinks in my armor are so darned apparent. I worked in the yard most of yesterday. I was given only one hour notice before I had to take the stage. I borrowed a powdered wig. I stole the American flag. I tried to posture like a politician. Mostly, I tried to be frank and honest. Don't voters want honest politicians?

But then... along came this landslide speech by my opponent.

Listen to the crowd. They love him.
I never even had a gasp of hope.

Family Race II: For a Congressional Seat in the House

2008-10-16T17:00:00.000-05:00

The kids decorated the sofa and curtains to be their stage. "It's our platform, Mom. We have to stand on it to say our speech."

After dinner last night, we spent a few minutes jotting down notes for our speeches. Some rushed around choosing a costume to wow the audience, while others decided to play the "I'm just a regular girl" card.

I'm so impressed. These two candidates had positively no input from anyone when they wrote their speeches.

Family Race I: For Supreme Judge of the House

2008-10-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

We had a ball last night. If the camera is jiggly, it's because I was laughing too hard.

Stiff competition for sure.

The Curmudgeon Vs. The Cutie

Cast your vote!

The Kitchen Reform Party

2008-10-15T15:52:00.006-05:00

So today's homeschool activity is an impromptu election. We held a candy election yesterday in our co-op, and the girls had such a fun time voting that they wanted to do it again. Happy to oblige them, I said to discuss what they wanted to vote on, to gather the candidates, make some ballots, set up the voting center, and we'd have an election when Daddy got home.

I thought maybe we would be voting for our favorite stuffed animal.
Or which dress looked the cutest on the Felicity doll.
Maybe what to have for dessert tonight.

C'mon Mom. Really.
Those are such small potatoes.

I have just duly been informed that we are setting up a household government. The middle two daughters are running for Household Congress. The youngest is running against her dad for the position of Supreme Judge. I am apparently on the ballot for the office of President of the Family. Running against my husband.
After dinner we will stump for our parties. We will debate the issues with our opponents. Then we will cast our free and democratic votes. I wonder who will win? Such an important election, you know.

One daughter asked me what political party I'm with.
Um, well, uh... since I didn't know I was running for office until 20 minutes ago... um... let me think... how about... The Kitchen Reform Party.

Dinner's in an hour. I better think up my campaign strategy. Any killer ideas?

VOTE FOR MOM

Proud to Be Demublicans

2008-10-10T16:08:00.000-05:00

Our KONOS wisdom unit has gathered our family at the debate table every morning, noon, and night.
I am honestly the least politically-minded person around. (So imagine living in the Washington DC area these days. (Yeah. Like Dorothy and Toto riding a house through a tornado.)) My brain does not readily grasp political spin-speak. I don't typically care one way or the other about watching debates or reading position papers, picketing, polling, or posturing.
I make sure to honor our democratic right to vote, every year. I vote my conscience. It's just that my conscience is often woefully uneducated when I walk into the voting center. (Like a lot of other Americans, I'm afraid.)

This year though, things are different. I'm teaching it. So I better know a little bit about what I'm teaching, right? I better care about the issues and platforms before I couch them in terms a 5th and 3rd grader, and a Pre-K kiddo can grasp, right? Right.
Though my brain is about to turn to mush over it, I'm totally enjoying our family debate table.

When teaching our future voters to make wise choices, I can get bogged down in the mudslinging, the emotion, the picking nits from someone's particular campaign weave, and the charged language surrounding an election, but sometimes the best indicators are as obvious as the sun in the sky. We need to learn to evaluate life with the Lord's wisdom.

Here is a significant question floating around our house these days:

- Can a person's character be separated from how they act in office? Should it?

To quote a very good book, "Even a child is known by his actions."

FieldTrip: Geocaching

2008-10-09T14:05:00.007-05:00

Arm child with a hand-held GPS system and the coordinates for a hidden treasure, care of Geocaching.com.
Orienteering and map reading skills.

Follow GPS coordinates to within 50ft- give or take a few- of the treasure location. Decode the scrambled letters to the extra hint, if necessary. Search high and low. Think outside the box. Get a little dirty, perhaps.
Creative thinking, problem solving, nature walks.

Taste the thrill of victory when you finally find it!
Improve self-esteem.

Open the weather proof container and choose a trinket treasure.
Decision making skills.

Leave a trinket in exchange in the spirit of geocaching comeraderie.
Generosity.

Sign the log book to prove you found the treasure cache.
Penmanship.

Return geocache to its location for other treasure hunters to find. Pick up any trash you might see lying around.
Responsibility, stewardship.

Go home happy.
Refreshment, family bonding.

Bring your friends and relations geocaching with you next time.
Goodwill.

Backpacks for Christmas

2008-10-02T10:35:00.003-05:00

I know many people like to give to Angel Tree, Compassion International, or local abuse shelters, etc. around the holidays. Many times these organizations ask people to pack a backpack full of school supplies, toys and toiletries for the kids in their specific field of ministry. (Our old church in Texas takes a bunch of filled backpacks down to the school kids in Mexico every year.)

We bought these at The Children's Place yesterday for $6.99 each. Markdowns on back-to-school items are rampant! And I really like the backpacks at TCP because they are well padded, roomy, and come in some dern fun styles. Who can beat $6.99???

Also if you're looking for an alternative to Christmas wrapping paper this year (like I am), think backpacks, laptop cases, messenger bags. The Children's Place had them all. For cheap.

A Woman Unhappily In Love

2008-10-01T17:03:00.002-05:00

This is for Christine.

Oh the vast differences between being happily in love and...
well...
souffles can tell a lot about a love life.

When In the Course of Human Events

2008-09-24T15:06:00.005-05:00

Not tornadoes, hurricanes, brush fires, or floods
No acts of God or the natural world

But in the course of human events-
imposing taxes without our consent,
depriving us of the benefits of trial by jury,
constraining our fellow citizens,

quartering standing armies in times of peace,
cutting off our trade with all parts of the world,

establishing an arbitrary government,
taking away our charters,
abdicating governance by declaring us out of protection and waging war against us.

We, the People,
don't like that so much.

So the chips are going to fall...

The Things They Had to Do

2008-09-24T14:35:00.009-05:00

Cotton Baggins- Wigs and Milliner

Becky Ross- Tailoring. Flags.

Methinks young Abigail enjoys her Peach Patriot Tea

Someday a Quilt

2008-09-23T22:14:00.001-05:00

These fabrics are busily being cut and sewn to warm my sweet Bean.

Fabric Love

2008-09-23T15:34:00.001-05:00

New fabrics in another favorite theme. The tropics.
If I can't afford to live there, at least I can sew it.
(I tell myself I would miss spring and autumn anyway.)

But if I happen to find a place as dreamy as this vanilla and coconut husk toile...

I'll be sure to send a postcard.

One of my creations is in the Etsy shop now.

What Begins With This Sound?

2008-09-19T09:46:00.005-05:00

This is the first year I am requiring my 4 year old to stick to a schoolwork plan. It's typically 15 minutes of coloring, working a puzzle, counting and sorting, making a craft, or playing a game or reading with her sisters. Nothing major, but enough to get her into the habit of concertedly putting on her learning hat every day.

Today, we are working in a beginning sounds workbook. She's on the letter L.

Say the name of each picture. Color the things that begin with the same sound as "lamp."

Anna: (Drawing of a lamp) "Wamp. W-w-w-w. Wamp."
(Picture of leaves) "Yeaves. Y-y-y-y. Yeaves."
(A kite) "Kite. K-k-k-k. Kite."
(A line drawing of a ladder) "Yadd-uh. Y-y-y-y. Yadd-uh."
(Handsome, smiling lion) "Yion. Y-y-y-y. Yion."

"Mamma, NONE of dese wuhds sound yike "Wamp!"

There's no accounting for a cutie girl's lisp.

A Deal Breaker

2008-09-12T17:27:00.005-05:00

This evening, my four year old lay on her back and ate Goldfish crackers while she watched me fix a salad in the kitchen. Our conversation went like this:

Anna: Mom, your kids are getting too old. You need to sell one.

Mom: Hmmm... which one would you suggest I sell?

A: Me! You can sell me!

M: Who should I sell you to? Do you know someone who will buy you? (Is she brokering deals on the side of preschool?)

A: You can sell me to Aunt Sarah.

M: Do you really think she would buy you?

A: Yes, she loves me.

M: What would you do at Aunt Sarah's house if she bought you?

A: Sleep, watch TV, play, eat breakfast, play computer games...

M: What would you call Aunt Sarah if she was going to be your new mom?

A: I would call her "Aunt Mommy."

M: "Aunt Mommy"? Then what would you call Uncle Brian?

A: (Deliberating briefly.) I would call him "Aunt Daddy."

M: Then what would you call me, since I used to be your mommy?

A: "Grandma."

M: "Grandma?!" (Hey now. Watch it there, kid.)
What will you call The Man Formerly Known As Daddy, then?

A: "Grandpa." (Oh, of course.)

M: Well, if I sell you to them, you need to leave something behind for me to remember you by because I'm going to miss you a lot. I want you to leave your Cow Softie here.

A: Uh... no. You can't take my Cow Softie. It's mine.

M: Nope, if I'm going to sell my darling little daughter I ought to be able to chose one of her belongings as a momento, and I choose Cow Softie.

A: No, Mommy. You can't have Cow Softie. I need to take him with me, he's my favorite!

M: No Cow Softie, no deal. You'll have to stay here with me, I guess.

A: What are we going to have for dinner?

Aunt Sarah and Uncle Brian, looks like this is the one that got away.

I Dream of Men in Powdered Wigs

2008-09-10T14:14:00.001-05:00

Congress Voting Independence
Edward Savage and Robert Edge Pine, 1776

Last night I went to sleep thinking about The French and Indian War. I woke up this morning contemplating The Quartering Act, The Stamp Act and the Intolerable Acts. The battles of Lexington and Concord. Cannon fire, musket rounds, passionate speeches, eloquently written pamphlets, head cheese, frozen feet, stone garden walls, muslin and buckskin. And wigs, wigs, everywhere.

The events leading up to the War for Independence are the topic of conversation around our house these days and I can't help but wonder at my dullness for the last 20 years, because it's finally all coming together and making sense to me. And spilling over into my dreams.
Every man in my dream last night wore a powdered white wig.

No recollection of what they were doing or saying, just white cottony hairpieces strutting around the stages of my subconscious and gesturing emphatically.

Snow Dance of Joy

2008-09-05T16:04:00.002-05:00

I read this news article today about a happening in Kenya.

It is not politics, war, famine, uprisings, economics, poaching, environmental awareness, or anything vastly important in a global sense. But, oh my, it has certainly brought joy to my heart today. The unexpected pleasures and fun little things God rains down in His common grace to our world. Things like this just make me smile.

Be sure to click on the slide show and enjoy this fleeting moment with the Kenyans.

Those Will Be Very Clean Clothes

2008-09-02T19:50:00.003-05:00

My daughter started a load of laundry today. The spin cycle was set on extra high. We went to the library. The liquid laundry detergent was sitting on top of the washer. It was brand new. 96 loads worth. The spin cycle engaged. The detergent skittered across the top of the washer. And dove off. Snapped the plastic lid into pieces.
We found the evidence on our slimy blue laundry room floor.

96 loads worth.

We used the waiting dirty clothes pile to mop up the detergent sludge.

Those will be very clean clothes.

96 loads worth.

In other news, I'm hosting a giveaway over on SoulPerBlog. Where I tell a few more stories about my life. Not that they are interesting as 96 loads worth or anything.

Seamless Transition

2008-08-19T08:35:00.003-05:00

Heard from my four-year old this morning as I was putting up her hair.
(The tune sounded similar to "Let's Go Fly a Kite" from Mary Poppins, but I'm sure it was her own concoction.)

How do you trust in Jesus?
Tell me if you know.
My hair looks better when it's down.
We don't worship anyone but God.
Please don't worship your dad.
Only God, only God, only God
Only God.
Tell me if you know.

Goodwill

2008-08-16T10:15:00.006-05:00

- On my last few trips into the mall, I've noticed the juniors section of some dept. stores hosting an "eco-friendly" line of clothing. I've not stopped to examine the makers labels, so I don't know if these things are made of bamboo or recycled tires or what, but the slogans emblazoned across the fronts leave me scratching my head.
"Eco-Friendly", "I Recycle" ,"Go Green!", "This Shirt Made From Recycled Fibers", "Green is the New Gold", "Run, Forests, Run!"

If I really wanted to be "green" why not save the $20 I'd spend on that brand new T-shirt, and instead pop into my local Goodwill to buy someone's perfectly good, cast-off T-shirt for $1.68? Shoot, I can buy fiveT-shirts and quietly go on with my life knowing that I did something nice for the earth.

(I especially find it odd to see these cute little numbers displayed directly beside T-shirts boldly stating, "It's All About Me," "Queen Bee," "I'm Really Kind of a BIG Deal," and "This is What COOL Looks Like."
Are we loving the planet or loving ourselves? Mixed messages in the coolness department.)

- We've been watching bits and pieces of the Olympic games on the Internet.

What is the Olympics about?
Sports. Right?
Wrong.

Imagine my surprise when the one thing my children would not let me turn off was the parade of nations. You know, it's that rather boring part of the opening ceremonies that comes after all the pizazz of the laser light show, after the wow factor of the acrobatic calligraphers and the amazing feats of 2,008 synchronized Chinese drummers.

This is the part where the athletes follow behind a Chinese escort and wave to the crowd. Usually wearing panama hats and blazers. Or baggy track suits. They murmur to each other. They wave to the crowd and snap a few pictures. They walk one lap around the track and exit. I yawn.

My kids would NOT let me turn it OFF! I couldn't believe it.

They were fascinated to see the faces of each tribe and tongue. To see the waving flags representing each language and nation. To watch the athletes joyful faces marching together in harmony down a path meant expressly for goodwill toward fellow men.

The Olympics is not about sports. Is it?

-Last night I read an article about a local couple who met and recently got married AT Goodwill Industries. Becky, 76, is a cashier. Tom, 62, is a facilities technician. They held their ceremony in one of the on-site conference rooms and timed it right in between the shift change so all their fellow Goodwill employees could attend. That made me smile.

Becky and Tom, you have my goodwill!

- I am sewing a couple of things for Christmas (already? I know, how weird) and have been contemplating the ways in which we celebrate the goodwill of the Lord toward humankind. "Goodwill" is one of those words that I've spent my life glazing over in the Christmas hymns and carols. I want to spend some time this year exploring what it means that the holy God of the universe held only GOOD will toward those who offended Him.
We're still offending Him to this day. And yet, there's no ill will to be found. Simply GOOD will toward man.

I've only grasped a thread of it.

Fieldtrip: Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge

2008-08-12T12:38:00.008-05:00

My family has been going to The Outer Banks since 1986. It never ceases to amaze me how many things I find to do there. Every time we go, I find something new. Not that the activities are new- they've been there all along- but I just didn't know about it before now.

Lighthouses and lifesaving stations dot the coastline. Pirates harbored their ships and laid traps for unsuspecting fleets laden with cargo. The Wright Brothers made their historical first flight on the beach sands, harnessing the ocean breezes for lift. English colonists, even before the days of Jamestown and Plymouth, settled under the trees on Roanoke Island. There are ferry rides, historic houses, and nature walks. Deep sea fishing, small airplane tours, windsurfing, kite surfing, surfing surfing, hang gliding, parasailing, surf fishing. Sandcastles, kite flying, boogie boarding, pick up volleyball games. And then, of course, there's always sitting on the beach and soaking in the sun's rays with a good book on your lap. Or just taking a nap.
I really do love this place.

This year, I learned that the Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge offers guided canoe tours. For all these years, I have never been to the refuge, never knew I could be guided around on the water by someone who knows what he's talking about. So obviously, this homeschooling crew had to check it out and bring along as many family members as possible. (All of whom were graciously given the educational discount just for being associated with us. Thanks, Pea Island!*)

The Canoe Crew
(minus photographer mommy)

Heading out to the wetlands for a two-hour nature paddle.
We barely scratched the surface of this 30,000+ acre wildlife preserve.

Passing these old pylons for a Hatteras Island bridge, our guide, Will, told us the wooden bridges were in use between 1920 and the late 1940's when these islands were still a disjointed smattering of barrier sandbars. In the years that followed, the sandbars built up enough to construct Hwy 12, so the bridges are no longer used. Except by pelicans and cormorants, that is.

Scaring up a pelican

The kids armed themselves with fishing nets to see what sorts of nature could be nabbed before tipping the canoe.
We spotted a skate and some finger mullets, but never managed to capture one for closer study.

Will says we can tell this island is older than the others because of the cedar trees growing on it. Oh right, makes sense. It takes a fair amount of time for ground to become fertile enough to support trees. He estimated it's been here for 150 years or so.

Halfway through the tour we stopped to do some wading and watching.
There are areas of the Oregon Inlet that are only knee-deep, even a half-mile out. A wading wonderland!

Will told us the early inhabitants of the Outer Banks prided themselves on their ability to harvest everything from the islands that they needed to survive, even seasonings for food. On the left is Sea Asparagus- used as salt. On the right is Sea Ox Eye Daisy- used as pepper.
We tried them ourselves, and amazingly, they're dead on!

Anna and her Uncle Jason- wading buddies.

* Many national parks in the US offer discounted rates for "educational institutions." Read that, homeschools. Typically, all I've had to present as proof that my school exists and is legit, is our school letterhead.
Several years ago we made up a name for our homeschool, typed it in a fancy font in Microsoft Word, added a clipart logo for some flair, put it on the top of a document and saved it for anytime we're heading to a national park and need letterhead.
Pea Island asked me for even less.
Significant discounts await.

Recent Sabbath

2008-08-07T15:35:00.011-05:00

Open

Contemplating

Watching

Safe

Direction

Play

Rest

Discovery

Refuge

Remembrance

Salami Funk

2008-08-06T17:25:00.003-05:00

I went on a week's vacation to the beach and came back to a kitchen that smells like salami.

I have not bought salami in all the 13 1/2 years that we've been married!

Calling Nancy Drew. I have a potential case.

The Salami Funk Mystery.

She's Got High Hopes: Part Two

2008-07-23T20:43:00.005-05:00

So then today, we were toodling down the road to visit a friend and we passed a sprawling RV dealership. I pointed it out to my mid-kid and asked her which giant beast struck her fancy.

After a second or two of deliberation she said, "I just want to get a small one. Something with one bed above the driver's seat and room enough for just me."

Well, that made me sad that we were all somehow black-listed from her future travel plans, so I tried to be pathetic and needy and ventured, "You mean you want to travel all alone?" (In my best patented mother's whine-y wail.)

"Aw, Mom. I'll be fine...
As long as I have a night light."

She's Got High Hopes

2008-07-20T19:34:00.004-05:00

Our eldest daughter has been saving all summer to buy herself a Nintendo DS.
Three weeks ago she reached her goal.
The entire family joyfully hopped in the car to watch her first major purchase with her own, hard-earned cash. We celebrated, we high-fived, we ooh-ed and aah-ed.
We discovered that Nintendo DS's do not come with any sort of starter games, so we all hung our heads in disappointment at the knowledge that she was back to the drawing board, now earning the dough to buy herself a GAME to play on the silly machine. (Shall we start a letter writing campaign? I mean, c'mon, if you're going to sell a game system, at least give the kid a cheesy starter game to go with it!)

Last week, our eldest daughter reached that goal and proudly plunked down the cash for her game. It's been NintenDogs Central around here ever since.

So at dinner this evening, we were discussing what the kids might want to save up for in the future. Of course, eldest daughter is saving for another Nintendo game.

When we asked our middle daughter what she was hoping to save money to buy, she quipped,
"Who me? I'm saving up for an RV."

Letter to a Mother Bird

2008-07-14T08:41:00.001-05:00

Barren nest photo by Bev Wauer

Dear Mother Bird,

I'm sorry that I broke your egg. I didn't mean to do it.
Climbing up to see it's safe,
And now, you know, I rue it.
I really think it fascinating- God's great artistry
Masterpieces in small twig bundles
Nestled in a tree.

I know I disobeyed my mom. She's told me this before.
"Holding bird eggs in your hand is not what they are for."
Yes, I know that I was wrong.
And I would have asked permission.
But you were not in bush or tree.
Least ways, not that I could see.
And Mommy wasn't standing there to make sure I held true.
No little sister hanging 'round to make sure that she knew.
Left on my own, I made a choice, and no one had to know.
"It's a rule for those inept, as I'm about to show."

I worried maybe you had gone and flown away for good.
And left that tempting bright blue egg in the tree branch where I stood.
It was pretty, it was dainty, and the breeze began to blow
I fretted that your nest might fall
And, since I am in-the-know

And a self-described authority on what is good for me
I helped myself, and helped you too
Until I bumped my knee
On that smallest little branch there- right in the shady crook
I promise, it was accidental, that my egg-handling hand so shook

I dropped your unborn baby right there at the tree's base
And I cried and cried and whimpered to imagine your sweet face
Disappointed, downcast, crestfallen
Chirping me my shame
How could I be so selfish as to play this dangerous game?

I saw, I took, I held
I carried it around
I was in complete control
I thought-
But then I found
I could not control the gravity
of earth or action wrong
And now, I'm sad that no one
Will ever hear your baby prophet's song.

You long to gather up your chicks
To hold them close and safe
To give them comfort- Presence,
Words of life, and grace.
Your home is now left desolate
Abandoned, as it were.
There's no one home to break the morn
With messages on the dew.

I can't undo what I have wrought
That tears my heart in two
Irreparable, the sin, that I've committed against you.
Resuscitation, Elmer's glue, a bit of tape and twine
It doesn't fix the life that's gone
And the blame is squarely mine.

What can I do to make it right?
To bring life back from the dead?
Mom and I stand here looking down
And I wonder in my head.
If maybe she had warned me, and told me to obey
Because she loves and cares for me, and cares about you too.
And she understands there is no way
To undo history.

Not with human skill, at least.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. And now, look, your house is abandoned and desolate."

He will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
he will remove the disgrace of his people
from all the earth.
The LORD has spoken.

Echocardiogram

2008-07-06T12:52:00.005-05:00

Do not handle!
Do not taste!
Do not touch!
Things created, all of them
In and under heaven

Empty notions, captivating
False humility
Puffed up, empty notions
Mere shadows of true things

Fasting, feasting
Drinking, dressing
New moon celebrations
Of human tradition and empty philosophy

Life makes it so hard sometimes
To know what's real
(Cultural arrhythmia.)

Can you feel it?
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Dominion masters
Slaves to thrones
Wives to principalities
Children of enemies and outsiders

Gentile barbarian
Scythian people-pleasers
Prisoners
Held captive by fleshly minds of division

Shameful passion rules us
Impure indulgence, gluttons for it all
Appearing wise, appearing
Founded on human commands and teachings
Rather than reality.

Life makes it so hard sometimes
To know what's real
(Cultural arrhythmia.)

Can you feel it?
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Circumcised bodies with uncircumcised hearts
Systems and specifics, idolatry
Destined to perish- Flat lining.
Doomed to fail and pass away in cardiac arrest
Decaying into the dust.

And the dust is everywhere.
It is everywhere.
(Cultural arrhythmia.)

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
You are there.
You are there.
You're Everywhere.
You Are Everywhere.

Our God is here.
(Our Crash Cart and Pace Maker.)
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

*Cardiac medication*
Take daily as needed by pressing the play button to the right.

Because I Feel Like Something Green Today

2008-07-02T09:58:00.010-05:00

Blue and Black Salvia- the hummingbirds love this and so do I.

-Butterfly Garden 2006-
Completely empty of plants, but full of potential

-Butterfly Garden 2008-
Lilac, hollyhock, butterfly bush, bee balm, sedum, lavender, chrysanthemum, phlox
And lots of bees and butterflies

-Vegetable garden 2006-
Cardboard boxes and topsoil
Shrimpy basil and high hopes for a lush future

-Vegetable Garden 2008-
Welcome lush future!
Corn, green beans, summer squash, lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, zucchini, peas, watermelon, strawberries, cucumber, grapes, sunflower, cosmos, zinnia, lupines... and shrimpy basil.

Summer Sabbath

2008-07-01T10:14:00.001-05:00

A tree-lined trail beside the river

Watching a lizard bask in the sun

And a deer scurry off the train tracks as the 3:12 rolls by

Waiting for the slow pokes to catch up

Teaching the baby sister to eat honeysuckle

Which she took to like a natural

Soon everyone is doing it
Intoxicating

Dodging a summer shower

A centipede ambles across the path

Napping and reading- the perfect way to head home from a family bike ride

When the Mice are Away, The Cat Will...

2008-06-27T09:59:00.004-05:00

Our latest round of SoulPerSuit (going through the book of Colossians) had an intriguing challenge for one of its Shuffle the Deck activities.

Daily Digital 1. With your digital camera or camera phone, take a picture of the EXACT same object everyday in the exact same place around the exact same time. It is best if the object is organic or in an organic setting and something you can take a picture of EVERYDAY: a tree in your yard or other piece of landscaping, your face or the face of a family member, your breakfast meal, the surface in your house that collects all the mail, lunch bags, and keys, etc.

My digital camera broke recently though, so I adapted this Shuffle to fit my present circumstances.

This week was the first week in 9 years that I have been without ALL of my children for a part of my regular daily routine. I signed them up for a summer gymnastics camp. So while they are off for three hours, blossoming into Shannon Miller and Kerri Strugg, I've had the same three hours every morning to use as I will.
Here is a "snapshot" of how I spent my time.

Monday
- Stuck around the gym to make sure the littlest one transitioned to her class well. (What was I concerned about? She chatted the teacher's ear off and bopped all over the trampoline like she was made of rubber. No socialization problems for that kid!)
- Went grocery shopping
- Arrived at the gym early to watch my kids in action (because even though I pine to have some time away from them, it kills me to know they're learning and developing in new ways that I'm not there to enjoy as their mom.)

Tuesday
- Watered the garden.
- Started a load of laundry.
- Secreted away some doll furniture that my girls no longer play with but insist on keeping set up in their room. I'm done stubbing my toes. And I hope they don't read what I just wrote. Otherwise I will be forced at screech-point to take the doll stuff back out of the closet. Let's see how long it takes the kids to realize that a giant chunk of floor space is now available for cartwheels and handstands.
- Dropped books off at the library and got some books for ME off of the shelves. The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, and Edible Wild Plants and Useful Herbs. Both to live happily on my extendo-bedside table for a few weeks. :)
- Visited the newest independent coffee shop in Frederick, La Dolce Vita, and sampled their Ghirardeli Chocolate Mocha. Sat out in the sunshine with its yumminess and worked on a SoulPerSuit card that is confounding me. (The drink and sun were delightful, the card still eludes me.)

Wednesday
- Tried to tackle that SoulPerSuit card. Made some headway. Now I know what WON'T work.
- Worked out another Colossians question I'm wrestling with. (Well, I'm still wrestling so I guess it's not exact to say it's worked out. Let's call it "deepening my conversation with the Lord." This conversation has been going on for a long time. And will continue until the day I'm buried. There's always a conversation running in the background.)
- Popped into Home Depot to get three quarts of paint mixed for my test patch in the living room. Moss Landing, Scotland Isle, and Asparagus. Someday... that living room is going to be great... someday...
-Popped into Target (right next to H.D.) and picked out a couple of new summer tops. Man, I hate shopping. Even if it's just me shopping for me. Get me outta there, quick! (I couldn't help thinking about the free time I was wasting standing there looking at the racks of clothing. But it needed to be done, and doing it solo was preferable to dragging the gymnastics team with me. I like the tops I picked. I don't even have to return them. (Double bonus!))

Thursday
-Went to Wild Bird Garden to try to get some replacement tubes for our hummingbird feeders. They don't sell them anymore. Seems that no one does. :( So I bought a new (less artsy-looking) feeder to tide over the little guys until we can figure out a way to repair the glass orb feeders that I really like. Also bought a garden gift.
- Grocery shopping again. It's almost a luxury to do it by myself. Although... didn't I just say I hate to shop?? Cold watermelon sounded so good though.
- Came home and read blogs. Wrote a few E-mails. Read a few more.
- Wrapped up a gift for a friend.
- Ran the dishwasher.
-Wrote a blog entry. (What, publish it? No, no. (Because then you might think I was up to something.))
- Made my bed. Because I am a civilized being.
- Watered the garden.

Friday
- Met hubby at the gym so he could witness the agility and strength of our children. Once he walked in, the littlest one began flapping like a bird and no longer listened to her teacher. DADDY was there! :)
- Cleaned a bathroom in 10 minutes flat! Yeehaw!
- Vacuum the someday-to-be-verdant-green living room.
- Fix tuna salad for the gymnasts' protein lunch.
- Started the dishwasher.
-Hand washed the over flow dishes.
- Hung up the new hummingbird feeder.
- Made my bed. Because I am a civilized being.
- Composed a blog entry in my brain.
- Challenge myself to type this blog entry in 30 mins. (I'm 2 minutes over already. Drat!)

For someone who has often entertained dreams of what my life might be like if my kids went off to school, this week has been a good experiment. Because even though I pine to have some time away from them, it kills me to know they're learning and developing in new ways that I'm not there to enjoy as their mom.
I don't think I could live this way permanently.

How to Recycle a FreeCycle

2008-06-09T14:17:00.000-05:00

About two years ago, our family scored a wooden play set via our local FreeCycle* group. After careful examination though, we decided that the 20-year old play set was not in the kind of shape we trusted for our kids' safety for the next 5-10 years.

I'd been wanting to start composting kitchen scraps for some time too, so my super-smart husband and father came up with a plan to turn the play set into a giant compost bin for me.

This is the clubhouse and sandbox portion of the play set...

... being remade into an air-circulating compost container.

Leaves, grass clippings, kitchen scraps, dead headed flowers, coffee grounds, veggies overlooked in the garden and left on the vine too long... it all goes into a lovely pile of decomposing goodness.

That spring I was excited to plant a few things and began lasagna gardening in cardboard boxes. (You know what happens to cardboard when it gets wet and rained on?)
So with the leftover swing and support beams from the FreeCycled play set, hubby built frames for my vegetable garden. This is about halfway through the build process.

Laying out the square divisions.
Yay for no more soggy box gardens!
(I will have to snap a few photos of these things this year, because it looks really different and much nicer, now that everything has had a while to settle in.)

I use these gardening and naturalist books a lot.

And if you wonder lately where Erin has gone to...

look no further.

*Not familiar with FreeCycle? I'm about to sound like a paid advertisement.
It's a great way to become a better steward of your possessions, finances and the environment.
Basic principle: Do you have something, anything, you want to get rid of? Post it on your local FreeCycle Yahoo group and see if there is anyone in your area who could use it.
Looking for something that someone else might have and not want anymore? Post a request on your local FreeCycle group and see if someone can meet your need.
FreeCycle helps to keep perfectly good items out of the landfills by connecting people who want to get rid of things to people who actually need/want/can use those very same things. Bricks, cars, makeup, household goods, clothing, roosters, kittens, windows, books, furniture, video games, sports equipment, plants, appliances, moving boxes, holiday decorations... there are very few things I haven't seen on my FreeCycle board.
Search the Yahoo Groups directory to see if there's a FreeCycle group in your area.

When Your Juices Run Low

2008-06-06T14:02:00.004-05:00

Feeling a bit scant in the creativity department lately?

The South West Creative Growers' Association is a family run operation that produces and harvets a wide variety of creative juices for folks like you and me.

Click below to take a video tour of their farm, it's quite a fascinating process.

My Favorite Ellie in the Whole Wide World

2008-06-04T06:59:00.002-05:00

is having a birthday!
8 years of living life loud.

Random and Simple? Raise Your Hand

2008-05-19T07:39:00.003-05:00

The delightful Christianne of Lilies Have Dreams has tagged me with a meme. This one has two main features that are all me.

1) Simple.
2) Random.
Maybe I ought to just type my name six times.

Simple Random #1
I enjoy shopping at flea markets, antique shops, garage sales, thrift stores, and estate sales. Yeah I love a bargain, but more than that I love the human interest stories there. It's fascinating to imagine the people, places, circumstances, and lifestyles surrounding all the simple and random items spread out on the tables or hanging on the racks. I'd much rather have an eclectic house and wardrobe and know that someone else had a life in this chair, this skirt, with this pitcher. I'm a small part of a big story. (Watch The Red Violin, btw.)

Simple Random #2
An ideal day for me is sitting bare-headed in the sun in my lawn chair with my bare feet in a cushion of grass. Watching the birds build nests, listening to the bees buzz by and my children laugh and call to each other from the other side of the yard. I'd have a book with me, but I would not be reading it. I'd simply be soaking in the elements.

Simple Random #3
Hubby and I have our queen-size mattress on a king-size bed frame. (Free bed frame in awesome condition... human interest story... see Simple Random #1) The Engineer and Lover-of-All-Things-at-Right-Angles would really like to replace our queen mattress with a king so things fit in a neat and orderly fashion, but I LOVE it! The extra gap on either side of the mattress makes a great "extendo-bedside table" where I can keep all the books I'm reading that don't fit on the teetering stack inhabiting my real bedside table.

Also on the "extendo": an embroidery project, sketch pencils, a homeschool planner, my laptop and a doodling journal. Occasionally a plate of cheese and crackers.

Simple Random #4
I love asparagus.

Simple Random #5
In elementary school, I entertained the notion of becoming an Olympic platform diver. In an alternate reality, you might be rooting me on in Beijing this summer.

Simple Random #6
If given the choice, I would grow nothing but flowers in my garden.

For some reason, I feel slightly guilty that I don't care much about tending fruits and vegetables. Is it the pragmatist in me chastising that the world can't eat flowers and therefore I'm not contributing to the betterment of humanity? Did I have some kind of scarring experience in a veggie garden as a child? Am I worried I'm being anti-Proverbs 31 Woman and robbing my family of a nutritious meal in favor of "pretties"?
I don't know where this odd and minor guilt comes from. You don't care what I grow in my garden, but the guilt tinge is there nonetheless. It hovers around me at the garden center when I gleefully go straight to the hydrangeas, hibiscus and hollyhocks.
Eventually I heave a big sigh, get responsible, and go to peruse the things that grown-ups plant. Tomatoes and peppers. Green beans and potatoes.
sigh.

(I do have some veggies growing this year. So there.)

And in simple, random fashion... The End.

grandMother's Day

2008-05-08T13:32:00.005-05:00

Justin Roberts has a sensitive, lovely, heart-warming song on his latest CD, Pop Fly, that we're just loving at our home, especially with Mother's Day coming up.
And who doesn't love a mother?

My daughter tells me I hardly ever make things from scratch. She is going to tell her own children about the way her grandmothers all cooked from scratch. (Then she is going to tell them that her own mother was remiss in the scratch-cooking department.)

This song is dedicated to our three lovely grandmothers. Grandma Pat, Grandma Dollie and Grambee.
It's called, From Scratch.

She takes a little makes a lot
Be careful sis it’s kinda hot
Is there more inside that pot
I’m hoping so and thinking not
She gave us much more than we thought
From scratch

We love you, Grandmas.
You gave us much more than we thought.
From scratch.

Gagged and Bound, Hanging Upside Down

2008-05-07T21:51:00.002-05:00

The drops weave together daily,
their fibrous web,
and bind me in this sticky love.
I trip upon my own heart strings.

They shoot me full of adrenaline, then entangle me, gag me, rob me
Leaving me to finish off what's left of myself.
Heart racing, eyes bulging; wet, salty and gasping.
Wishing, perhaps, they'd completed their aim this time.
Please stop toying with me and end it.
(Then thinking that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.)

I'll try to gnaw my way free
But I always end up chewing on things too long.
Snapping a constricting heart string, I may not know where to stop.
When am I truly free? What does it feel like to finally be unstuck from the web?
Someone sauntered by and filled my ear with helpful hints and timeless truths,
Their own heart strings still dangling from their ankles,
Snagging twigs and dry leaves as they passed.
"Go over-under, through-the-loop
Twist it three times to the left."
(But your knots are not my knots.) (I just wanna make that clear.)

I looked for the Queen of Hearts, but only managed to find the Spades.
I do suppose it's apropros
The blood's drained out of me anyway.
What's left behind when I'm out of juice,
Gagged and bound, hanging upside down-
Empty, black and dangling there?
So Queen of Spades it is.
We meet again.

Those tired old eyes. Watching her lifeblood ride off into the distance.
Has her heart chosen to leave her for good? Trickling away on a daily basis.
Gagged and bound, hanging upside down
She looks powerless to stop those hell bent horses.
Voiceless against it all.
(Frankly, right now I wouldn't even know what to say if given the chance.)

It's all there somewhere. Scribbled down in a fever and wrapped tight beneath the tangle of love and blood.

Maybe the Spade Queen is the Heart Queen with a weird case of hemophilia.
Only clotting when she's been bled out.
Surrounding her, rather than coursing through, the viscous red sticks and swells.
Imprisoning her.
Bringing death from within her own beating heart.
(Weird is right!)

The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?
The sinful mind is hostile to God. It does not submit to God's law, nor can it do so.
It is always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth.

Do you find this comforting or the death knell?
Swaddling clothes and embalming strips feel very much the same.

Can I Use a Serving Spoon?

2008-04-28T15:40:00.003-05:00

There's a creative think-tank happening over at SoulPerBlog.

Come toss in your spoonful of sugar.

MY CO-OP ADVENTUERS

2008-04-22T12:35:00.005-05:00

Hi, I'm Ellie
and I want to tell you about
my co-op adventures.

First of all...WE HAD A HULA PARTY!
we did the hula and we ate Hawaiian
food. and then...

WE DID THE BLANKET TOSS!
and do you know who we tossed
MY BABY DOLL!
her name is Holly
GO, HOLLY GO!
it is from the Eskimo tribe
so they can spot food to hunt

and we did Navajo
and sand painted
look at Rebekah's!

This is mine. I had fun telling
you about my co-op
by for now.

The Three Sisters

2008-04-17T09:11:00.007-05:00

My name is Rebekah. My Co-op is
doing a study on Native Americans.
We are going to plant the Three Sisters.
I have three sisters too!
Each of the Three Sisters help each
other in a way.
This is my Co-op.

This is me.
I'm holding this bamboo stick
for my mom.

My sister Ellie( the second sister.), is
helping her plants grow,
by putting in rotting fish. GROSS!!!!

Well...This Top picture shows the
Second Sister, BEANS!!!
The First Sister is corn.
But I don't have a picture of that.

This is squash.
My last sister's name is Anna.
I am kind of like the corn.

I am the oldest sister(the First Sister!).

Next, we made feather potatoes.
They will keep away the birds,
and other animals.
But, my mom heard a RACCOON!!!
Thank goodness it did not eat the fish!!

Well, this how the Three Sisters help each
other: The corn helps the beans climb,
the squash has HUGE leaves.
They help to kill all the weeds.
I don't know how the beans help.
Bye-Bye!

Clothesline Controversy

2008-04-15T13:58:00.004-05:00

As spring pushes forth its greens and yellows, I'm usually found basking in the sunlight on my front porch, dreaming and scheming for this year's gardening thrust.

Though it's not a gardening thrust. per se, I've really been wanting to get a clothesline for our home.
I just had no idea they were so controversial.

While doing my research into which clothesline might be best for our yard, I encountered several interesting conversations.
Mary, my next door neighbor, cautioned me to make sure I had our clothesline out of view of the road. Apparently our community association dictates that clotheslines cannot be hung within view from the road.
I did not know we HAD a community association. No one handed me a booklet of by-laws when we moved in. No one has knocked on my door to collect dues. This phantom community association is concerned about clothesline viewage, but leaves our neighborhood sign to decay into rot and ruin... huh.
I did a little on-line shopping and discovered that there are a plethora of designs and styles for clotheslines. The standard T-shape, which strings line between two stationary cross-shaped poles. The Umbrella style clothesline, which uses a single central pole from which all the supports can by "opened up and out", just like you would with your umbrella. There's the retractable pulley system, which attaches to one wall, then to a pole out in the yard, and you can pulley your clothes in toward you and never have to leave your bathroom window (or something like that.)
There's the Versaline Disappearing clothesline, which simply folds flat to your wall when you're done. So good to have when you live in a 6th floor flat in Amsterdam and don't even own an electric clothes dryer.
I finally decided on a Roman shade design. Hubby and I mounted the retractable end onto our back shed, then sunk a sleeve for the connector pole out in the grass. When I'm ready to hang out clothing, I just plop the connector pole in the sleeve, grab the handle of the Roman shade clothesline and walk it out to the connector pole to hook it in.
When the clothes are dry, the entire thing disassembles and you'd never even know we had a clothesline. I hope the phantom community association approves.

Here's something else I read about clotheslines- to many people they represent poverty. Welfare, dirty, slums, ghetto. Dirt poor. There's a movie producer I read about who even says that she purposely adds clotheslines to her movies that have a theme of poverty. That's the first thing on her to-do list for those movies. String up a clothesline.

Clotheslines = All that is bad in the world.

To many other people, clotheslines are cozy, homey, fresh. Good. Earth-friendly. They represent good stewardship. They harness the free gifts of God through nature- wind, air and sunshine. I found a man who runs an I Love Clotheslines Fan Site.

Clotheslines = All that is good in the world.

So... I don't know if I should tell you this.
I got a clothesline.

But keep it under your hat, ok?

Announcement: Cappuccino with Colossians

2008-04-13T09:25:00.000-05:00

Registration is now open for the next SoulPerSuit group going through Sandra Glahn's book, Cappuccino with Colossians

If you're interested in joining this study art group, here are some things you need to know:

- Contrary to what I wrote here before, we are NOT hosting the group on ShoutLife. Sorry to misinform you, but after examining the technical details, we decided to go back to the mostly-trustworthy but at least very-familiar Yahoo group. So, if you 'd like to join the discussion, click the purple button on the right.

- This SoulPerSuit group is limited to 10 participants, so if you'd like to join the discussion, click the purple button on the right.

-Our group discussion will begin on April 13 and run for 9 weeks. Get yourself a copy of Cappuccino with Colossians, break out your deck of playing cards, the scissors and glue sticks, and click the purple button on the right.

Free Stuff at SoulPerBlog

2008-04-03T22:43:00.004-05:00

Over the next couple of weeks, the women of SoulPerSuit are giving away free stuff. Multiple times. Repeatedly. Again and again.

It's our way of celebrating the fun community we have via the Word, the cyberworld, and our creative brains. It's our way of kicking off the next SoulPerSuit group.

Sandi just posted the first giveaway tonight, a free copy of Cappuccino with Colossians.
Click over to SoulPerBlog to enter. And keep checking back because there's more free stuff to come!

Economists

2008-03-28T17:06:00.003-05:00

I had to fill-up the ol' minivan today. $3.35 a gallon.

So I polled my backseat audience when I climbed back in, smelling of petrol, "Look at the monitor and see how much we just spent on gas! There are still a lot of cars bustling about town, how high do you guys think gas prices are going to have to get before the average American makes a significant change in their driving habits? Maybe decides to stay home and fix dinner on a Friday night instead of hitting the road for the local McDonald's?"

The 9 year old: "I have no idea." (Translation: "I'm really into this book about horse and pony stories, will you please stop your maternal yammering?") I can tell when I'm being written off.

The 4 year old: "Yeah! I like McDonald's!! Can we go eat at McDonald's, Mommy?" (My dear child, that was not my point. No, we can't go out for lunch.)

The 7 year old: "Well, Mom, I guess maybe if gas was $190 a gallon people might stop driving so much. Or maybe $100. Or maybe $90. Yeah, they'd probably stop driving if it was $90 a gallon."

I will definitely stop driving if gas prices reach $90 a gallon.

What's your limit?

Hope

2008-03-21T14:49:00.003-05:00

On your deepest, darkest days in the pit...
do you ever imagine it possible that Death itself could die?

It can.

It did.

It will.

Matthias Grunewald, The Crucifixion -1515, oil on wood panel
Luca Giordano, Resurrection - after 1665, Oil on canvas

Shiny Happy Theologians

2008-03-13T14:08:00.003-05:00

What is it about growing up that breeds skepticism?
What is it about growing up in the faith that somehow drives us attempt to understand the Eternal One in minutia? To the nth degree? Under the microscope?
To break out the magnifying glass and the nit pickers?*
Why do we get so wrapped around the axle over things we can't possibly comprehend?

Jesus is giving us a break when he says to come to him like a child. "Relax. Trust that it's true. Be like your 6 year old who knows she doesn't know everything about the world, and she's ok with that. It's not tripping her up. It's not depressing her. She's not stalled out in her faith, she's sitting in the back seat of the car, singing and working out her theology. Belting out the mysteries of the Trinity and eternal life. "La la la la! La la la la!"

Can we worship Him for His omni-everything-ness without having to understand how it works? Can I?

Let me rest confident in His nature, hop on my bike and ride in circles, singing at the top of my lungs.

Never ending.
Always.
You will never end.
Because you're always never ending.
You were there before there was beginning.
Always you were.
You are never ending.
Here you are now with us.
Here we are found in you.
That's really weird and I don't get it, but
La la la la! La la la la!

How profound the theology of a child. How deep the trust. How bright the bliss of being loved.

* Please don't misunderstand me here. The God of the Universe is completely capable of withstanding our scrutiny and our nit picking. He can totally hack it. And often times our close-up examination of God breaks us through to a completely new level of relationship with Him.
I just don't think that He owes us an explanation for Himself and His ways. I don't think we deserve to know all the answers. And I don't think complete understanding is a requirement for belief. Salvation is a free gift- a free gift, and a Giver, that I will never completely understand.
I can become cynical and depressed when I strive to push God into an inquisition box of my own design.

This song reminded me this week what a blessing it is to go about my life of faith trusting that He is holding it all in His hands. There's a plan. My soul does better when I just let Him do the planning and get on with the joy before me.

*Neverending, David Crowder Band, Remedy CD

That Is, After All, The Title of This Blog

2008-03-05T19:07:00.000-05:00

No, no, you're right. I haven't been here in almost a million years. Forgive me my silence. There are reasons I've been quiet. They're affectionately known around here as, Paper Lanterns.

Dissecting cow eyes for the eyes and seeing unit in our KONOS co-op.
(I think he's watching you.)

Really, it wasn't as disgusting as you'd think. We learned a lot about the eye, and even the grossed-out members of our co-op were encouraged/forced to participate.( And they learned something new and valuable as well. )

A VERY cold day for tracking! Snow flurries, freezing temperatures... but perfect slightly frozen mud for finding footprints. Deer, dog and human. We're paying close attention so we can catch our prey.

Paper Lanterns of the Etsy kind.

I sewed up a few pillowcase dresses from vintage pillowcases. I just love the charm of these dresses. And the models make them oh-so-much-more charming to me.

Frolicking kittens.

A blushing Southern Belle.

A poodle. Oo la la!

Crowning the baby as our four-year old birthday princess.
Ravishing.

SoulPerSuit in Proverbs

"The reverent and worshipful fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. If any of you lacks wisdom let him ask God who gives generously without reproach, and it will be given. " (Proverbs and James)
The One who created wisdom is the One I ought to ask for wisdom. Then I will be like a tree planted by streams of Living Water, and send out my roots by the stream. I will not fear when heat comes; my leaves will be always green. I will have no worries in a year of drought. (Jeremiah)

Go to the ant, you sluggard! Proverbs 6:6
Where there are no boundaries, the horses stampede.

Sometimes I'm a lazy sluggard, and sometimes I'm just tired out. I'm tired out though, as a result of having poor boundaries with my children. Homeschooling and not being involved in a lot of outside activities means we are all together A LOT. I am also a bit of a micro-manager in our home-- a leftover from the days when I had nothing but little ones who needed a lot of supervision. They don't need nearly as much input from me these days, but I have been very slow to understand that and to loosen up.

What that has translated into though, is that I've led my children to believe that they CAN'T do most things without their Mom. They can't move on from spelling to math until I check their work. They can't fold their clothes and put them away unless I'm standing there over them. They can't get a library book back in the basket without a direct command from me. (I think some of that is their own laziness.)

So as a result of this Proverbs study, I am determining which areas of life my 9 year old needs to mature in and learn to function without me. I'm looking at what my 7 year old can do on her own. I'm thinking about how the 4 year old can be helpful and grown-up. How all the girls can help each other and take responsibility for their own welfare as well as each other's. I'm not hanging up the "Off Duty" sign, but I am going to try to draw some better boundaries so that I don't feel like I'm overseeing every iota of life around here. Wisdom tells me I'll be less tired that way.

Wisdom Ice Cream Cone

Eat honey, my son, for it is good;
honey from the comb is sweet to your taste.

Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul;
if you find it, there is a future hope for you,
and your hope will not be cut off. Prov. 24:13-14

My contemporary equivalent to a honey comb- the ice cream shoppe.
How awesome to have the opportunity as a parent to teach your kids the delight and anticipation of wisdom... just like you look forward to going to the ice cream shoppe.

The kids and I are studying Attentiveness in our homeschool right now, and specifically The American Frontiersmen. We're learning about how they needed to pay attention to animal tracks in order to hunt for food, how they needed to pay close attention to how much food/supplies they had before they started on the Oregon Trail, how closely they observed the signs of changing weather to indicate an early winter or the soil conditions to know if certain areas were good to set up a permanent homestead. One activity my girls and I wanted to try was quilting, and specifically doing our own in-house quilting bee like the pioneer women might have done.

This quilt square represents a lot more than an ice cream cone to me now.
It is the attractiveness of wisdom, the sweetness it adds to our lives.
It is the generosity and enthusiasm with which I'm supposed to be offering sweet wisdom to my children.
It is the instruction and teaching (of sewing, of pioneers and American history, of attentiveness, and ultimately of the wise ways of the Lord) that I desire to take place in our household.
It is mentoring- a couple of the ice cream scraps were taken from my mom's scrap bin, I pieced the quilt square together, and my 8 year old is going to embroider the edges. A lineage of sewing. (Though some of us were not so interested to begin with.) A lineage of Christ-followers.
Whew! That's a lot for a little 8 X 8 quilt square to live up to!!

House of Cards

Fools build a house of cards on shifting sands. Nothing a fool "establishes" will actually remain established because the foundation is flawed from the first day... and everything from the building materials to the choice of building site show a lack of insight and eternal security.

Two weeks I labored over a really brilliant blog entry. I mean LABORED. (I even wrote with a western accent if you can believe that.)
Blogger is a free service.
Trusting Blogger is my house of cards.
It ate my brilliant blog entry. Gone without a trace.
I tried to establish a portion of my creative life on Blogger and was met with frustration, disappointment, and grief.

I WAS HAVING A MAJISCULE DAY!!!

But I'm over that now.

Ant Food

2008-02-02T23:09:00.001-05:00

Go to the ant, you sluggard!

movie poster c/o moviegoods.com

Wisdom Wears a Clown Suit

2008-01-26T19:48:00.000-05:00

I talked with my sister on the phone this evening. She is, due to stages and seasons (I know, I know), bowing out of this SoulPerSuit study in Proverbs too. (Someday, y'all, we'll be meeting over these great feasts around The Table and we will get to oooh and aaaah over this blessed cuisine together!! Blogging and phone conversations are a decent substitute though- beggars can't be choosers.)

To an unbeliever, the Apostle Paul might as well be in a clown suit when he writes this letter. And the Corinthian Christians form a traveling circus troupe upon reading it.

Here's what Abby, the Poet of Influence, shared with me tonight regarding wisdom:

17God didn't send me out to collect a following for myself, but to preach the Message of what he has done, collecting a following for him. And he didn't send me to do it with a lot of fancy rhetoric of my own, lest the powerful action at the center—Christ on the Cross—be trivialized into mere words.
18-21The Message that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer silliness to those hellbent on destruction, but for those on the way of salvation it makes perfect sense. This is the way God works, and most powerfully as it turns out. It's written,

I'll turn conventional wisdom on its head,
I'll expose so-called experts as crackpots.
So where can you find someone truly wise, truly educated, truly intelligent in this day and age? Hasn't God exposed it all as pretentious nonsense? Since the world in all its fancy wisdom never had a clue when it came to knowing God, God in his wisdom took delight in using what the world considered dumb—preaching, of all things!—to bring those who trust him into the way of salvation.

6-10We, of course, have plenty of wisdom to pass on to you once you get your feet on firm spiritual ground, but it's not popular wisdom, the fashionable wisdom of high-priced experts that will be out-of-date in a year or so. God's wisdom is something mysterious that goes deep into the interior of his purposes. You don't find it lying around on the surface. It's not the latest message, but more like the oldest—what God determined as the way to bring out his best in us, long before we ever arrived on the scene. The experts of our day haven't a clue about what this eternal plan is. If they had, they wouldn't have killed the Master of the God-designed life on a cross. That's why we have this Scripture text:

No one's ever seen or heard anything like this,
Never so much as imagined anything quite like it—
What God has arranged for those who love him.

But you've seen and heard it because God by his Spirit has brought it all out into the open before you.

I Corinthians 1:17-21 and 2:6-10 (The Message)

So, where do we go to claim our red rubber noses?

Wisdom and Folly

2008-01-25T09:40:00.000-05:00

Our SoulPerSuit group going through the book of Proverbs has been contrasting wisdom and folly.

What marks a person as a fool?
What makes a person wise?
Are fools destined to be fools forever? Is there any hope?
What does the world consider wisdom, and how does it compare to what the Lord defines as wisdom?
Is there a foolishness that masquerades as wisdom?
Is there wisdom that appears to be foolishness?

I only have an answer for the last question today.

Comparing "The Enticers" to Lady Wisdom in Chapter 1 of Proverbs, I get a sense of secret whispering and the low tones of the foolish sinners. "The Enticers" want to keep their ways under wraps, speaking out of the sides of their mouths. They're keeping it cool, looking acceptable on the surface.
Not so with Lady Wisdom! She's in the busy marketplace, at the corners of the streets, shouting her invitation to the world- "Come to me and find life! Ask me and I shall pour out my riches!"

Wisdom is willing to look like a fool in public so that she may save just one ignorant youth from destruction. Wisdom makes a ruckus. She makes a spectacle of herself. She causes a scene. Without concern for her own reputation or the opinion of her neighbors, Lady Wisdom pleads with any who will listen.

Someone else was scorned and despised. He called out to the spiritually ignorant wherever and whenever he found them. He shouted in the marketplaces. He stopped traffic. We esteemed him not. There was nothing within him that we should be drawn to him. And he did not consider equality (and social standing) with God something to be grasped. We thought he was a fool.

Jesus Christ was willing to become a fool in the eyes of the world in order that he might purchase us from the slave market of sin.
"And if that makes me crazy, they can call me crazed. I'm happy to be seemingly naive..."

Our adventure in Stewardship

2008-01-23T15:45:00.000-05:00

Hi, this is Ellie and Rebekah.

We did a school project that helped the neighborhood.

We did a unit on stewardship, stewardship means using and not

abusing what God has given us.

We cleaned our neighborhood sign.

This is what the sign looked like before we cleaned
it.

We took off the letters on the
sign and cleaned them.
Once they were dry,
we made funny words
out of the letters.

Our neighbors wanted to
help too.

Ellie, don't paint the camera!

Rebekah's painting the back of
the sign.

This is our little sister, Anna.
She's helping paint the sign
Isn't she CUTE?!!!

This is Ellie, Mom and Dad.
E is for Ellie,
S is for Steve,
and T is for our last name.

Rebekah is holding the letters
while Dad drills them in.

This is the sign after we

finished.
Ellie felt important and proud.
Rebekah felt that we had done something good.
The neighbors kept saying even now how
a great job we did.
Stewardship goes with cleaning our
sign because now we don't have to
buy a new sign.