Adding to the Beauty

To whom I would send flowers on Mothers Day

2011-05-07T22:22:00.002-04:00

Of all the days of the year, the most painful for me happens to be Mother’s Day. I figured I’d get over it when I had children of my own, but I’m still not quite there yet (even though someone told my daughter about breakfast in bed and she has been trying to find out all week which cereal I would pick, in her own sneaky way, and has requested ever so kindly that I make sure that on Saturday night the ‘milk is on the bottom shelf of the fridge where she can reach it, and isn’t too full’). When all the hallmark commercials jewellery ads and spa flyers start up, there is suddenly list of things people thank mothers for and it breaks my heart. I lost my mom to cancer when I was little, and while there have been many incredible people in my life, no one else can take this place. It occurred to me today that the most painful part of this for me is the memories of all the moment in which I wish I had had a mother to talk to, to be with, to ask questions to. That I can’t fix. The second thing is an unbounding gratitude in my heart and no particular person upon which to lavish it. That I know I can remedy in a small way. So here it is. If I had the courage (and maybe someday I will) there are so many people to whom I would like to send flowers on Mothers Day- almost too many to count!

To the woman who taught me how to take a compliment, though it took a long time

To the two unlikely men who taught me it was okay to cry, and often necessary

To the woman who taught me to love making food

To the man who taught me, without trying to, the value of tenacity and holding ones ground until adversaries had moved on

To the woman who showed me that life lived by God’s Word was going to look weird sometimes, but was worth it

To the woman who showed me what joy really looks like

To the woman who reminded me that life is allowed to be fun

To the woman who made me take one of the most frightening risks in my life because she knew I had it in me

To the man who taught me the way to freedom is to praise God for the darkest times in my life (to whom I will forever be indebted)

To the man who showed me the healing power of poetry, writing and listening to those words inside my head instead of shutting them out

To the woman who gave me countless chances to be a leader long before anyone else thought I was really ready

To the woman who walked with me in prayer for a few weeks of my life and forever changed how I saw God
To the woman who taught me that being feminine and submissive didn’t have to mean being stupid

To the three woman who taught me about inductive Bible Study and gave me a level of wisdom to aspire to.

To the woman who was not afraid of my weaknesses and not afraid to show me hers as well

To three women who are so madly in love with their husbands that I have learned much from them about loving my own

To the woman who encouraged me to seek God for the paths I should take in parenting rather than books and manuals and rules

To the woman who taught me that hospitality is not about having a spotless house

To the two women who I respect so much as mothers of their children who have given me courage and perseverance

To the man who gave me permission to not live like I was dying just because my mother had died so young – and gave me permission to live my own life

And countless more. To all of you, I thank you. Happy Mother’s Day.

In my heart I celebrate all the incredible people –men and women- God has brought into my life, to lead and guide and teach me, to talk and walk and laugh with me.

And to all of you who are Mothers – never once doubt how important you are in the life of your child, whether they acknowledge it or not. The absence of my mom is an absence I feel every day of my life. Happy Mothers Day.

What Choir has Taught Me

2011-05-04T20:27:00.001-04:00

So for the last year and a half every Thursday night you can find me at choir practice. Being a member of the church choir is just the right amount of being involved and being an invisible face in the crowd to attract me. There’s a part of me that only feels alive when I’m singing. Plus, it’s a few hours of the week where I don’t have to worry about the details of my household, the status of laundry, where my children last placed there beloved whatchamacallit and instead to just loose myself in something that works my body and brain enough for me to stop thinking for a while (that’s a rare thing!)

Recently, I was thinking (while not at choir) about how choir has changed the way I think in several important areas of my life, and whether you can relate to this experience or not I’d like to share with you some of what I’m learning.

People are allowed to be wrong.

Our choir director has a happy habit of saying “Always trust your conductor and never trust your conductor”. I guess you’d have to know him to hear how this comes out – two true statements expressed with equal certainty. But it is true. For months our conductor forgot to bring in the choir on a set of ‘oooooos’ behind the soloist. If we relied on him, we would never have come in. Once he brought us in when according to our score, we had a few bars to go– and it was good that we didn’t follow him – but for the most party the conductor is very trustworthy.

I’m a big fan of authority. Really, really am. I would make a first-rate golden retriever. When someone ‘in charge’ gives me a job to do, my husband says he can see my invisible tail wag in happiness. So I love having someone tell me what to sing and how to sing it. The flip side of this of course is that I have great difficulty accepting that people – especially people I admire in any way- make mistakes. But somehow choir is beginning to teach me to balance the ‘always trust’ with a little ‘never trust’ and realize that only my God is infallible and people are allowed to make mistakes (even me).

Half- Voices from the choir don’t make the soloist sound better.

A new friend and I were talking last night about what we really hate about women sometimes. Mostly the fact that we always feel like we have to make ourselves less, hide who we really are so as not to make others feel badly about themselves. We both feel easier around men because we don’t have to constantly put ourselves down to maintain conversation. (If this is not your experience, consider yourself blessed to have a group of friends who lets you be who you are!) In choir, I am always fighting myself not to have a timid voice. I can sing with a very full voice when I want to, but I am often afraid to be heard over others in my section or that I might sing a wrong note. Our choir director has been urging us lately to sing with full voices, to be unafraid, and make mistakes loudly. This goes against everything I’ve always been – but I’ve just realized that a whole lot of dim half-voices from the choir doesn’t make the soloist sound any better. It’s all of us singing with all we are that makes the best sound. I saw a quote somewhere to this effect once – the woods would be silent if only but the best bird sang. Something like that. I’m sure it’s on a mug or a cross stitched wall hanging somewhere. Anyway, I know that when the rest of my section is belting it, I feel free to do the same. Being strong in who I am can have the effect of helping others to shine brightly too, and doesn’t diminish them. I’m trying not to be afraid of being a leader, being smart, feeling pretty, being good at stuff. That’s singing my part well, with all I am and all God made me.

I am not alone.

I like people. They also ~~make me want to hide under my bed~~ make me nervous. I would usually prefer to go for days without talking to anyone outside my immediate family. But a choir’s sound (and I love the sound of a choir as much as I do the sounds that leave my friends around a campfire) is reliant on not just a lot of voices, but a lot of voices that are very very different listening to one another. (If this isn’t the best training for being a good church member or member of any community really, I don’t know what is!). I think about the neighbours I live around – and realize it’s the neighbours that have asked me for help (walking their dog when they are out of town, building a patio, watching their children) who I am closest with. They weren’t afraid to show me they had a weakness and ask for help, and I respond – and I feel free to ask things of them. It is good to remember we all need to help each other – as much as I need the alto section to know when my little second soprano part comes in. Being in a choir reminds me that all day, every day of my life I am surrounded by people. I need those people to accomplish anything, and they need me. If I am feeling alone – it’s as simple as acknowledging that I need them and they need me and opening my front door to find someone I can help.

So that’s it. I’m looking forward to a new short post-Easter choir season beginning shortly, and I’m anxiously waiting to see what God has for me in it. And this is what I’ve been learning so far. What has God been teaching you lately?

Learning Hospitality

2009-03-24T14:40:00.000-04:00

I have 2 dozen chocolate chunk cookies in a lovely container and a chicken pie sitting in my freezer. I made them the weekend before last with the intention of dropping them off to my neighbour who is going through a very difficult time right now and would probably appreciate them. But they are still here, because, well, I think I just didn’t have enough courage to go knock on her door. Terrified is probably a better word. Terrified that my efforts at loving her family will be laughed at, or rejected. And yet, this is what I asked God for… practice learning to love people.

So the cookies are too stale to give anyone now, but I’ve moved on in my ambitious quest to learn how to be hospitable. Last Saturday I had some people over for dinner, and I think it went fairly well. After telling a number of different people “we’d love to have your family over for dinner!” and hearing “we’re very busy” over and over, one family finally said “we’re busy. But we could make it work”. So I went with that. All day I practiced things to talk about, and practiced breathing deeply, and we had a completely wonderful time except for the fact that I completely forgot to offer coffee and tea after dinner, and have been beating myself up about that since then. Now I am still afraid to try the cycle over again and ask around to see who might be able to come but I have had one more success than failure. I’m getting excited about the warmer weather because that means we might be able to use our backyard space and invite somewhat large families over that simply can’t be accommodated around my little dining room table!

I thought I was ready for a bigger step, but it turns out I am freaking out just a little bit.

I decided a great way to practice hospitality would be to host a party – one of those selling-something parties where all I do is make some food and clean and people have a reason to come more than my witty banter (which is frankly rare). I was talked into it by two different friends who really wanted to come to something like this, so I took the plunge. My Usborne Book Party is tomorrow night. I really wish I could stop worrying so much about it! Yes it’s very small and the people who previously committed to coming are now phoning to cancel. I’m just hoping I can make it through this, and remember the things I’m supposed to about offering food and drinks and making people feel comfortable in my home!

This is another little thing about hospitality I’m learning – having a spotless house and the best food doesn’t necessarily make people very comfortable at all. Being real does.

My daughter’s Kindergarten Prep class started meeting two months ago, and the first day I dressed her in her best, and put on what I would normally wear on a Sunday. I wore makeup, I straightened my hair, I wore good shoes. And not one person there talked to me. As I looked around the other moms were mostly in sweats and not one of them wore makeup. Most of them were considerably older than me, and they all looked like they knew so much more than me. I didn’t blame them for moving on quickly after I said hello. The next week I wore my normal day clothes (I still wore makeup, but only because I feel more nervous without it) and suddenly everyone was friendly!

I guess I’m guilty of this too. My friends with immaculate houses I would never in a million years invite to mine. I’m sure they would find it a disgrace. And I don’t feel comfortable there – like anything I do is going to disorder their perfect world.

I’m writing this post mostly to myself so that when I come and look back a year from now I can laugh at how I used to struggle so much with this. With the pride that is thinking too little of myself with the fear of others judgment of my life with the cluelessness I feel in loving others well. I pray that as I push myself through this mess something on the otherside will give glory to God. Maybe helping others to be comfortable here means being clean, and putting others first but more importantly being real. Maybe hospitality is more about the effort than the outcome. Maybe I’ll make it through Wednesday night!

2009-02-25T07:24:00.002-05:00

So it's been a while since I've posted, but I'm not ashamed... blogging was only going to be something I did in my spare time, not something I went out of my way to make time for, and spare computer time of mine has lately been taken up with watching Mark Driscoll sermons and studying my Bible (thank you, Bible Gateway!)

Which brings me to the point of this post about a contest I'm letting any of you know about who might care (and posting about because I'd LOVE to win).

Bible Study Magazine and Mars Hill are giving away 20 copies of Mark Driscoll’s new book, Vintage Church. Not only that, but they are also giving away five subscriptions to Bible Study Magazine and a copy of their Bible Study Library software! Enter to win on the Bible Study Magazine Mark Driscoll page, then take a look at all the cool tools they have to take your Bible study to the next level!

My Kids are Crazy

2009-01-27T07:56:00.003-05:00

I think it's every mom's responsibility to think her children are special and brilliant and unlike every other child in the whole world. Let me tell you that I am aware of this, and aware it sounds just plain annoying to non-mom's and even other mom's. So take all I say here knowing that I know that about myself.

While I think my kids are both special and brilliant I also think they are crazy.

Take last night for example.

Miranda has been learning how to read this month, and while she can make it through the first half of the Bob Books set 1, she has become far more interested in learning how to read and spell words that are in here sphere of interest. Words like play, though we haven't got into vowel blends yet, are very interesting to her, so we go with it.

So last night Jason and I were sitting in the living room talking while he plugged in the laptop and got some other things ready for a Missionary recruiting gig he has today, we heard a fury of footsteps above our head that sounded like Miranda running from her bedroom to the stairs, and back to her bed again. So Jason went up to see what the fuss was all about. On the top of the stairs was a note.

I EPy

MiRANDA

Jason laughed to himself and went into her room for the translation. The story is, apparently, that she had dropped her precious stuffed puppy, and didn't know where he was. She missed puppy. She knew she wasn't to get out of her room to tell us about this (this has happened before) so she wrote us a note so that we would know when we came upstairs. She intended to write "I miss puppy" but she couldn't think of the word for 'miss' and she tried to spell puppy herself! We'll have to work on reading that word today. :) Jason was good not to burst into a fit of laughter while up there with her, but we laughed a great deal downstairs afterwards. I think it's great that she thought to write a note. What I don't understand is what would make her mind think that instead of getting off her bed to pick puppy off the ground, she would be better served by searching her room for a paper and pencil and writing us a NOTE and then leaving it on the stairs and scurrying back to bed?? Really!

Now Simon on the other hand is doing weird things too. It must be all these days in a row each week stuck inside our house. He's mostly past his toilet-diving phase and but is still really fascinated by the bathroom. Two days ago, he wiggled free of my grasp and crawled up the stairs at lightning speed. I went after him only to find him in the bathroom, up on Miranda's bathroom stool, with his toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. He needed to brush his teeth, I guess! Since then he's been up there brushing 4-5 times a day. Anytime we're on the top floor, really. And at 14 months he's way better at it than Miranda was up until just recently! The kid has a thing for orall hygine, I guess! He also may be toilet trained before he is two. He is very curious of toilet useage, but lately only when Jason goes. Yesterday, as I was brushing my own teeth in the bathroom, Simon pushed the stool up to the toilet, stepped up onto it, pulled down his pants and was trying to figure out how to undo is diaper! The sight of him trying to pee like a big boy nearly made me fall over with laughter! Wow. I hvae to remind myself that at this age Miranda hadn't even taken her first steps! The two of them are so different it's hard to beleive they are related!

My kids are crazy. They make me laugh.

Scenes from the Summer

2009-01-14T16:48:00.016-05:00

Really, January has only just begun but it's already been a rough month for me. I love winter in its time but I don't have anything especially to look forward to right now - and try as I might to possibly coerce my children to come outside and build a snowman with me or something they are clearly uninterested in being cold and wet (Go figure...they are just like their dad!). Oh well, with my thyroid issues it would take me hours to come back to normal body temperature anyway. Maybe I’m getting a little bit of cabin fever, or maybe it’s just that I’ve run out of ideas of what to do with a three year old but I'm absolutly looking forward to spring. Anyway, I thought hat scrapbooking some of my summer pictures might brighten my spirits and remind me that yes, my kids have once seen the light of the sun. (And to remind myself what the sun looks like!)

If you are interested in a few pages from our summer, here you go. :)

(Titles are linked to my gallery for credits if you care about such things)

Scenes from the Beach

Off the Dock

Playground Princess

Summer of the Turtle Pool

The Story Teller

Painting Pictures of Egypt

2009-01-11T22:40:00.003-05:00

So there is this place that my mind goes back to when I’m beginning to panic and I’m trying to hold back tears. And a place I am reminded of in my sweetest moments. This place feels like bare feet stretched out in long grass, like the smell of a summer forest after a fierce rainstorm, like warm river water washing over my shoulders, like the feeling of complete and utter freedom in waking up from a night sleep under the full moon and stars. It is a place where I first discovered the communion that is possible when friends shed the masks and layers of youthful self consciousness until all that remains is the nakedness of words and the truth of our souls laid bare before one another by firelight. It is a place where I discovered that there are others who are willing to care about me unconditionally and be concerned enough with my soul to shepherd and mentor me and give of their life to me for God’s sake. It’s a place I learned not just to believe in myself- though that began to happen-, but to believe in God.

And it is a place I was given, though I didn’t deserve it, leadership and opportunity to give of myself and serve Jesus until there were days when I wasn’t even conscious of myself – just the community of believers and those we served. I was wood consumed in the fire, joyfully, having tasted that place never wanting to return to the world outside. The rhythm of the day could not be replicated elsewhere… I had formal times of prayer alone or with others no less than 12 times a day – taught 3 hours of Bible study and leadership classes, was taught and mentored for an hour, and found myself doing all matter of tasks in between from washing dishes and toilets to leading songs and telling stories, to writing curriculum and leading children to Christ. I saw miracle after miracle there. My muscles were strong and my skin dark from the sun.

I met people there unlike any I’ve ever found elsewhere. I found people like me. I found a place where I didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hide, didn’t have to try so hard to figure out the game that I forgot to laugh. I hold onto the remembrance of this place fiercely.

A few weeks ago I was in the car, praying and thinking as Jason drove and the kids slept and I had put on a new cd that a friend had given to me – Sara Groves Conversations. And I was just praying for Camp Cherith (the place I went to camp every summer for 8 years as a child, and spent 10 summers of my life as staff) that God might give me a chance to return there in some way, or find a way that I can help the ministry of the camp from where I am.

And this song comes on : Painting Pictures of Egypt. And being the first time I’d ever heard this song, the following lyrics struck me like a blow to the stomach:

And the places I long for the most
Are the places where I’ve been
They are calling out to me
Like a long lost friend

And the place I was wasn’t perfect
But I had found a way to live
And it wasn’t milk or honey
But then neither is this

I've been painting pictures of Egypt,
Leaving out what it lacks
The future feels so hard,
And I wanna go back!
But the places that used to fit me,
Cannot hold the things I've learned
Those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned!

And it definetly struck me – I have been complaining to God and begging him to show me how to be fruitful where I am, because daily I am frustrated at feeling worthless, fruitless, living a life void of purpose which is the exact opposite of how I should be spending my days! But perhaps the reason I cannot be fruitful in any of the endeavors I have tried to pour myself into here – on the other side (post-Cherith) is because I haven’t let go. And I haven’t come to accept that there may be other things for me to do and to be now.

Maybe I have to accept that for a long while, it might look like nothing.

Five years ago, it was about this time that I was sitting in the auditorium of Willow Creek church, watching a gangly man with a charming voice prepare to address 5 thousand children’s ministry workers and explain in words we could understand what had lead to the downfall of Big Idea. I feel blessed to this day to have heard Phil Vischer speak. He told of his chase after a vision he thought he was supposed to have and how it ruined his life and the lives of hundreds around him, and that God pulled him from that wreak to show him that now, where he is in 5 years is not his business, it’s God’s. It is interesting in the Christian world today – especially in some ministry circles it is pretty cool to have a ‘vision’ to deal with strategic planning to have a growth plan and to treat God’s work that you just happen to be a part of as something you can actually control by reading enough books by John C. Maxwell. I was getting on that train myself. I had plans and a vision for myself in children’s ministry. I thought if I worked hard enough at it, read the right stuff I would actually begin to like it as much as I LOVED working at Cherith and I would have success and fruit and I had my plan as to how I was going to get ‘there’. Well, Phil up on that stage, who is as successful as any Christian these days could possibly get posed the question : For the first 100 years of his life, what did Noah do to prepare for his BIG JOB of building the ark? Huh. I don’t remember anything in my Sunday School memory of the first 100 years of Noah’s life. No mention of shipbuilding school, zoology degrees, internships with the great carpenters. All the Bible tells us is that for one hundred years Noah walked with God. That’s all. And he didn’t try and plan it, create a strategic plan to get himself there. It happened to him, because he was walking with God.

Phil Vischer – creator of Veggie Tales - now has a new company – Jellyfish Media. He chose the Jellyfish because it is unable to locomote – all it can do is go where the tides take it.

Reminding myself of this doesn’t stop the nostalgia for a place where I felt loved, and fruitful, and useful to God. A place where I was in constant community. But it seems I have a lot of praying to do about this. Now is not the right time in the life of my family to give myself over to a ministry, no matter how much I believe in it. Now is the time to simply walk with God. And it might mean I never get to go back there. Being in the wilderness for a while is okay, and won’t last as long if I am following God. And of course – at the other end is what?

Hope.

The promised land.

Whatever it looks like I must remind myself if where I have come from was so beautiful, My God will provide beauty in the now, and the what is to come too.

Food My Kids Will Eat Friday

2009-01-09T09:31:00.005-05:00

I really do want my children to eat good food. I do. But sometimes they just don't like the look of vegetables, or they are not in the mood to eat when I've made a big beautiful meal, and quite frankly I could be a far better example of the kinds of foods that one should readily consume. My children know they have to eat some of what I serve, but everyone is happier when I hit on those magic meals that they will gobble up happy (and are healthy).My three year old knows she loves the taste of chocolate chunk cookie dough. She also loves her brocolli - when prepared right.

Since it's taken me a while to find some of these foods my kids LOVE and eat unconditionally (and because I try and feed them food that's fun at least a few times a week, when I have the energy) I'm aiming to make "Food my kids will eat Fridays" a regular thing so I can share these recipes with any other mom who could use them. That's the plan anyway.

So without further ado, (and I'm sure I've spelled that wrong) this is my recipe for

'Popcorn Soup' which Miranda goes nuts for, and is actually healthier than it sounds. :)

POPCORN SOUP

¼ cup butter

1 clove garlic (optional)

¼ cup onion chopped

2 cup carrot chopped

1 cup celery

3 tbsp flour

3 cups chicken broth

2 cups cheddar grated

1cup milk or light cream

Dash cayenne salt and pepper

1 cup popped popcorn and/or crackers to garnish

Melt the butter, add chopped veggies and cook until they soften. Blend in flour,stirl until just cooked and no longer dry and then remove from heat. Wisk in chicken broth. Return ot heat and stir while mixture thickens. Add salt or seasoning to taste. Blend mixture in blender until no visable chunks of vegetables remain. Return to heat add milk, then add cheese a small amount at a time stiring in a '8' until blended.

Serve with a small handful of popcorn in each bowl, or fish crackers. :)

* other blended vegetables in here works well - some red pepper, potato, zuchini, etc. whatever is on hand.

New Year, New Books

2009-01-02T11:55:00.015-05:00

So here we are at the beginning of a beautiful new year – and I wanted to post a little something here since it’s been a while. Not that I haven’t had much to say, but there has definitely been a lack of time available to think about blogging!
I had a very quiet New Years, with my family (Jason included) fast asleep shortly after 9:00pm, I didn’t bother to wait until the clock struck 12 to be in bed myself. I know. Lame. But I’ve never really been big on giant New Years celebrations. In fact, I haven’t made it to midnight the last 5 years and I actually feel no remorse whatsoever.I've also not been one to set New Years resolutions much – I’m pretty much always setting goals for myself, and trying to improve on things. And after once reading Jonathan Edwards Resolutions I realize that I never, ever will be resolute enough about something to bother calling it a resolution. Compared to that man, I am a girl of very little discipline.

Mostly this year I want to remember to live in all the areas of my life that are important to me each day :

the spiritual self
the creative self
the intellectual self
the physical self
the self-in-community

That means making sure I do something for that part of me each day. I find I

am a much happier person when I’m dwelling in the presence of God, and can read something or learned something, when I've got a bit of exercise, talked to a real-life person and spent

some time cr

eating something beautiful.Since I have some Christmas money from generous grandparents, I was able to do a little shopping to help motivate some good habits. For myself, I am starting two new devotion books, recommended to me by two women I hold in very high esteem -

The Valley of Vision : Puritan Prayers and Devotions

Just looking at the table of contents for this book makes me WANT to think like the puritans, put God first like they do, be disciplined and well, I have no doubt that regular exposure to these prayers and writings will hurt but do my soul good.

Look Unto Me : Devotions of Charles Spurgeon

Since Deb at tuesday prayer meeting mentioned that she used to rea

d Morning by Morning to her children when they were young, I figured Spurgeon had to be more accessable than I orginally assumed (having never read anything by him). I have since been reading Spurgeons Morning by Morning and Evening by Evening regularly thanks to a handy-dandy Google App, but I really would like to be able to read these whereever I am and not HAVE to be at my computer (where there are oh-so-many other distactions!)And this is a nice edition with extra scripture and thoughts for reflection. Since I haven't been able to steal away time enough for large portions of worthwhile things to read, these devotions are one page long, and are powerful enough to stick with me for days and weeks and colour my prayers and actions in a dramatic way.

For Miranda, I want to plan her day taking care of all the areas of her self too. We have the past few days started learning to read and doing more math- both things she is loving. Being creative

is a

regular part of our day anyway, and I’m not afraid to get out

paints. But I needed to spend more intentional time showing her the way to God. And a few months ago I found this book

God and Me

Which I just have to say is PERFECT for a three year old. Miranda wanted to read the whole thing when we started. She loves the photographs of kids doing things she loves, and the prayers and short devotional very much in her world. It will be a good warm up, and a good way to force ME to do this with her everyday since she will ask for it every morning!

She has been enjoying the daily Bible passage from that devotional too which I read out of my Bible - but since she didn't have her own actual Bible, I decided to buy this one with money her great-grandparents gave her (just don't tell them it isn’t KJV!)

International Children's Bible

I actually like the ICB version for using with kids (up until about

age 7) and I figure it will suit her until she wants a 'cool' looking Bible around age 11 or so. Then we can get her a nice (if trendy-covered) ESV.

The Jesus Storybook Bible

And I've saved the best for last! This is the most fabulous Story Bible I've ever come accross, by Sally Lloyd Jones and illustrated by Jago. We’ve been reading for a year now but I hope this year to read aloud to her more often – especially times when she loves to be read to, like while eating lunch. We tried at bedtime, but Goliath showed up in nightmares so we've moved this to day-time reading. I think every child and every adult should own this book, or at least read it. Not only are all the (biblically accurate) stories told as a beautiful story (rather than an encyclopedia entry which is the case with so many childrens story bibles) but every story centers on Christ, and his saving work on the Cross( Since last year, I have give 5 of these away as gifts). The stories are beautiful and rhtymic, perfect for reading aloud and of all the children's books I've collected for artwork alone, this is my favourite. Just beautiful.

So these are some of the tools I am hoping to use to work on my spiritual self a little more intentionally this year. We’ll see how it goes.

Do you have any New Years goals? What have you done to help you accomplish them already?

Less Nuts is Good (some logical notation and a few recipes)

2008-12-18T08:29:00.006-05:00

This is something you would learn about me if you baked anything with me. I like to add more of stuff. TO everything. I somehow feel that I must make every recipe better so people say 'MMMmm this is the best cupcake/brownie/cookie/soup/turkey/chickencordonbleu I've ever tasted! it's kind of what I've got time to be good at around here, so I do what I can. It drives my brother crazy - he's a good cook and a decent baker when he wants to be, but he's worked in restaurants and is pretty much trained to follow the recipe. Me? I never make anything the same twice. It usually has to be 'improved'.

Which is probably why my bisoctti has NEVER worked.
Okay, so the first year wasn't that horrible (probably because Erika or Thea were there with me to keep me reasonable). But every subsequent year, we've had biscotti disaster. This year, it struck me.
Maybe when the recipe SAYS to use 3/4 of a cup of pistachios, it really MEANS 3/4 of a cup pistachios and I should not add an extra half a cup to make it 'better'.

WOW.

So I gave it a try this year, and followed the recipe. And guess what? Most beautiful biscotti EVER! It didn't crumble to a million tasty pieces when I tried to slice it because it didn't have too many nuts. It sliced and baked beautifully (and if I hadn't forgotten about that last tray I'd have four dozen lightly golden slices right now instead of three...we'll work on that for next year).

I guess I had formulated the fallacy in my brain that

I guess I had formulated the fallacy in my brain that if nuts are yummy then more nuts will equal more yummy (formal notation deleted, because it fights with the html in my post and I don't have a clue how to rectify it)

. My logic’s a little rusty. But I wanted to share this because I can see this year that sometimes my desire to add more and more and more can sometimes impair my ability to enjoy Christmas also. Sometimes, maybe lots of times, less nuts is good. So with that, here is my really-delicious recipe for Christmas biscotti. Add only the amount of pistachios called for. J I’m not, however, going to instruct you on the amount of chocolate coating to use… Cranberry Pistachio Biscotti

2 cups all-purpose flour1

1/2 teaspoons baking powder

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature

1 teaspoon grated lemon zest

1/4 teaspoon salt2 large eggs

3/4 cup pistachios, coarsely chopped

2/3 cup dried cranberries

12 ounces good-quality white chocolate

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a heavy large baking sheet with parchment paper. Whisk the flour and baking powder in a medium bowl to blend. Using an electric mixer, beat the sugar, butter, lemon zest, and salt in a large bowl to blend. Beat in the eggs 1 at a time. Add the flour mixture and beat just until blended. Stir in the pistachios and cranberries. Form the dough into a 13-inch long, 3-inch wide log on the prepared baking sheet. Bake until light golden, about 40 minutes. Cool for2 hours.. Place the log on the cutting board. Using a sharp serrated knife, cut the log on a diagonal into 1/2 to 3/4-inch-thick slices. Arrange the biscotti, cut side down, on the baking sheet. Bake the biscotti until they are pale golden, about 15 minutes. Transfer the biscotti to a rack and cool completely. Stir the chocolate in a bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water until the chocolate melts. Dip half of the biscotti into the melted chocolate. Gently shake off the excess chocolate. Place the biscotti on the baking sheet for the chocolate to set. Sprinkle with the sugar crystals. Refrigerate until the chocolate is firm, about 35 minutes. The biscotti can be made ahead. Store them in an airtight container up to 4 days, or wrap them in foil and freeze in resealable plastic bags up to 3 weeks.

So there you have it. Thoughts on being nuts at Christmas (a natural inclination of mine) and a pretty good recipe. AND for you lucky few who found your way here, a peek at my Christmas baking. :) If anyone wants any of my other recipes, I don't keep any of them secret - let me know if you want my sugar cookie, springerle, peppermint bark, chocolate mint cookies or shorbread recipes!)
I hope YOU are having a wonderful week preparing for Christmas too. :)

And so it begins...

2008-12-04T08:37:00.009-05:00

I haven't written for a while, as I have been busy gearing up to December first (when 'Christmas' in my house begins..). At this moment all presents are bought, but a few still have to be made - as of yesterday the Christmas cookies are almost all done and the house is decorated. I LOVE this time of year, but what I am loving most is sharing the miricle of Christ's birth with my daughter. This is the Advent calendar I made for her - we're on day 4 obviously, and each day she has been excited to open the tissue and find a candy, an activity to do together and the day's Bible reading from our Advent plan. I must say that getting on a regular habit of family Bible reading is harder than I thought it would be - especially with Jason not usually coming home until after the rest of us have eaten supper (I was hoping to do this every night at our evening meal) and that being the height of the kinds cranky period. Any suggestions are welcome. :)
The Advent calendar was fun to make - I saw the idea on someone's blog, but the link to the person who made it first was no longer working. It was easy enough to save up 25 paper tubes over a few months, and wrap them with printed scrapbook paper and some elements I printed off and glued to chipboard. Add some cute numbers, and we're done! :) The hardest part was coming up with 24 fun things to do that were manageable for me in the month when so many other things pop up... Here's the list as it stands so far! (feel free to skip to the end if you like)

1. Set up Nativity and read the Christmas story

2. Make pinecone birdfeeders

3. Bakie cookies with Neena and Grandpoo (grandma and grandpa)

4. Decorage Gingerbread boys & girls

5. Go to church for prechool movie night : a Charlie Brown Christmas!

6. Make paper snowflakes and trees for the windows

7. Make Christmas Potpourri

8. Make Cinnamon Clay Ornaments

9. Grandpoo and Neena coming over to babysit

10. Make Shrinkydink 'jewelry'

11. Build Bethlehm out of blocks and read "The Something Wonderful"

12. Uncle Andrew coming over - bake/sing Christmas songs

13. Make Snowman Family (if there's snow!)

14. Take items we've been collecting for the YAC to church

15. Playdough Day

16. Friends coming over to play

17. Build an indoor "igloo" (fort day!)

18. Paint frames for Christmas gift pictures

19. Skaing Party

20. Wrap Christmas Presents

21. Church Day

22. Make Snowglass

23. Go for a drive to look at Christmas lights

24. Go to church Christmas Eve

We'll see how things go this month. :) The good thing about my daughter not being able to read yet is I get to read what the fun thing we get to do is! If I don't have everything ready, we'll call it a 'Red and Green Day" and my daughter will be equally thrilled. :) Is that cheating? Maybe. :)

Let's be quiet...

2008-11-04T13:10:00.002-05:00

Last night Miranda (3) and I were walking in the dark to her ballet class three blocks from our house. It was a beautiful warm night. The moon was a thin crescent in the sky, the treet was slick and shining with rain and the sidewalks were maple-matted all the way. But these are things that I didn't really notice as I left the house. I was unhappily walking my daughter to her one and only tuition-paid activity and dreading having to make small talk wit the other moms. I was thinking about how I should have done the laundry that day so I had something less disgusting and Simon-slimed to wear in public, while trying to remember if tomorrow was garbage day and hoping I had time to get the kitchen cleaned when I got home in order to get to bed early because I felt another cold coming on... at least I hoped it was a cold...

And then I heard a little sound from beside me.

"Those clouds look so in-ter-nesting"
"Can you say that again Miranda?" I wasn't sure what word she was trying to say.
"Internesting. You know that Mommy? The clouds are internesting to me."
"Oh... Interesting? Yes, I guess they are interesting"

The clouds were in long whispy strands, coloured blues and pinks across the moon and stars.

"I like the interesting cloud on the moon, Mommy. Because its pink and I like pink."
"Yes, that is a very pretty cloud"

Silence for a moment.

"Mommy?"
"Yes, Miranda?"
"Let's just be quiet and listen to the beautiful sounds now."
"okay"

And we did. For the rest of the walk we took in the night. And I heard sounds I'm sure I hadn't registered in years. The thousands of different sounds leaves make, for instance, when they come in contact with feet, bicycles, the wind.

No one teaches presence like a child.

Imaginary Things

2008-09-30T15:06:00.003-04:00

So I've been trying to learn to laugh more, because it's good for me and because there is lots in my life to laugh at but there are definetly times when I need to learn not to.

Like when you three year old comes running into your bedroom in the middle of the night, terrified from a nightmare that she has had.

And she tells you she had a dream of a "a poop, and it had a face on it, and it was big and it was standing and it had a sad face." !

I wasn't particularly awake at 2:00am, and she had to repeat herself a few times, but in between the tears I finally understood what she was saying, I had to shove my face in my pillow to keep her from seeing that I had to laugh!

I went back to her room with her, and tucked her in and lay beside her for about half an hour, until she stopped shaking, and crying. We sung songs, prayed and talked about happy things until she was a little better. But she has not wanted to go back to sleep today, and I'm not sure how much she actually slept after that last night. She hugged her hippopotamus flashlight, turned on, and I did not take it away from her. I figure a change in batteries is worth both of us getting some sleep.

She's always had night terrors and a fairly vivid imagination - lately she's been drawing pretty hilarious things. And telling me bizare things like my elbow speaks spanish and likes mice (??!). The pictures here are things she has drawn in the past ten days or so - and these are just the ones I could find (click to see the enlarged version). I think they're pretty good for having just turned three!

Her nightmares this month have also included a family of cats, who wear spy glasses, and find their way into her room through the nightlight (which we therefore can no longer turn on). They don't do anything apprently except for meow. But she's still very scared of cats since a series of dreams she has had. Right now she keeps an imaginary snake by her bed, (named "my friend the snake") and has some (also imaginary) ants that appear around the house (named similarly "my friends the ants"). She just doesn't like me to catch her talking to them. :)

All of that I could take with a straight face. The standing poop-with-a-face, that was too much! :)

Thinking of Christmas

2008-09-24T18:14:00.004-04:00

So I actually do realize that it is still September, but every year I come to December first, and realize how unprepared I am to do all the things I really intended to do in the weeks leading up to Christmas. So this year, I'm getting a few things out of the way early. :)

I love advent calendars, and just the entire season of Advent and I'm SO excited that this year I have a child who is old enough to really participate in the whole event. So I'm thinking of making an advent calendar for us to use this year. I am hoping each day will contain a small candy or other item (thank you, Dollarama!), the passage of the Bible and corresponding questions for that day and an activity that is special for that day for her and I to do together. A few years ago when I was working at the church I put together a series of verses on the themes of love, joy, peace and hope that also told the whole of the Christmas story, with discussion questions for each verse. I'll be re-designing the whole thing this year, but the concept will be the same, so I'm half way there. But I still want to have little treasures inside too, because Miranda's greatest delight is finding things (even ones she's hidden herself!) So I really need to decide on something that is more than just a little flap, and has space to store the treasures.

These are photos I've grabbed from all over the place of different advent calendars I really love. Ali Edwards did the ones on the wall, (LOVE everything she does) the little matchbox one is Martha Stewart. And the little drawers shapped like a tree is apparently something Starbucks sold last year, with truffles inside. Since I don't have a budget for this activity, I'm really leaning towards the long advent chain made with toilet paper tubes (the pink one, at right). I figure I could at LEAST figure this out. And printing off digital scrapbooking papers to decorate this will be a breeze. (My girl Melissa Bennett will have a whole series of Christmas kits coming soon - I'm sure!)

When I was little my mother sewed us a big wall-hanging with pockets and little velcro bears that moved in between different rooms of the house, doing different activities to get ready for Christmas. I would love to be the kind of mom who just whipped up wall-quilts on a whim (wow, that's a lot of W's) but I am not, and I'm pretty sure that since I can't get around to pulling out the sewing machine to fix garments, it's not going to happen for this either. :) So paper and glue it is!

I'm still looking around for the *right* nativity set. I, being a girl who thinks too much and knows exactly what she wants, am finding nothing that meets my criteria. I don't want rubber ducks dressed as the three wise men, I don't want fuzzy bears bowing before the Christ-cub and I don't want chubby little children figures. That's just confusing. I also don't want something made of anything that will break easily, because really I want a set that my kids can play with a bit. But it also has to be pretty. Yup, I know I'm asking for a lot here!

Good thing I have a few months left to get everything together. :)

Beginnings

2008-09-24T15:18:00.007-04:00

WOW. I am finding it really difficult to believe that it is now the end of September, this week has been a big week of beginnings in our house so in my mind we're still just starting this 'year'! Last week I started going to a morning prayer group, and Jason and I started back with our cell group Bible Study. Last night was our second meeting, and I have to say I love those people so so much - I don't think I have laughed so hard in months! And we're studying the book of Romans! I know, I know. Hilarious stuff. But you really should have been there. :)

But Monday night was something new just for Miranda. I signed her up for Ballet Babies through Spectrum as soon as the catalogue came out - $20 for 8 weeks is about as close to free as I have been able to find, outside of church stuff and the Ontario Early Years Centers (which we make good use of!). I thought something like a little dance class would be good for my poor uncoordinated daughter, and her low muscle tone. She's never been especially interested in dance, but she IS especially interested in the school down the street where it is held, and above all, other little girls so it almost didn't matter at all what I signed her up for! All day monday she kept asking if she could wear her new ballet slippers and saying "I'm just so Es-sited!!" (the slippers came from Walmart and cost of all $6.00, and the leotard she wore was MINE from when I when I did ballet babies when I was three!). We walked over there in the evening, and my daughter who usually complains about having to walk up the stairs ran the whole way. And when we got to the shchool, she just ran and skipped and there was no stopping her! I was a little worried she might be the only one in a leotard (the course description said to bring children in a t shirt and shorts, with socks or slippers) but every other little girl was dressed from head to toe in a blinding assortment of pinks - some with pouffy tutus and one with what appeared to be a little tiara. Wow.

Miranda ran into the room without even saying 'bye' while I waited outside and chatted with the other moms (and tried to keep Simon from escaping) and loved every minute of her class. A big highlight was that she got a tiny sticker on her hand at the end. She was SO excited when I told her she could go back the next week! I have not seen anything so cute in a long time - a whole room full of three year olds in tutu's skipping and waving little scarves in the air to piano music. I was relieved my little one wasn't the 'crier' and didn't sit on the floor picking her nose and generally was very attentive and obedient. Even those kids were cute. Except there really was a lot of pink in there.

Miranda ran all the way home after this, which just blows my mind because I can barely get her to walk with me to the playground other nights. I was told she would always have trouble with physical activity, and there wasn't much that could improve it. I think really though, that since she looked almost as compitent as all the other girls, though more clumsy, I just need to find ways to motivate her to get up and get moving with me. (And let's face it, I definetly need to get moving more too)! So we'll see how next week goes. Three more weeks before her first 'performance'. I can't WAIT to take some photos. :)

Getting Over Myself

2008-09-19T14:20:00.001-04:00

The past few weeks I have felt quite happy that my son - now 10 months - says pretty much only one word: Mom. His first word was 'danda, refering to his sister, and then came Dad. Once he figured out how to say 'Mom', that was it. I hear him babble "mumumumum" all through the day. I just thought he loved me a lot. :) Lately, I have come to a new conclusion.
Yesterday, Simon said Mom.....

- when he saw me bring him his bottle
- when I put some cheerios in front of him
- when I put him in his high chair for lunch
- when he was trying to steal his sisters cookie

My parents watched him on tuesday night when I went to bible study, and apparently he said "Mom" the whole time, but mostly when they were feeding him.
I think in his little brain Mom=Food!
This just about broke my heart. I suppose that's not an unnatural association to have. It makes me feel all the more guilt for not being able to nurse him. Now that I have been listenig for it, Simon says "Mom" when he is hungry only. Not when we're playing, not when we're cuddling. This has lead me to think about something Pastor Mike said in his sermon on Sunday about just 'getting over yourself'.

There have been so very few times in my life when I have been able to 'get over myself'. I am very self-conscious. VERY.I remember summers at camp when my days were so consumed with doing stuff, and prayer, and people that I kind of forgot all about me. I remember washing up my muddy face and arms after a river adventure with my campers once and catching a glimpse of my face in the mirror. It surprised me all of a sudden how tanned I was, and how my hair fell differently, and how I had a few scratches on my cheek. I tried to remember when I got those scratches, and didn't remember if I had looked in the mirror that morning. Or the day before, even. In fact, I had nearly forgotten what I looked like. That moment briefly snapped me out of some sort of automatic mode I had been on, remembering myself again. But the thing is, I'd give anything to go back to the moment before that, where there wasn't a 'me' at all, just a doing, a serving, a loving. I remember what it was like to be over myself, if only for a few days. And I wonder what it would take to get to that place now...

I think the difference, of course, is community. At camp, there were few alone moments, and many many moments full of people and life and my story was one of of many in the narritive I could see all around me. I imagine that this is what it is like going on a mission trip too, or working collabritively with a lot of pepole all day doing something you love.

So how do I find community where I am? That was one reason we moved into this co-op, and I have definetly felt like this is more of a community than my apartment building. And that is the reason I took my children to playgroups through the summer, and probably a huge reason why were are intending to send our children to public school. I think that it is far too easy for me to fill my day with thoughts of myself and my children and not be as aware of those around me since we spend our hours inside this house, doing just what we please. I know I need to be more intentional about surrounding myself with actual, living people...so I will continue going to early morning women's prayer (even though it's EARLY), cell group, Sunday worship, and finding ways for my children to interact with real live people too. Even though some of the time, some of these people won't like me.

Of course, as a mother, it is natural to believe that when my son says "mom" he means me - Right? But I guess I have to be okay if it isn't. I kind of want to be the center of his universe but it isn't true now and definetly SHOULDN'T be true. And I should never want it to be true. I am not that important, not even to my only son. And really, HIS future happiness requires that I get out of the way as much as possible and help Him see God as the center of his universe. SERIOUSLY Lindy. This was just a little reminder today for me to suck it up and get over myself. :)

Contentment

2008-09-17T14:45:00.003-04:00

I have been feeling lately that everywhere I turn there is something new I *need* to have. I find myself making short lists, everything from Christmas presents to items I *need* at the pharmacy to beautiful home items, accessories and clothing online. There begins this urgency in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that if I only had this one thing or that one thing I would be happy, and I wouldn't want any more. Of course you're probably laughing reading this - because I imagine you've been there too. I think we all have. We are so easily deceived by the want of 'stuff'. I have begun to hate that in me. It hadn't as yet brought me to stop making lists or to search for the very best of everything out there (online, of course, malls overwhelm me). So I decided I needed to pick up a book I saw many years ago when I was a stacks-goblin (library page - there was a summer I worked in the basement and didn't see the light of the sun - cleaning, sorting and cataloguing the perpetual piles. The years I worked as a page I was commanded to be silent, never speak to a patron, reshelf and retrieve but never be seen = a goblin). The book is called "The Plain Reader" a group of essays by Amish and other plain folk compiled by Scott Savage. So I checked it out and have been reading it over the past few days, when I get a chance. It is breezy reading, but the ideas inside stick with me throughout the day and it has been completely absorbing.

The essays - by both men and women- all appeared in a small journal called "Plain" and cover topics from the spirituality of communal work, midwifery, how to hand wash clothes, how the Amish live without TV, personal stories of those who have left the world of technology for a simple life devoted to God, Family and Community. One of my favourite essays has been by a pastor who carefully evaluates the necessity of each piece of technology in his life. He drives a horse and buggy, from which he composes sermons on his high-end Mac Laptop! The mindset that all we do should be weighed against the effect a thing might have on our environment (which we are stewards of), the community, and our own souls. This goes beyond media choices to whether media should be welcome at all. I wonder what it would really be like to own nothing in this world, and not want for anything! Here is another short excerpt :

"The story is told of a man from the big city who moved to the country. It happened that the house and lot he bought were right in the middle of a community of plain people. The big-city man was a bit apprehensive about these bearded men who had no power lines connected to their buildings and who drove to town behind the clip-clop of horse hooves. But he assured himself that they looked gentle enough, and he had always heard that although they were different, they were quite harmless.

He was reassured on moving day when one of his plain neighbors showed up to help him unload his many belongings. The neighbor’s strong back and willing muscles came in handy, as without comment he helped carry in the usual North American assortment of electrical appliances and labor-saving, comfort-producing gadgets. That evening before leaving for his home, the plain man motioned toward all the appliances he had helped unload, and said to the big-city man, “Now, if any of these things break down, don’t hesitate to let me know, and I’ll come over.”

The man from the big city was completely taken by surprise, but quite pleased. “Oh, that’s nice,” he exclaimed. “Do you fix things?”

“No,” said the plain man. “I have no idea how to fix these things. But I will be happy to show you how to live without them.”

Wow. The first purchase we made moving into our little townhouse was a portable dishwasher. For the sake of our marriage, Jason said.  It is wonderful, I love it to pieces. I would do nothing all day BUT dishes if it weren’t for it. I can’t even imagine a life where I was only reliant on people. It kind of frightens me.

One thing that glares at me from these hand-typeset pages is the contentment of these writers in being in the place they are! They are not discontent! This seems so rare in my world. I think about ten of my friends from highschool. Each of them are very far from home...(Sri Lanka, Japan, Cambodia, Haiti, Indonesia, England, Vancouver, Nashville, Germany, Burma,...) and only two are married. None have children. (I’m the weird one). I think this will be a hallmark of my generation - this wanderlust, extensive travel after school, and an attitude towards family as something which happens after personal fulfillment and not something which fulfills. But these plain folk - Amish, Mennonite and others are content in the place they are and see a life of living in community, hard work and simplicity as the good life. Not a fat paycheck or a full passport. To contrast, many of my highschool friends voiceably pity me. They don't know how I can survive in this 'awful boring place'. I wish I could say that it doesn't bother me, that I would always rather my life than theirs. I must admit that I really wish I had had the opportunity to travel (right now, even traveling to Toronto makes me giddy...) but I must remember how very full my days are here, and how all around me are still people I havn't met with their own stories and life is very full and rich. I still experience new things every day. I still learn things about myself, and about God.

I am praying that I grow in contentment. My reading yesterday highlighted to me just how evil discontentment is...

"Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. 14But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not) the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. 16For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. 17But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace". James 3:13-18 ESV

The wisdom of this world - the voices, whether audible or not- that tell me to be discontent are false and cause 'disorder' and evil. That thing inside me wanting more and never feeling satisfied. That thing telling me that more stuff will heal something in me, make me worthy of something or beautiful or wanted or complete. The wisdom of people who live outside this world is very refreshing. It is full of mercy and good fruits. So I will be looking in the future for more wisdom. (If anyone is reading this, book or blog suggestions are welcome!)

I think today that part of living a beautiful life is seeing the beautiful where you are. That's my prayer today.

Why the Duplo is in Time Out.

2008-09-13T12:57:00.000-04:00

So this morning, Jason offered to do the grocery shopping and take Miranda out while I cleaned (BLESS him) and I was getting the playroom ready for a vacuum before they left. I asked Miranda to put away her Duplo with me so the floor was picked up.

Miranda: "No thank you mommy - you can do it"

Me: "I'm not asking you, Miranda. I'm telling you. It is your job to pick up toys you are playing with.I will help. We can each do half"

Miranda: "I don't want to pick them up."

Me: "that's too bad. If you can't pick up your toys when you are done with them, they will go away. This is your last chance. If you don't pick up your toys, they will go away"

Miranda: "Okay mommy, I will not paly with them"

???!

This is currently her favourite toy. We're talking three hours or more a day in block-time. Oh well. Right now the duplo is ontop of the freezer in the laundry room, where they will stay until she misses them. And then an extra day.

And this brings me to realize that WOW am I doing a bad job of being consistant and setting rules for her. This is the problem with my little girl. She's such a GOOD child, naturally. (the above conversation is an exception, not the rule). She is very concerned with how her behaviour makes me feel - when she is disciplined, she is primarily concerned about wheather or not I am happy or sad!
In the summer, we worked on one new rule a week, things that she was already doing - like always holding my hand when we were outside near a street, NEVER leaving the house without me - front or back yard, NEVER going into the fridge for a snack without my permission, etc. These weren't things she needed me to say to her more than once, and it didn't even cross her mind to NOT hold my hand until it became a rule. It was only after these rules were in place that she began to break them, but in a way that made me happy. It's very difficult to talk to a child about their sin if they do not REALIZE they are sinning, if there is no law before them they know they have broken.

Miranda knows the summer rules by nature, and a few more that we've been praciticing along the way (asking to be excused from the dinner table, playing only with quiet toys when Simon is sleeping, etc.) but I realize I need to be much more disciplined (myself!) about seeing what rules and structure will help Miranda to self-discipline and contentment. Like always picking up her toys.

These conversations about her own sin (along with others about the nature and presence of God, the life of Christ, etc.) are all what I am hopeing will prepare for future conversations about salvation. Right now, there is no reception to that language and those concepts - which doesn't mean it isn't used, of course, but I can see what I have to build.

The other big hole is, of course, Miranda's complete lack of understanding of death.

This again - my fault. I was talking to Nancy on thursday about this when we were planning some pre-school things this year about how the discussion of salvation, heaven, the sacrifice of Jesus is irrelevant if there is no understanding of death. But I somehow can't bring myself to explain it to her without tears. I look at her, and realize that at her age, I was sitting by my mother's hospital bed, and a by the time I was five, was praying that God would make ME die instead of her so she could stay and take care of my little brother. And I began sobbing to Nancy, realizing how much I miss - if not my mother, than having had a well mother and normal childhood. (For anyone reading this who doesn't know, my mom died of cancer when I was 10, and pretty nearly my whole childhood and beyond has been coloured by the absence of my mom). Miranda doesn't know about my mom. I can't see myself sitting down with her and breaking her heart and causing her to fear that I won't be there for her.

It's what I fear most.

(here I am crying again)

Obviously there are still deep portions of this wound and this lonliness that are far from healed. But I have to go there, I have to find a way to show her life and death and the hope in Christ and to show her tender, world-innocent little soul the truths that I know.

With Simon I can already see that teaching him the sin of his nature won't be nearly so difficult (in between this paragraph and the last, I had to rescue him from trying to go swimming in the toilet, after he pulled all of my books off the bookshelf. I have to wrap this up, obviously) but it will be harder to show him the wise and responsible choice which Miranda almost always makes after it is presented to her.

I am so thankful that God has given US His law to show us our need of him, and so thankful that he barred us from the door of Eden so we might not eat of the tree of the fruit of life - imagine, if we had no knowledge of death, if there was no death, what need would we know if our saviour? Leviticus is such a rich book showing us how God's standard covers every piece and every moment of our lives, and our fall from that standard is so complete.

And meanwhile I can only pray that GOD will teach my children's hearts and that I might not stand in the way too much of them growing in the grace and knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ!

(and that I can stick to my guns and keep the duplo in time out).

Baking Bread

2008-09-09T15:51:00.000-04:00

Last Friday I had a drive do to something with my hands... so I prepared the kids and the kitchen for a day of being productive. We made chicken noodle soup, from scratch, INCLUDING the noodles, and another giant batch of Mennonite Double-Buns (Zweiback). I can't tell you how much I *LOVE* to make bread. There is something entirely spiritual about it. Thinking on the warm brown earth that grew the wheat, the work of the farmer, the mill that crushed it into beautifully soft white flour, the alchemy that turns these simple ingredients into something that smells heavenly, only after being crushed, drowned, beaten and baked. As I was kneading, and shaping the small buns I couldn't help but think through how Christ called Himself the Bread of Life, and used bread as a symbol for his own body. (!) A body that was transformed into the beautiful and useful for salvation and the salvation of His people only after being scorned, beatened and dying. Christ became something new, as we will become something new when we are given a new body at the Resurrection. A lasting, more-real-than-reality body.
It's not a fairy tale. Think upon the transformation that bread undergoes!

Then I cleaned like a mad woman before Jason came home and whipped up an apple crisp so I could enjoy the evening with a relatively tidy kitchen (because at that point I was exahusted). It was such a satisfying thing to enjoy the fruit of physical labour by eating hot delicious soup with homemade noodles, and bread.
I have to remind myself that there is pleasure in work,and that this, after all, is what my body was made for. It felt good that night to lie down in my warm bed, feeling as though I really had accomplished something after all.

It was a little thing, but I really hope to do it more often.

The Passage of Time

2008-09-04T07:21:00.000-04:00

As I am sitting at the computer today, I heard a flock of Canada Geese flying over my house. That was the last sign I was waiting for that fall was coming. I love how it smells outside in the morning, I love the much more comfortable cooler weather, I love sweaters. I love wearing socks. I had practically forgotten how much I LOVE this time of year. There is always something to look forward to, isn't there? Even when I had a useless-day like I did yesterday!

Last night I was only woken up twice by the kids. I heard Miranda get out of bed, and walk around a little in the hallway. "What do you need Miranda?" "I need to go potty!". Alright. Sufficent cause for me to leave my cosy warm bed. Then she told me what was really bothering her (as she had hardly anything to do on the potty) "Mommy, do you see my lip" "What's wrong with your lip" "Um. I think it's tired".

Yes. I have no DOUBT that my little chatterbox of a daughter has tired lips!

Simon woke up this morning at 6:00 saying " Mom! Muuuuuuuuuummumumumum" He is finally saying a few words. Dada. 'Anda. Mum. It's so much fun to hear him saying purposeful words...my little boy is getting BIG!

Boredom

2008-09-03T18:43:00.000-04:00

I had a though through my head today, as I was lying on the couch, with both my children watching an old episode of "Blues Clues" (a current favourite, and one of a handful of preschool shows I can stomach for any length of time) when I looked up to the ceiling, around in my basement and though - this is not a life of war, this is not a life of focus, this is not a life of fullness and joy - it is a life of getting lazy on the couch. And I was struck with shame - that if God was with me He must be entirely bored by my life.
I remember times in my life when I felt I was doing something of worth and purpose. It's something that fills me with fire and passion. Doing ministry. Serving and loving People. Teaching God's Word. Learning. It's just so hard to see a life of purpose in the place I am now. It's next to impossible on a daily basis to see how any thing I am doing is adding to the beauty of God's Kingdom and bringing God glory.

Today Miranda and I made castles from blocks, put on a puppet show, made several pieces of mixed media 'art', practiced letters and numbers, played hide and seek, made lunch together, cleaned up together... Simon and I rolled a ball and climbed up the stairs a lot. These are such small pieces. And usually I am bored by them - not fired up by them. I know that creating a loving, secure place for my children to find out who they are, and who God is - to play, create, be silly and also learn is my job right now. It is just hard to see how it matters. And I know there are moms out there are who are disciplined, organized, have clean houses and whos children eat vegetables. It's just so very hard to see how to get there from here.

I guess it's good that God sees my life as a whole, and this is only a small chapter of it. I felt disappointing to God today.
Psalm 39:5
You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man's life is but a breath.

I pray that when God sees my life as a whole he is not bored by it, but is proud. I pray that I keep in my mind that I get one shot at this life, and I better make it matter.

What I want and what I need...

2008-08-31T20:59:00.001-04:00

So this is what I did this afternoon. After a little shopping trip yesterday to Costco, and around the mall looking for shoes with Jason and the kids (which was successful in the sense that I bought Simon's fall wardrobe on sale, even though Jason did not find the shoes he loved...) I was convinced once again that I NEEDED something. I needed this book. A wipe clean book for Miranda to practice her letters. She positively adores the two little workbooks she has like this, and wants to do them constantly. Costco had this book together with a wipe-clean numbers (one of Miranda's other favourite things)and another set teaching early literacy and numeracy through drawing animals and 'things that go'. So by the end of the day, this little book that I had seen in the early morning became my obsession. I needed her to have it. This afternoon, I took Simon for a walk all the way to Costco - and two hours later we arived home. It was swelteringly hot out there, not at all pleasant but I was on a mission. Whilst there, of course I saw more and more things that I 'needed'. I was beginning to drive myself crazy. I am so blessed to have a husband who manages finances so well, and models restrained spending and so very gently reminds me that what it is I think I NEED is only something I want.
Of course it is.
Left to my own devises I would be very dangerous. But I'm learning. I really would love to learn more how to be satisfied with just what I have, and stop deciding that everything I see that I could possibly imagine a use for is something I need. I have everything I could POSSIBLY need. And when it comes to books - well practically everything is available in the library anyway.
Which reminds me of a book that I saw there that I'm almost afraid to read. It's called the Plain Reader, I believe. A compilation of essays by Mennonites and Amish on living simply. Probably a lot of lessons there I could learn.

When I got home with the book Miranda was excited to open it, and then quickly frustrated. I realized after all this...I just really needed to feel like I was doing something positive for my child, doing something to help her grow and learn, something I could control that would give her a better outcome, so I could feel like not a crappy mom.

Maybe what I need is to learn to let go of all these fleeting images of who it is I'm supposed to be.

Zweiback and Good Friends

2008-08-29T16:55:00.000-04:00

So yesterday my friend Erika came to bake with me for the day - sort of a spontanious pie-making adventure that spun out into two raspberry rhubarb, two apple 4 dozen zweiback and two loaves of lemon poppy seed pound cake. :) And I just have to say that I am so beyond thankful for little gifts in my life like friends. Erika is one of the FEW people in my life that I don't feel scared talking to, who I don't have to dress up for or put makeup on before I go to mee them, and one of the few people who I am not afraid to disagree with, have spiritual conversations and laugh with. Oh, and the zweiback turned out perfectly too.

Here is the recipe

INGREDIENTS
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 cup warm water (110 degrees F to 115 degrees F)
6 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 tablespoon salt
3/4 cup shortening
2 cups scalded milk, cooked

DIRECTIONS
Scald milk, the bring to room temperature. Dissolve yeast and sugar in water; set aside. In a large mixing bowl, combine 3 cups flour, salt, shortening, milk and yeast mixture. Beat well. Add enough of the remaining flour to form a soft dough. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface; knead until smooth and elastic about 6-8 minutes. Dough should be soft. Place dough in a lightly greased bowl; cover and allow to rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour. Punch dough down and divide into four pieces. Divide three of the pieces into eight pieces each; shape into smooth balls and place on greased baking sheets. Divide remaining dough into 24 balls. Press 1 small ball atop each larger ball and poke through with your finger to make a little dimple. Buttered hands helps with this.

Cover and let rise until doubled, about 45 minutes.

Bake at 375 degrees F for 30 minutes or until golden.

And I just want to finish out with something that I found on Erika's blog that struck me as a perfect expression of what is in my heart, and a reason why I am grateful to walk with godly friends who spur me to this hunger for TRUE bread even more :

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire, O God, the Triune God. I want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy Glory, I pray Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.

-A.W. Tozer

Libraries and the Discipline of Confession

2008-08-27T21:17:00.000-04:00

Last night was one of those nights where Jason walks in the door and I had him over a screaming baby before he even has his shoes off, to go lock myself in the kitchen to finish making dinner while Miranda sings louder so mommy will hear. So my sweet kind husband suggested I take a walk after dinner while he tidied the kitchen and tried to entertain the kids. So I did. I went to the library.
I get out for a walk like that about once a week and it's so good for me - not just the little bit of exercise I get when I don't have to walk at a three year olds pace - it's good to remember what silence feels like and what my own thoughts sound like, and well, to not have to be constantly looking around me to make sure everyone is else around me is safe and happy and changed and well fed.
So I got to the library, and signed out a stack of books for Miranda, and a few magazines for myself (I still have a book or two on the go from the last trip to the library) and took care of the business that brough me there in the first place(I had a $0.30 fine on my card this time) and afterwards sat and soaked in the silence.
I always feel clean and good after paying off library fines. It really is something I try and keep on top of, but of course with all the little details in life to remember it is often something that slips through. It was a good feeling to know I was 'right' with the library system again. I always feel as though the librarians are judging me, that I have to make a good excuse for why my book was a day and a half late or blame it on someone else. Once or twice I've lied. I've stopped doing that.
This reminds me of something God has been trying to teach me lately - and that is the discipline of confession. It was a whole week ago ( LAST time I was at the library) that I remembered sitting and praying and confessing stuff to God. (And there is a LOT Of stuff). Why is it that I am so stressed about being in right relationship to the LIBRARY and am content to go weeks between sitting down and having a big confession period with God. It should be an every day thing. It should be a constant thing. I'm working on it. It is a debt I never could pay.

Confession is hard. I didn't grow up Catholic so it isn't something I'm used to. Sins are private, God forgives...it's so much easier to just not bring them to mind. But then of course, we don't see ourselves rightly. We begin to see ourselves more highly than we ought, and take for granted the grace of our Saviour.

So I'm going to try and do better at this.
I've got my library 'due back september 14th' slip beside my bed to remind me of my need to spend time in confession before God.

If only my house were as quiet as the library...

Blog Makeover

2008-08-22T15:04:00.000-04:00

So thank you to the fabulous Zoe Pearn I now have a blog Makeover. :)Isn't it pretty? I really have no idea what I'm doing with HTML but it's nice that someone else could tell me what I was doing so I too can have a pretty blog! Zoe's customizable blogwear is available at my fav digital scrapbooking shoppe www.sweetshoppedesigns.com if you want to check it out for yourselves. :)

Miranda's turning 3

2008-08-21T21:38:00.000-04:00

So Miranda's turning three on Sunday, and I totally can't believe it. In some ways it seems like my oldest daughter has ALWAYS been a part of my life, and I don't even remember what life was like before she could talk (and talk...and talk...).

I made this page about all the things she could do while she was still two. Yeah, I'm rediculously proud of her. :) This page makes me happy.

Just a reminder

2008-08-21T21:28:00.001-04:00

So I just recieved a little letter in the mail a few days ago from the directors at Camp listing all the amazing things God is doing there - even miraculous things which not being up there it is hard to believe happened. And I heard that someone I know who hasn't been to camp in a while is going back up again, someone I know camp will be blessed to have and it struck me again - that is God's place. He is taking care of it, and he knows every soul that will be there every week and He will make that place run. I often feel guilty for not being able to give and do and pour myself out for all that happens there. But it is a great reminder to me that - *I* am not needed there. Tailor once told me that leaving camp should be as smooth as pulling one's hand out of a bucket of water. The water that is left fills the space so perfectly that a hole is never noticed. If it is not this way, we are too important to camp and not letting God be in charge. If I find myself up there again, it will be because God wants to share with me what He is doing, and let me have the blessing of seeing His work. Camp doesn't need me. It's a freeing though. But I still miss it like crazy. I guess, while camp has filled the hole that I left, nothing has quite filled the hole that the absense of that place and that work has left in me. What can I say? Camp gets into ones blood....

wide awake and full of wonder

2008-08-14T08:45:00.000-04:00

i guess you could say, if i had a life goal beyond the simple manifesto of 'loving God' and 'loving others' it would be to keep myself wide awake and full of wonder. i think most of us would choose being wide awake over being half asleep and indifferent - but it is a hard thing to fight for. being wide awake in life - in 'constantly total amazment' as Shanely puts it takes hard work, and risks getting hurt and well - it fights against selfishness, which is why i need to be vigilant in this task.

so this is why i have begun a blog. when I used to be a compulsive journaller, i was very much more aware of my every day events, the things God is teaching me (whether or not I am successfully learning them or not...) all that is wonderful and good and the state of my soul. So we'll see how this goes. :) If you are joining me, and reading along -welcome. Some posts will be a personal experiement in staying wide awake. Some will be about my struggle to live life dispite fear, some about my personal goal to learn to love others. Some will be about my kids, recipies, frivelous things, book reviews, the weather.

thanks for reading this far.

and may you be wide awake and full of wonder also!