I love to listen to the laughter of my children mingled with light conversation between my husband and our parents. In our family, most gatherings are incomplete without a spontaneous outburst of song...tonight was no exception.
As I stood in the next room washing dishes from our feast of a dinner, the feeling of gratitude warmed my soul.
I am so thankful for these moments.
It is a joy to experience life together with these people. Tonight we shared dinner with our children and both sets of parents; nine of us sat together around our table in the living room. Together we held hands and thanked the Lord for His provision...my oldest daughter prayed as we all agreed with her.
It was lavish and simplistic all at the same time.
We popped popcorn and played dress-up and several rounds of Apples to Apples. We sipped coffee and shared conversations. We laughed. Tonight, we lived. We interacted with the people we have been given to love - and it was beautiful. I can think of no other place here on earth that I would rather be tonight than right where I am. I do not take these moments for granted.
I am thankful for each day I get to hold these sweet darlings in my arms; for each day they will still climb up on my lap and snuggle into my neck and want to be close. I am thankful for the love, support, example and relationship our parents share with us. I am thankful for my husband, my love...my friend.
I am thankful for the blessing of being able to provide for the needs of our family. I am thankful for a warm home to host such gatherings.
What made tonight so lovely was not the entertainment or good food - although we had plenty of both. What made tonight lovely was them; their presence. What a beautiful gift I have been given.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
180
Graphic. Powerful. Thought-provoking...and a little uncomfortable.
Worth 30 minutes of your day to consider what he has to say...
Worth 30 minutes of your day to consider what he has to say...
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Puffy Paint and Fanny Packs
As she casually spoke, her words jostled my gut. Whoa…back up. Am I hearing this correctly? With minimal prodding I realize something is awry. Her answers are evasive.
Why do we ignore the glaring truth in front of us and blaze forward into unholy places? Oh, we cover it up nicely. We justify it with spiritual words that sound intelligent and religious. But, my friends, much of our religion is empty – so desperately empty. I shudder and I am ill at the thought of our own hopeless depravity.
How can I focus on the task at hand? My penmanship fails me and I toss another poorly addressed envelope aside. My mind is racing and searching for some justification I can accept. Finally I turn to my husband. “Tell me I should not be upset.” He pauses.
“I can’t,” he finally replies. I groan.
And left to wrestle with these familiar emotions, I return to this single thought: that the shame of it all is the reproach we bring upon His Name. O all the ugliness and greed that charm our minds to consider what we should never give regard: it causes men and women to loathe the very One we verbally stand for, and our lives so dimly reflect.
I see this very thing in me: a struggle between what is right and what is palatable; a tug-of-war I consistently lose. Let’s just stop disguising it and call greed what it is. Let’s give our selfishness the title it has certainly earned for all the many ways it is able to succeed. But let’s not dress it up and be-dazzle it with justifications. It’s like adding puffy paint to a fanny pack. Justification is entirely unhelpful – our motives are still ugly.
Yet, He came to love us, sinners that we are. Lord, impart this grace into my heart; to love those who make my soul feel sick with grief and anger. Do I not fear your holy love for those I let my heart disdain? I must realize that these dark places would be far more familiar to me were it not for You, who save me from my own self. Perhaps some are, and I simply do not recognize where I am.
Learn to love, I must. The practice of forgiveness and grace is so unnatural - but entirely necessary.
The line between recognition and judgment is often erased in the name of love. When I see the church frequent shadowy corners it burdens my spirit in so many ways. I am convinced it breaks His heart to witness. I am not speaking condemnation when I state the obvious wrong, but I invite His displeasure when my heart breathes furious mutterings against those He deeply loves. Like a mother, aching as she listens to her children bicker and bite and cheerfully tattle on one another - such a draining and mournful experience. I imagine it is a taste of His emotion as He sees our proud looks and hears our arrogant thoughts. We are no better. We are terminal with the same disease - this sickness we are fascinated by, called sin.
O the great shame of it all is the sorry mockery we make of Him for the entire world to see. He is not bound by our own representation, however. He proves Himself by His own creation, by His Word and by His Spirit. I fix my eyes on Him and there too, I place my hope. While men and systems will disappoint and fail, He is able to work all things for our good and for His glory. I stand amazed.
My heart beat slows to a steadier pace...no longer so passionately fueled with emotion. And I pick my pen up once more and determine this moment to love. A moment away I will need to strengthen my resolve again, but for this moment grace wins in me.
Why do we ignore the glaring truth in front of us and blaze forward into unholy places? Oh, we cover it up nicely. We justify it with spiritual words that sound intelligent and religious. But, my friends, much of our religion is empty – so desperately empty. I shudder and I am ill at the thought of our own hopeless depravity.
How can I focus on the task at hand? My penmanship fails me and I toss another poorly addressed envelope aside. My mind is racing and searching for some justification I can accept. Finally I turn to my husband. “Tell me I should not be upset.” He pauses.
“I can’t,” he finally replies. I groan.
And left to wrestle with these familiar emotions, I return to this single thought: that the shame of it all is the reproach we bring upon His Name. O all the ugliness and greed that charm our minds to consider what we should never give regard: it causes men and women to loathe the very One we verbally stand for, and our lives so dimly reflect.
I see this very thing in me: a struggle between what is right and what is palatable; a tug-of-war I consistently lose. Let’s just stop disguising it and call greed what it is. Let’s give our selfishness the title it has certainly earned for all the many ways it is able to succeed. But let’s not dress it up and be-dazzle it with justifications. It’s like adding puffy paint to a fanny pack. Justification is entirely unhelpful – our motives are still ugly.
Yet, He came to love us, sinners that we are. Lord, impart this grace into my heart; to love those who make my soul feel sick with grief and anger. Do I not fear your holy love for those I let my heart disdain? I must realize that these dark places would be far more familiar to me were it not for You, who save me from my own self. Perhaps some are, and I simply do not recognize where I am.
Learn to love, I must. The practice of forgiveness and grace is so unnatural - but entirely necessary.
The line between recognition and judgment is often erased in the name of love. When I see the church frequent shadowy corners it burdens my spirit in so many ways. I am convinced it breaks His heart to witness. I am not speaking condemnation when I state the obvious wrong, but I invite His displeasure when my heart breathes furious mutterings against those He deeply loves. Like a mother, aching as she listens to her children bicker and bite and cheerfully tattle on one another - such a draining and mournful experience. I imagine it is a taste of His emotion as He sees our proud looks and hears our arrogant thoughts. We are no better. We are terminal with the same disease - this sickness we are fascinated by, called sin.
O the great shame of it all is the sorry mockery we make of Him for the entire world to see. He is not bound by our own representation, however. He proves Himself by His own creation, by His Word and by His Spirit. I fix my eyes on Him and there too, I place my hope. While men and systems will disappoint and fail, He is able to work all things for our good and for His glory. I stand amazed.
My heart beat slows to a steadier pace...no longer so passionately fueled with emotion. And I pick my pen up once more and determine this moment to love. A moment away I will need to strengthen my resolve again, but for this moment grace wins in me.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Whirlwind...
[I posted this over at my education blog...and think it is fitting here too, so I'm re-posting.]
Life is a blur as of late...
Spring has sprung and everyone is restless, longing to drink in the sunshine. My kids grow bigger; and along with their increase in size comes an increase in appetites, a wider disaster radius post-playtime and continued development of independent thinking - consequently: more frequent arguments both with each other and myself. My husband has been diligently studying, excelling in all his classes; I am so proud!
L., my youngest, has started walking and is quickly graduating from that mundane skill to more exciting techniques for mobility...such as climbing. [Really, who wants to walk when you could just climb stuff, right?]
A few days ago I caught her sitting in the middle of the living room talking to herself, "No. Nooo. No. No Ma. No Mom. No. Mom. No no. Noooo." She was practicing telling me no. My heart was filled with delight at her sweet voice, pride for her working so intently to enunciate her words correctly...and slight trepidation as I considered the implications of her resolve to clearly communicate her defiance.
My oldest daughter is learning important and difficult lessons about the ugliness of lies. Meanwhile, her father and I are being tested in matters of patience and grace. She is also rapidly learning to read and write. She enjoys writing letters and often I find random letters on her schoolwork or art pages. Occasionally, her random letters happen to form words, much to her older brother's astonishment and delight. He is very impressed by her "skill" and they celebrate her accomplishment together with cheering, laughter and expressions of recognition: "Great job!" "Wow...you wrote ________!" "You are such a great speller!" This warms my spirit. I love to see my children loving and encouraging one another.
I am considering what to do for my son's education in the fall. Boarding school has been an attractive thought from time to time. New, unpleasant and frustrating phrases have been surfacing during our conversations lately; "It's not FAIR!" "I wish I had a different mom!" "Why do I have to...?!" I really dislike the attitude I see him developing and find myself praying often for an extra measure of love and grace to respond to it. While this new "big kid" personality dampens my excitement about home-educating in the coming school year, it also deepens my resolve to guide him, to instruct him, teach and correct him so that issues of character, discipline and integrity may be swiftly addressed and corrected, deterring poor attitude from developing into bad habits and unpleasant personality in later years.
I am just taking it all in. At moments, reminding myself to pause to breathe or to resist the temptation to react. Other times, digging deep to find motivation to tackle the dishes and laundry, or to mom-up and confront the arguing coming from the kids' room [instead of hiding in the pantry with a bar of chocolate pretending not to hear it]. Occasionally, ignoring those tasks that seem so pressing and important, but will still be there tomorrow and just holding my baby a little longer while she sleeps, or sitting on the floor playing dolls, or pulling out a messy art project to do TOGETHER or attacking my children with kisses and tickles while they still enjoy it - I know it will not last forever.
This season is full of unique joys and difficulties...and so will be the next. This is a sweet sort of whirlwind to be caught up in.
Life is a blur as of late...
Spring has sprung and everyone is restless, longing to drink in the sunshine. My kids grow bigger; and along with their increase in size comes an increase in appetites, a wider disaster radius post-playtime and continued development of independent thinking - consequently: more frequent arguments both with each other and myself. My husband has been diligently studying, excelling in all his classes; I am so proud!
L., my youngest, has started walking and is quickly graduating from that mundane skill to more exciting techniques for mobility...such as climbing. [Really, who wants to walk when you could just climb stuff, right?]
A few days ago I caught her sitting in the middle of the living room talking to herself, "No. Nooo. No. No Ma. No Mom. No. Mom. No no. Noooo." She was practicing telling me no. My heart was filled with delight at her sweet voice, pride for her working so intently to enunciate her words correctly...and slight trepidation as I considered the implications of her resolve to clearly communicate her defiance.
My oldest daughter is learning important and difficult lessons about the ugliness of lies. Meanwhile, her father and I are being tested in matters of patience and grace. She is also rapidly learning to read and write. She enjoys writing letters and often I find random letters on her schoolwork or art pages. Occasionally, her random letters happen to form words, much to her older brother's astonishment and delight. He is very impressed by her "skill" and they celebrate her accomplishment together with cheering, laughter and expressions of recognition: "Great job!" "Wow...you wrote ________!" "You are such a great speller!" This warms my spirit. I love to see my children loving and encouraging one another.
I am considering what to do for my son's education in the fall. Boarding school has been an attractive thought from time to time. New, unpleasant and frustrating phrases have been surfacing during our conversations lately; "It's not FAIR!" "I wish I had a different mom!" "Why do I have to...?!" I really dislike the attitude I see him developing and find myself praying often for an extra measure of love and grace to respond to it. While this new "big kid" personality dampens my excitement about home-educating in the coming school year, it also deepens my resolve to guide him, to instruct him, teach and correct him so that issues of character, discipline and integrity may be swiftly addressed and corrected, deterring poor attitude from developing into bad habits and unpleasant personality in later years.
I am just taking it all in. At moments, reminding myself to pause to breathe or to resist the temptation to react. Other times, digging deep to find motivation to tackle the dishes and laundry, or to mom-up and confront the arguing coming from the kids' room [instead of hiding in the pantry with a bar of chocolate pretending not to hear it]. Occasionally, ignoring those tasks that seem so pressing and important, but will still be there tomorrow and just holding my baby a little longer while she sleeps, or sitting on the floor playing dolls, or pulling out a messy art project to do TOGETHER or attacking my children with kisses and tickles while they still enjoy it - I know it will not last forever.
This season is full of unique joys and difficulties...and so will be the next. This is a sweet sort of whirlwind to be caught up in.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Big Brother / Little Sister
The kids are sitting next to each other on the couch, watching a movie...
Big Brother: "Hahaha...that's funny!" [to his sister] "That's funny, isn't it?!"
Little Sister: "Haha! Yeah...that's so funny!"
About 30 seconds pass by...
Little Sister, "Um...why is it funny?"
Big Brother: "Hahaha...that's funny!" [to his sister] "That's funny, isn't it?!"
Little Sister: "Haha! Yeah...that's so funny!"
About 30 seconds pass by...
Little Sister, "Um...why is it funny?"
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
An Ode to Your Face
Here's to you, babe!
I call it: An Ode to Your Face
*Ahem*
I'd never want to bash
Your wearing of that stache
That is set upon your lips
...and tickles when we kiss
You know I'd love you anyway
But hope that handsome stache will stay
'Cause all the cool kids want mustaches
All the girls bat their eyelashes
Of all the ways men wear face hair
Your stache is best
The end.
[I swear.]
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Elephants and Dark Clouds
I may be a bad blogger.
Maybe that's okay.
"They" say a good blogger must blog consistently and often [as in...every day]. Even if it means just posting a quick little thought...a picture...just something. That's not really my style though. There are several contributing factors.
I guess I kinda stand by the philosophy that unless you have something worthwhile to talk about, it's better to not. [Not talk, that is, or in this instance, not write.] I don't like to talk just for the sake of talking, ya know? Well...there's that...and also my counter piled high with a seemingly endless mountain of dishes, my overflowing laundry baskets and constantly supervising my adorable, yet often naughty children; all of which keeps me well occupied for most of the day [and a good portion of the night too].
Actually I have sat down to write several times and ended up deleting what little I had managed to type. I've realized that while my words were honest...I could not yet be as honest as I'd like to be. And while the topic on my heart is significant...God is still teaching me, mending what has been torn and cutting away what is useless.
I'm not a fan of "nice weather" conversations. You know...those awkward surface comments people make when it is obvious that much bigger issues are lingering in the room like dark, heavy clouds. At the same time, I'm far too analytical to simply blurt out my thoughts.
I tend to think, rethink and over-think a conversation, considering as many possible outcomes as I can imagine before it ever begins. Then during and especially after, I often go over each word and concept in my mind, analyzing the tone, the context, facial expressions and body language. It would be a far more logical ritual if I had studied any related sciences...but I haven't. It's all guesswork, really. It is a horribly obnoxious tendency, but also generally useful in many situations...say, this one, for example. It helps me keep my mouth shut more often than I imagine I would otherwise.
All this to say: my heart is heavy. I want to write about it...and I'm pretty sure I will sometime...but not until I am able to sort through it all in my own mind just a bit more, to somehow make sense of the jumbled heap of experiences, emotions and endless questions that infiltrate my thoughts on the matter.
Right now my pondering on the issues is just looming gray clouds threatening to burst. I need something a little more solid...like rain...or better even: hail. Something one can grab onto, something that I can observe. I'd like to see an outcome, an end...to define a point or purpose. For now, I live observing this thick storm cloud, standing beneath it...and wondering what it will inevitably produce.
So...
Please excuse me if I don't bother to write much about the sunshine and warmer temperatures while I wrestle with my thoughts awhile. I am wary of dancing around elephants. But now that I've acknowledged its presence, I think I can carry on as usual, or close to.
Maybe that's okay.
"They" say a good blogger must blog consistently and often [as in...every day]. Even if it means just posting a quick little thought...a picture...just something. That's not really my style though. There are several contributing factors.
I guess I kinda stand by the philosophy that unless you have something worthwhile to talk about, it's better to not. [Not talk, that is, or in this instance, not write.] I don't like to talk just for the sake of talking, ya know? Well...there's that...and also my counter piled high with a seemingly endless mountain of dishes, my overflowing laundry baskets and constantly supervising my adorable, yet often naughty children; all of which keeps me well occupied for most of the day [and a good portion of the night too].
Actually I have sat down to write several times and ended up deleting what little I had managed to type. I've realized that while my words were honest...I could not yet be as honest as I'd like to be. And while the topic on my heart is significant...God is still teaching me, mending what has been torn and cutting away what is useless.
I'm not a fan of "nice weather" conversations. You know...those awkward surface comments people make when it is obvious that much bigger issues are lingering in the room like dark, heavy clouds. At the same time, I'm far too analytical to simply blurt out my thoughts.
I tend to think, rethink and over-think a conversation, considering as many possible outcomes as I can imagine before it ever begins. Then during and especially after, I often go over each word and concept in my mind, analyzing the tone, the context, facial expressions and body language. It would be a far more logical ritual if I had studied any related sciences...but I haven't. It's all guesswork, really. It is a horribly obnoxious tendency, but also generally useful in many situations...say, this one, for example. It helps me keep my mouth shut more often than I imagine I would otherwise.
All this to say: my heart is heavy. I want to write about it...and I'm pretty sure I will sometime...but not until I am able to sort through it all in my own mind just a bit more, to somehow make sense of the jumbled heap of experiences, emotions and endless questions that infiltrate my thoughts on the matter.
Right now my pondering on the issues is just looming gray clouds threatening to burst. I need something a little more solid...like rain...or better even: hail. Something one can grab onto, something that I can observe. I'd like to see an outcome, an end...to define a point or purpose. For now, I live observing this thick storm cloud, standing beneath it...and wondering what it will inevitably produce.
So...
Please excuse me if I don't bother to write much about the sunshine and warmer temperatures while I wrestle with my thoughts awhile. I am wary of dancing around elephants. But now that I've acknowledged its presence, I think I can carry on as usual, or close to.
And with that thought…
Today we played with kittens.
My kids were giddy with delight.
[Except for L., my baby...she wasn't overly impressed with the clawing, crying creatures, and she certainly had no intention of touching one. I can't really blame her though; they did seem a little ferocious.]
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