Warmth

Since December the kids and I have been passing around sickness like a mad game of hot potato. At least once a week, I am pressing my lips against someone's forehead to determine whether or not to give out yet another dose of medication. With my check to their hairlines, I can roughly estimate how high the fever is. I admit, however, to feeling a little sheepish when I call the doctor's office with questions about the symptoms and I can't back up my statement of "He's had a fever for two days," with any sort of concrete numbers.  

This winter my favorite hangout has been the sauna at the YMCA. (I will not admit to your face that I was the girl who fell asleep in the sauna in early January while recovering from a nasty head cold.) I sit in there, heat cranking, eyes closed, dreaming of the Arizona desert. The heat is my therapy, my release, and as I sit, sweating and dreaming, I imagine the toxins beading up on my skin and leaving my body. Last weekend, I was drawn to a natural vitamin store as my ears were plugged and felt like too much dairy was the culprit. The very nice and informative saleswoman claimed that I have damp air inside me. She went on for 30 minutes on how my internal doshi is not fiery enough and my small frame, fair skin, quiet demeanor needs to be ignited. She sold me some crazy ancient remedy that is supposed to warm me up and dry me out. The incident still makes me laugh but the most amazing thing is, is that I think it is working. 

February has been growing on me in recent years. The slow pace, the winter lethargy feels fittingly reflective of many of the wild animals outside our door in their own state of slower winter activity. The squirrels don't seem so irritating to me as they aren't in their usual ramped up franticness. As I look ahead to the busy days of spring to come, I know that our time will soon be full of hard work and extended energy from dawn to dusk. This period of rest that is my February is essential preparation for what is to come next.

I've been busy in a slow sort of way. Looking around me, I see evidence of planning for what is ahead. Projects in the making, works in progress, at every corner. 

sewing: I am finally getting to Clare's wall hanging. I love it and I cherish the thought that I will be able to  to pass it to a granddaughter someday.

I got this crazy urge to take up crocheting and making a treasured wool blanket for the bed of our Ethiopian child. The blanket will roughly take me a year so I am happy to have a project to help pass the time. My thoughts will be devoted to our child during the handiwork and will give so many hours devoted to prayer for our child. 

planning: Plans for the garden have been mentally thought out. I am looking forward to seeing last years ideas come into bloom this year. I love how every year I need to be conscious of how this year's work leads to next year. It is all about building, growing, and accumulating. 

fixing: We've had our share of water issues this past year but I am happy to say I think everything has been resolved today, including a blue problem. In fear of our skin turning blue and frequent trips to the bathroom because of a copper increase, we had the issue resolved quickly. 

Certain things make me warm. A good cup of coffee or tea, good friends who love me as I am, the oven baking something, the sound of my kids playing, family walks, the sweet relief of having worked out, card games, my husband's hand on my back, family movie night, the moments when everything seems to make sense. These things get me through the cold times, warmth spreads through my body, bringing me back to life.

So while I've needed to take many days off this winter, while sickness works it's way through the lot of us. We have had more sweet times, listening to each other, commiserating with each other, smelling of vicks and laughing about who is sicker. Really, it's not so awful - calendars can be cleared, to-do lists can be put aside. Sometimes a little family slow-down is in perfect order. 

What I want for my kids

I can't even begin to tell you how many prayers I've shot up to God begging Him for guidance in parenthood! Often my prayer goes something like this... "Please Lord, don't let me mess my kids up! Cover me in your grace... AND cover my children's ears and heart from anything I say or do that doesn't reflect you well!" If you're a mom, I'm sure you'd agree, we just desperately want the best for our children and hope that we don't get in the way of just that!

This week has been crazy. Everyone has been going a different direction and we have a lot going on. In all the commotion I came to realize that my kids are growing up! Yes, I know... this shouldn't have come as a surprise to me! All kids do it, I've had years to prep myself for it, yet is comes at a surprise of how quickly it all happens. I was bombarded with the reality that time is so precious and that investing in that time is everything! This sentimental mom moment carried my thoughts to a topic that has been re-occuring in the last few months...

What is our deepest desire for our children? And how are Troy and I, as the parents, cultivating in them this desire?

And this, I recently read...
"My daily prayer is that God would use (your) victories, wounds, and transgressions forged along the way to encourage others to risk losing everything to know the life God dreams for them, for you... Your journey will be where God's pleasure and your purpose meet, not mine. Your destination is the same as mine- an intimate encounter between you and your Creator- but your route will be filled with adventures, both mild and wild, made just for you. No less challenging. No less exhilarating. Uniquely yours. As when Abraham placed Isaac on the altar, when we're ready to risk what we hold most sacred, we step into that adventurous life, the only one that matters. There we find our purpose and feel His pleasure- His delight in us." Passport Through Darkness by Kimberly L. Smith

I have found only recently the courage to step out and feel God's purpose in my life. It is difficult to do so when life is moving so quickly. When fear creeps in and doubt weighs heavy on my heart, thinking about all four of my kids eyes watching, soaking in every decision we make, brings me to my knees in prayer. I find myself begging for the courage and wisdom to live "this life on the edge- where so much is uncertain, maybe even scary, certainly out of our control; but also where true freedom lives" ....so that, they will do the same with their life!

And I continue to pray and probably always will, "Lord, please don't let me mess up my kids!"

I dreamed a dream...

Today is the day for remembering dreams.

People’s dreams change the world.

Their dreams become the realities that make us see things differently.

Their dreams become the songs that inspire us, the buildings that impress us, the books that transform us.

Their dreams are the fuel I have lived on for most of my adult life.

But then you and I must ask ourselves, “What are our dreams?”

Dare we speak them or harder still, share them? What about the fear that paralyzes us, that threatens to choke off our dreams before they’re given a proper chance?

I wrote my dreams down once.

But I kept that paper clutched tight to my heart.

Because what if? What if I’m not good enough? What if there’s not enough time or money or talent?

What if life gets in the way? What if my dreams never come true?

Some have come true and some are buried beneath a heavy yoke of excuses.

Here’s what you need to know, my friend.

We need you to dream your dreams.

But more than that, we need you to do the hard work that it takes to make those dreams come true.

What if you finally had the courage to speak your heart to the world.

What is the dream you dream?

What is the gift that you have to bring to us from your years of struggle.

We need you.

Your gifts, your dreams —–could change everything.

New Year, New Me

I am sitting here trying to figure out what to make of 2012 as though there is a phrase, a feeling, or a thought that could sum it up. It was neither up nor down, nor anywhere in between. Neither hard nor easy. Almost from the beginning, it did seem to require that I live very much in the present, and to live very intentionally. I am reminded of the quote that goes something like planning is essential, plans are useless. And now with the luxury of looking back I can set some order to what it was. Perhaps it's this planning in reverse, as though the year were all intentional, that puts me at ease at the beginning of each new year.

I've said it before, I love January. I love the newness, the fresh start, like a blank canvas destined to be created into something great. On the first day of this new year, I escaped the stuffiness of the Y treadmill and took my run outside in the fresh air. I organized my thoughts, I counted the months till a possible referral, and I decided on how great I was going to be this year. January is almost always a season of doing hard work, laying down roots, forging new habits which makes the flowering seasons of spring even more sweet.

I am feeling very optimistic about a referral by next December. As I put every Christmas decoration away, I think about how close we will be when I pull them out again next year. 12 months, it really isn't too long. I am determined to make the most out of these months in supporting my friends who will bring home their children this year, and preparing my own family for an addition. I've got Ethiopian food on the menu this week!

After Thanksgiving, Cole and I decided to go off gluten to see if it helped his concentration. (I participated for moral support.) By removing gluten from my diet, I unexpectantly cured myself of fibromyalgia pain that I have battled for nine years! No medication, no pain. I am sleeping good and I feel like a new person. How unbelievable is that? I still can't believe it as this has truly rocked my world. Eating isn't much fun now and I think I might have some record for the amount of corn chips consumed by one person, but I am still learning. We are still waiting to see if Cole is benefitting by eating no wheat, but I am turning into a walking advertisement on how food can make you sick.

Maybe all 2012 was, in reality, was the makings of 2013. The behind the scenes of new paths, new lives and new stories still penciled in rough draft. I sit here, looking out at a gray, damp day and I think of the seeds underground. The plants out there freezing and lying dormant absorbing that necessary chill only to awaken anew when the time comes. I remember that they will do that without any help or plans from me, they will do it because they are created for it.

May 2013 bring you all of your heart's desires, even in the smallest doses. I hope that you will be given all that you need to feel comfort in what it is you are created for. Thank you for being here with me and allowing me to have a comfortable space to invest my thoughts. I look forward to sharing this year with you.

At Our House

We are baking.

We are playing.


We are remembering.


We are snacking.


We are decorating.


We are anticipating.


We are resting.


We are wishing you a joyous Nativity & that all you love & cherish will be near to you.

Thanksgiving

Troy makes good things happen. It's one of his many qualities for which I'm grateful. I'd like to think that my talents complement his, that we're a good balance for one another, helping each become better through the conduits of being in tandem.

The beauty and mystery of a family is all the talents coming together to create a unique concoction, sometimes creating harmony and other times a dissonance that has me tilting my head in discomfort until it ceases, as it inevitably does.

Cole, with his ever sunshiny disposition, his dramatic body language, complete with the snappy jazz hands and open mouth. He likes to please others and make people laugh, and talents of a visual nature come easily to him. He has no time to waste on clouds of gloom and his sensitivity to others is elevated beyond the normal 9-year-old. His show of gratitude comes from someplace deeper than lessons from parents. We, in turn, are grateful for him.

Clark's personality is unfolding. He is blessed to have a flock of adoring fans built into his daily life. Parents and brother's alike who rush to soothe his cries, to play with him and show him the world. He is demanding, but I have a feeling he will give more than he'll ever take.

Jack, the oldest, is the voice of the tribe. While he has the pressure to do everything first, "right". He makes everything look easy. He has the ability to turn every situation positive and has years beyond his 13 year old body. He brings maturity and honesty to every situation. He leads the crew and what he wants is usually agreed upon.

Clare doesn't miss a thing. She knows when we've passed our street, she knows who is where, and she knows where things are (although it's often because she has hidden them). She knows. Her knowledge will soon be wisdom and she uses those pieces to identify outcomes and possibilities. And boy, is she fun. 

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed at the task of mothering these souls. And we get to watch and attempt to help, perhaps more like flounder, as we teach what we know, share what we've experienced and hope and pray that they will want to learn and use our mistakes and missteps to their advantage to start life a few rungs higher.

So, as we prepare to celebrate our day of giving thanks, I feel gratitude for the personalities that I call my family. They add flavor, they add zest, and above all, they help me to strive to be better, and soon they will surpass everything I'm able to teach them.

Which is exactly how I would have it.

Happy Thanksgiving.

I Walk the Line

When we were making the decision to move from the Catholic church to Covenant, it was a struggle for us. Mind you, the Catholic church was not the ideal place for us. We were uneducated ritual followers who liked the conformity of tradition. It did serve as a platform to "wanting" to be have faith and trust in God, but it lacked so much that we were seeking and equipped us with nothing except a nice group of catholic women that taught me about catholic traditions, rules and guilt.

The biggest hang-up for me (and sometimes still is) of joining a Protestant church is not having to pray through a priest and determining how I am comfortable worshiping. Three years ago when we tried our new church we felt odd. We felt like it wasn't reverant enough, too casual. Where were the robes, organ and holy water? Where were we supposed to kneel?? We should have rules here people, and there certainly shouldn't be any hand clapping or hand raising.

But you see, in our Catholic church we felt distanced from God and it felt like a "safe" place to be. After all, the priest did all the work. He handled the praying, forgiving my sins and gave out the bread of salvation every week so I could start out new. There really wasn't much expected out of me besides maintaining the guilt and serving Saint Vincent de Paul.

Now, three years after joining Covenant church, I find myself in a much different place. I am called to be the seeker, an active participant, holding myself accountable, being missional and knowing who God really is. We are responding to our faith through an adoption, we pray regularly, we are learning the Bible. Our eyes are opened to what has been done for us and how deeply we are loved. We've changed. Our actions are more deliberate, our smiles more genuine, our time better spent.

That said, there are some days I want to go back to taking a back seat. It was easier. Some Sundays I look around and think to myself all these people have noodles for brains and want to go back to the kneeling bench, rosary beads in hand, repeating Hail Marys. Furthermore, I admit, sometimes I want to hide, call the whole thing off. It was easier being the follower. I could claim to something I wasn't because it was more mainstream, and acceptable. I admit that somedays I don't have any idea what I am doing and clinging to "Jesus" feels off the wall and crazy. I would willfully be what "the other guy is" because it I am fine with being in the middle of the road. Sometimes, I feel doubt and feel like I am too far behind my Christian friends who can recite scripture and seem to have it all figured out. Faith just doesn't seem like a convincing way of explaining the world. God doesn't seem to be near or answer my worries and sometimes I lose hope.

Does this mean I have doubt to where I am, or am I just tired? Do I want acceptance more than I want God? Are the questions I ask normal or have I just earned myself a ticket on the next train to Hells-ville.

Here is what I think...I think the doubt is good. 

Somedays I think of my faith as a castle—safe, comfortable, familiar. But what if God doesn’t want me to be comfortable and safe? What if comfortable and safe keeps God at a distance?
Doubt tears down the castle walls to force us on a journey. It may feel like God is far away or absent when in fact doubt is a gift of God to move us and grow us.

But it is scary and painful because I feel like I am moving away from Him. But actually I am only leaving behind the idea of God I like to surround myself with—the small God, the God I control, the God who agrees with me.

God is teaching me to trust him, not myself. He means to have all of me, not just the surface, going to church, volunteering part. Not just the part people see, but the part no one sees.
Not even me.

I’ve heard this many times: “Let go and let God.” It’s true—but “letting go” might be more than I bargained for. I must be taught, for I absolutely will not willingly go there myself. When we are not letting go, when we try to stay in control of something, that’s when God turns off the light and makes it dark—not because he is against us, but because he is for us. When we are out of control, that is when God can speak to us—without all of the layers of stuff we have piled up inside of us. God puts us out of our control so that we can learn to trust—not “believe” or “have faith” but something deeper and harder:

Trust.

You can only trust when you have let go completely, when you don’t try to control. When we learn to trust God out of our emptiness, we become liberated from our attachments, from our fears, and we learn to live with freedom and joy. That is the Christian journey.

So, friends I will continue my internal saga and I will come out alright. I will arrive a little disheveled and messy, but I will get there in the end.