one wild and precious life

Oh Josie . . . links and work from home

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 26 May 2012 13:27:00 +0000

Oh Josie . ..

(I think I say this 10,000 times a day)

On this day I gave her both sensory boxes- one with beans and one cornmeal- as I was trying to prepare supper, because she would not let me put her down . . .

knowing full well that she would likely dump them all over the floor . . .

which she promptly did, and spent an entire ten minutes dancing in . ..

and sometimes, you know, those strategic ten minutes are worth the hour you will spend washing cornmeal out of the cracks in the floor later.

I so love this girl.

Favorite Links This week . ..

Our friend Tim is blogging again. I have been hoping he would come back to blogging! He is a pastor in Madison, Wisconsin, a reader and thinker and a great heart. You will want to follow his blog.

I really liked this post I found from Tim's Blog, Faithful is the New Radical.

I love everything that Emily at Chatting at the Sky writes, but this one was one of my favorites, one thing that will make your soul explode:

Our souls were not made for fame.

Ruth's poem, Oceans, is perfect; about our relationship with technology and our longing for mystery.

Work From Home

Getting back into painting recently is hopefully more than just a hobby. I was looking for a part-time job, evenings and weekends, likely waitressing. I didn't hate the idea of waitressing again, I rather like it really, but I was grieving the thought of losing our weekends as a family, and I knew that even just a few evenings of waitressing every week would likely kill any spare creative energy. I was deep-down relieved when none of the places I applied bothered to call me back.

Then, I got a timely package and some great advice from a super-wise friend, encouraging me to stick it out, to try to keep writing, and a few other random bits of advice that felt like what my heart was saying, too, and as we continued to discuss things it seemed like we could make it work, that it is worth it for me to try to work from home. So. We'll see.

Working from home is so much easier now. The kids are sleeping well and we are in a good rhythm. I try to write early in the morning (Josie wakes at 6 a.m. sharp every day, so, no, I do not manage to wake a lot earlier than her every day, though I do try!) Nap/quiet time is one hour or so for painting, and if I have any energy at the end of the day I use it to write my novel.

Nothing great is being accomplished, but I am satisfied for now with these bits of time and hoping that they can over time add up to a body of work. (My word of the year is Seed. Do the small thing.)

Do What You Love at Simple Mom this week was especially encouraging:

But here’s what I’ve come to find in the few years since I’ve rediscovered my love of writing: Practicing this craft, and letting my love for it pour out on the paper and the screen, multiplies my love for my kids and my spouse. Much like having another baby enlarges your heart, exercising the gift and the passion I’ve been given makes me a better lover, not worse.

I love these Ten Tips to Steal Like an Artist

Especially number 9, be boring (it's the only way to get work done.) I definitely feel like I am becoming more and more boring! And happy.

where there is no art

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 23 May 2012 18:23:00 +0000

For Mother's Day Jim gave me a new moleskin, blank pages, and my favorite pens. Have you noticed that he gives perfect gifts? Lately I am flooded with ideas. Soaring in them, like Annie's little flying girls. Paint all over our kitchen table. There are not enough hours in the day.

I am trying to keep the writing plate spinning, too. And the mothering one, yes. Laundry. Meals are nice. We have decided next year to add the homeschool plate.

For now, rather than feeling overwhelmed, I am energized. Happy.

Finally I am at a place where mothering and creating can- in some small, clumsy, messy ways- overlap.

But it isn't just circumstance. Something has been dislodged, opened up.

For years there was no art in me. I was bare, empty, quaking. When we got married for a year my job was to paint, and this would have been a dream except that I had no color and I had no courage.

Creativity leans so heavily on courage . . . and not only for art making. Creative-courage is necessary for any well-lived life: to be open to change, flux, risk, vision, experiment, generosity. To be open to being wrong is a part of creativity.

So, too, is a healthy spirituality.

I have been thinking of how naturally creativity reflects the spiritual journey.

I spent many years trying to exist in a firmly left-brained spirituality . .. (It was not a particular church so much as the way that many church-es tend to lean so heavily on the logic side of faith: capital T Truth).

And while I was trying desperately to adapt, I was also becoming increasingly tired. Anxious. Insecure. . . All enemies of creativity.

A few weeks ago I read a note from a friend apologizing for missing something, forgetting something, leaving a wrong impression at church the night before . .. and my heart just breaks for her because I so remember those waves of anxiety: I would drive home from church rehearsing- did I say something wrong? Did I leave a wrong impression? Was I out of line? What did this mean?

Beware of places where there is no art. Whether it be churches, relationships, environments: there needs to be space for art. . . . and I use the term art in the loosest possible way . .. personality. quirks. experiment. mistakes. poetry. uncertainty. nuance. imperfection. prophecy. risk.

Beware of religion that leaves you more fearful than free. It's not that the religion itself is bad, but that something is missing.

Just as a faith that gravitates toward the emotional/artistic//human side of faith may lack a structure or doctrinal foundation, so a faith that excludes these things may resemble all bones with no flesh.

Since moving to Cleveland we have landed in a church that blends both aspects of faith- Spirit and Truth. There is room here for both the rational and the creative, and so too for discussion, questions, flow of life. It is wonderfully liberating, both in my faith, and in my living.

I've had this post sitting in my drafts for weeks now, but unsure how to finish it or whether it really needed saying . . . but today I read something that drew a parallel on the reverse:

I have noticed lately a lot of discussion among women bloggers over pinterest, and I kept wondering what all the fuss is about? Facebook I have at times found to feel unhealthy. But Pinterest? Pinterest is my oasis during the day, where I go for inspiration and energy.

Today Gypsy Mama wrote on facebook, "I think there are 2 types of pinterest people: those it inspires and those it tires. I am of the latter variety."

. . . and I thought, Ah-ha! That's it! That is the way I used to feel in church, tired.

Thankfully church is not Pinterest, so that logical, non-creatives must shut down or force themselves to get excited about chalkboard paint. But it doesn't have to be so logical that creative people find the air sucked out of them, either.

The church is Yes, And. The church is Beauty and Truth. Righteousness and Peace. The church is Jesus, who is Freedom and Life. Abundant Life.

(Marc Chagall)

Love and faithfulness meet together;
righteousness and peace kiss each other.

¹¹

Faithfulness springs forth from the earth,

and righteousness looks down from heaven.

Psalm 85:10,11

how to hope and what to hope for

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 23 May 2012 02:16:00 +0000

"The big question is how to hope and what to hope for."

I have been thinking about this quote by May Sarton (from her book, Journal of a Solitude). It is the big question, isn't it? We naturally hope for healthy children, a happy marriage, fulfilling career, honest friendships, enough money to not have to worry . . . And when it all falls apart, we think that it must be a terrible mistake, a problem to be fixed or difficulty from which to flee?

I read this quote (found at study in brown), and it kept knocking against the May Sarton quote in my brain all week:

We are at Jesus’ disposal. If he wants you to be sick in bed, if he wants you to proclaim His work in the street, if he wants you to clean the toilets all day, that’s alright, everything is alright. We must say, “I belong to you. You can do whatever you like.” And this … is our strength, and this is the joy of the Lord.

~ Mother Theresa

Maybe the way to truly live your one wild and precious life will look completely different than what we think we hope for. Maybe I am only beginning to learn how to hope.

Community Art Project: Beauty out of Brokenness

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 21 May 2012 18:01:00 +0000

I have been wanting to share a collaborative art piece that we did together at the women's retreat a few weeks ago.

(Here it is not quite completed).

Our theme was on finding God in the broken or fragmented places in our lives.

My friend Maria came up with this idea for a group art project. We were asked to bring fabric scraps with us to the weekend, perhaps some that are meaningful or significant. On the first night we each held a fabric piece and shared the story of the fabric, or what it symbolized for us.

This stained glass pattern was painted onto the canvas beforehand, and each shape had been traced onto a pattern. Throughout the weekend we cut-out shapes and worked together piecing the fabric onto the canvas.

I think we were all surprised by just how well the mosaic turned out, and of how meaningful it was for us as a group.

The mosaic symbolizes the way that we are all different, all broken; we come broken to God and He transforms, brings beauty out of ashes, makes all things new.

Also meaningful is the way that this piece holds so many stories, places that we are holding up to God and asking for His light and healing to shine through.

It meant a lot to work on this together as a group. Throughout the weekend as we casually cut and glued, discussed the fabrics and where to place the colors, there was a sweet spirit of fellowship and holy creativity.

The art now hangs in our church, a symbol of stories and hope, beauty out of brokenness, the beauty of the body of Christ.

I love these ladies!

education (revisited)

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 19 May 2012 18:00:00 +0000

A year ago I wrote a post struggling through our decision to homeschool our then soon-to-be kindergartener, or to send her to public school. I received some great comments, from people I respect, on both sides of the issue. We ended up going with public school for kindergarten.

And it has been great.

Honestly, I have had no complaints, and neither has Sam. She has come home happy every single day. Every day I ask her what was the best and worst thing about her day, and she has not ever had a worst thing. I really like her teacher and have been happy with her learning, her friends, etc.

But we have decided to begin homeschool next year!

I am excited, very at peace with the decision, and I am happy that our choice is not a reaction to anything but rather choosing the better (for us) of two good things.

I am thankful for a good friend who is also homeschooling her daughter next year. This week we swapped kids for a day, so we could each have a day to plan and do some research.

As I was researching I was able to see again just why I believe this is the right decision for us:

-Over the past four years I have read and bookmarked dozens and dozens of blogs and pages related to homeschool. The fact that I have always been drawn to these blogs, that I find such pleasure in thinking about homeschooling my kids, is one good indication that I am doing this from my heart and not out of some sense of guilt or duty.

-I believe we can give our kids a joyful and passionate education.

-I want to live without regret. All of the fears that I wrote about last year have not gone away, but I want to choose to live from my heart and my gut rather than from fear.

-Rush. We intentionally kept Sami out of a lot of activities this year, but still our afternoons felt rushed. I did not like that her teacher spent more waking hours with her than I did. I want to keep our lives calm, with time for lessons and sports that do not fill up all of our family time.

-Let them be kids. We do want to protect our kids from the influences of the culture, from growing up too fast, and to give them plenty of uninterrupted time for play and imagination.

-Flexibility. Amen.

Of course there are plenty of reasons why it would be easy to at least delay homeschooling for another year. I want to write, I want to make art, and I don't feel like I need to give either of those up. Rather, I am believing that schooling my kids will in ways feed my art, and vice versa. Maybe it will not be in the amounts of time that I would like, but I believe there is room for both. And, to remember that this is a season of life; I want to live it to it's full.

I have posted and will continue to update a Homeschool page with some of our favorite links and resources on the sidebar. Find it here. And my homeschool board on pinterest is here.

love one another: art + links

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 17 May 2012 12:02:00 +0000

Another very simple painting that we did together recently.

I printed out "love one another" in a large font

(I don't remember what size?),

cut-out the letters

(imperfectly- we aren't going for perfection here),

and taped them to the canvas.

I have also done this with contact paper, which sticks better but is difficult to pull the backing off.

We painted the entire canvas in whatever shades of blue we liked,

not worrying too much if we smudged under the letters.

After the paint was dry we pulled the letters off, revealing the white underneath.

Someday this will be part of a collage in the girls' bedroom,

for now it hangs out on our craft shelf.

+ two great posts:

Whispering Along a Thin Trembling Thread by Tony Woodlief

What if the reason there are television screens in every godforsaken corner of the U.S., and rampant alcoholism in Russia, and endless electronic distraction in Japan, is because the average man and woman need something, anything, to tamp the intensity of bearing a soul in this soul-crushing age?What if we writers are able to tell stories of hurt and joy only because something in us is dulled enough to look them full in the face?

Enough: or why we should all be laughing hysterically in the magazine aisle by Rachel Held Evans

But the way I see it, TIME gave us a something of a gift. By stripping that cover of all pretense, it revealed in plain language the lie behind so much of the media’s messages for women: If you aren’t a sexy, put-together, powerful, super-mom, who breastfeeds her kids until they’re four while baking apple pies, making crayon art, and investing in a successful career, then you’re a failure. You will always fall short. You will never be enough. Such an idea is so absurd, it should elicit laughter, not groans. It’s like millionized lashes and fortified fruit science—too stupid to take seriously!
And yet a small part of us believes it.
Why?This whole idea of the “ideal woman” is one reason I decided to take on my year of biblical womanhood project. I hated how well-intentioned pastors and leaders were taking the Bible I loved so much and turning into yet another magazine cover that asks: “Are you biblical enough?”

the creative process, and places I thought I'd never go

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Fri, 11 May 2012 17:47:00 +0000

Annie must have snapped these pics of Sami attempting to compose her very first email. I love this series because I think it describes my writing process precisely! HA!

While Sami is writing and reading these days, Annie is drawing-- always pictures of girls soaring through the air, pigtails flying behind them.

And then there are the things I swore I'd never do . . .

We went to a pet store this week. On purpose. (Forgive me pet people, but I have to control my gag reflex just walking into a pet store!) Because we needed to buy bedding for our new baby bunny . . .

Her name is Fluffy. Because we are wildly original.

She is all thanks to my dad who is already my kids' Best Buddy, and now officially their hero for convincing their mother that they can have a pet. (Ok, I'll admit, it is pretty darn cute). (How to housetrain a rabbit -- another thing I never thought I would google).

Now I am off to pack the car; we are taking Fluffy and heading to the country for the weekend, stopping on our way to pick up my lovely mom at the airport who was visiting my brother Joe in L.A. this week.

This pictures makes me smile- two of my very favorite people.

Happy Mother's Day to my fun, creative, joyful Mom. I am so glad you are my mom!

And Happy Mother's Day to the wonderful mothers I know. I hope that you will find great joy in the gift of motherhood, and will take time this weekend to celebrate this messy, humble, glorious work!

being together

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 10 May 2012 11:39:00 +0000

I wish I had pictures of our women's retreat this weekend . . . they would be glowing green and fly-away blue. I was even greeted by a red sly fox as I sat beneath the trees, sketching life.

But a picture would not be accurate because you would need to feel the sun and hear the breeze . . . and in the background the music of voices.

But not just voices . ..
stories
singing
laughter
creating
connection

When women come together something magical happens. They transform a place.

I need these voices, this gathering together, these conversations.

I need the community of women- every age and personality and persuasion- because they all teach me, they all are beautiful.

This is the church-

-and it happens only in the friction and rub, the grappling for words, the subtleties of expression, the anointing of prayer.

I found my spirit nourished not only from the time away, the time beneath the trees, the glory of nature . .. but most from this connection with other women; honesty, being together, being heard. It is holy ground.

There is a sacredness of sharing together.

"Our stories are sacred! They are oral stories of God.
Being able to speak words releases something.
Humans find God's presence primarily through relationships."-Mattie Marie Mast

This is the beauty of the church.

Anne + Cleveland

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 18:33:00 +0000

This week I saw Anne Lamott! She was the fifth author of six for the Writers Center Stage series which Jim gave me for my birthday, one of my favorite gifts ever. Check-out their lineup for next year.

Of all of the authors, I was most looking forward to hearing Anne Lamott. Like so many, Anne's books on faith were significant in shaping my faith. She helped me understand grace- Jesus- out of the chapters and verses and into the messiness and warmth and grit of humanity. And she has the most wonderful and self-deprecating sense of humor which seems to be an element tragically missing in the Church- and everywhere.

She spoke mostly on writing, and a little on faith. Here are a couple of my favorites from my notes:

On Writing:

[Creativity] needs structure and discipline. "I don't ever feel like writing." The only way to begin anything is to start where you are. It doesn't happen "when . .. (I have more time, the kids are older, I retire . ..etc.) There is only today. Don't be a person of regret.

No one cares if you write. You have to feel that it is a sacred task. YOU have to care that it gets done. Everybody needs you to help them. It is better for everybody if you don't write (or-____); if you don't find your creative side.

Let yourself do it badly. It's ok. You can write your terrible paragraph. Just get it down.

Write what you would love to come upon.

On Faith:

Grace is the moments of self-forgetfulness.
Grace is something bigger and trip-ier than I-Self-Me. (Get out of ME)!
Grace is WD40 when you're stuck.
Grace is fresh air, buoyancy, the crack in the wall through which light shines.

Anne Lamott talks just the way she writes; funny, honest, endearing. I wish she were a blogger. Or my next door neighbor.

----------
Also this week I finally got to visit Cleveland favorites Great Lakes Brewing and West Side Market. I love this city!

-------------
I finished Noah's Compass by Anne Tyler this week. It was ok. She reminds me of a female John Updike: I don't love her writing or even really enjoy it, but I respect it.
------------

Tonight is Pizza Night (I'm trying this). Happy Friday!

the pull of the moon

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 00:56:00 +0000

The Pull of the Moon by Elizabeth Berg

Amazon Book Description: In the middle of her life, Nan decides to leave her husband at home and begin an impromptu trek across the country, carrying with her a turquoise leather journal she intends to fill. The Pull of the Moon is a novel about a woman coming to terms with issues of importance to all women. In her journal, Nan addresses the thorniness—and the allure—of marriage, the sweet ties to children, and the gifts and lessons that come from random encounters with strangers, including a handsome man appearing out of the woods and a lonely housewife sitting on her front porch steps. Most of all, Nan writes about the need for the self to stay alive. In this luminous and exquisitely written novel, Elizabeth Berg shows how sometimes you have to leave your life behind in order to find it.

I read this book in two days, in two sittings, and I had two completely different reactions:

I began the book at the end of the day, when I was overly tired and overly emotional, and I wept for Nan and for every woman who in taking care of everyone else must lay herself down, discovering one day that she has lost herself.

The next day I finished the book, and I thought, Really? How many women have the luxury of crossing the country, staying in hotels and charming B&B's in order to "find herself"? Why are women so snively, so whiney, always wanting something we don't have? (Myself among them).

I sat on my grandmother's couch the other day and asked her, Why is everybody so miserable? So many marriages ending, so much unhappiness. Was it always this way? And she said Well, we couldn't afford to think about leaving. There was no money, divorce wasn't even a thought. We had to work things out.

And once again I have two different reactions:

I am glad that women today can leave their husbands if they need to. No doubt there were women in my grandmother's generation who suffered abuse in ways that no one ever knew. Today, women are not forced to be silent victims. Along with so many other freedoms, the freedom to divorce is good and necessary.

But of course freedom hasn't solved our problem, has it? Women are still unhappy, still searching for something out of reach.

I read this article a few weeks ago about a trend of women wishing their husbands would have an affair
because they do not want to be married anymore.

The common factor amongst all of these women is that they say that their husbands are really solid, good, nice men. They are not victims of physical or emotional abuse. They are not married to felons. They are not married to alcoholics or drug addicts. Their husbands are not having affairs. In fact, they tell me, there really isn't anything "wrong" with their husbands ... they just don't want to be married to them anymore because they have fallen out of love. It's actually a depressing conversation. When did we all become so unfulfilled with life?

I found this article irritating. When did we all become so unfulfilled? And why do women blame everyone else for our unhappiness?

This struggle for identity must be the curse in women . . . our identity and happiness can only be found in Christ.

Practical Theology for Women this week has a Scholarly Analysis of Gen.3:16 (...Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you). The entire post is really great, and I agree with her conclusion, that a woman's "desire for" her husband is not to dominate him, but to desire him to be what Christ alone can fill.

(The interpretation that our desire is to dominate never sat well with me; I have experience far more of the curse in my desire to be loved than in wanting to control my husband)

No, feminism isn't the ultimate problem. The problem didn't start as women wanting control over the men in their lives. Women set up men as idols and looked to them to provide emotionally, spiritually, physically what only God can provide. Apart from Christ, men oppressed them in return, hence the modern coping mechanisms of independence, self-sufficiency, and control (often ineffective) for dealing with that oppression. The curse read at face value reflects the real issue, and the gospel is the clear answer. The gospel gives the woman sufficiency in Him that allows her to stay engaged as a helper after God's own example. And when a man oppresses her to the point of abusing her or her children, that same gospel equips her to stand strong and remove herself and her children, for she is no longer so needy of the man that she has to subject her children to his sin. No, God, not her husband, is her Savior.

Neither phony happiness or guilt for being unhappy are what women need. Perhaps there is a season for every woman when it is good to run away, in whatever form that takes, to find time and space to figure out who she is or to grieve what she has left behind, to keep herself alive.

But I think it is also necessary that we look for and find our life in Christ who offers living water. Interesting that he offers this water to a woman, alone, who has had five husbands, and still thirsts.

Two related links:

"A Dog Could Take Care of Your Child" or Why I Quit Grad School to Stay at Home With My Kids"
at Carrots for Michaelmas- I loved this!

The Good Old Days at Home Sweet Home at Writer's Almanac

Tuesday my mother ironed my
father's underwear. Wednesday
she mended, darned socks on
a wooden egg. Shined shoes.
Thursday she scrubbed floors.
Put down newspapers to keep

them clean. Friday she
vacuumed, dusted, polished,
scraped, waxed, pummeled.
How did you become a feminist
interviewers always ask,
as if to say, when did this

rare virus attack your brain?
It could have been Sunday
when she washed the windows,
Thursday when she burned
the trash, bought groceries
hauling the heavy bags home. (read the rest here)

If you only read one of link, choose this one: Ruth's poem, Yellow Dress, describes some of this sense of a woman looking back and questioning who she could have been, but in such a delightful way!

Maybe we all need to take ourselves a lot less seriously?

source

related, the only marriage advice I would ever give

*I should add that Berg's writing in this book is gorgeous. Even though I am being critical, I do recommend reading it!

spring break and art to hang {with kids} {on the cheap}

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:37:00 +0000

This morning Jo at Mylestones published her list of what she's just not into right now (reading blogs and writing online among them), and I could totally relate; hence the two-week silence on this blog. I am so random with blogging, feast or famine . . . which is actually just so me and honestly, this is what I love about blogging. There are no rules.

nap (whatthewhat!!??)
I truly believe that my four year old may actually at this moment be napping, at the same time that her sister is napping . .. it has been quiet for nearly five minutes. WOW. I think I should go pour myself a glass of wine to celebrate. (updated: her toys fell off the bed and woke her. Oh, well, this way she'll sleep tonight).

spring break {on the cheap}

This minor miracle can only be due to the past ten days of spring break, in which we wore the pants off of the little people . . . My goal for break was to just be fully present, to put everything aside and enjoy my kids, having as much fun as possible but spending nearly no money at all. I felt like we had a really good Stay-cation, and our total cost: under $30.00! (thanks to visiting Nana and Papa, Pinterest, our public library, and the city of Cleveland).

learning to finger-knit

Jim took vacation two days this week and we decided to split duty with the toddler, and each take a day with the older kids. This worked out well as Josie generally demands so much attention and we could enjoy a day with just the big girls. I took the girls to the Cleveland Museum of Art (always free) and out for lunch, Jim took them to the Botanical Gardens (where we are members, so it is free).

(I bought the girls Easter dresses in the middle of winter a year or two ago on Clearance. It is fun to pull out new clothes we'd forgotten, and this is the only way I shop for clothes. Some day my girls may hate me for this, for now they are delighted)

decorating {on the cheap}

So yes, I have a degree in Fine Arts but you would never know this by looking at our house. The walls are still white, and although I would love to hang art everywhere I have little time to make art myself, and our inclination for decorating is about Zero; our decorating budget is less than that.

I believe your home should reflect your season of life, and the thing I do have time and enthusiasm for, and with the art supplies I already have requires nearly no money, is painting with my kids.

After our sober season of Lent in which I had removed most of the decorations from our home, I was ready for some COLOR on these walls. This was our collaborative art project:

There are tons of flowering trees like this in our neighborhood, so I thought this would be a good springtime project.

First I had each child (even 2 y.o. Josie with help from me) paint a canvas with any and as many shades of blue as they'd like.

After they dried I stapled them together underneath, and painted a big tree and branches.

Then I had the girls paint blossoms by stamping with the tops of paint bottles. I filled in later.
And here is our springtime painting:

We are currently working on another project for the mantle, coming soon!

Lent, Poetry, Being a SAHM, and why I don't exercise

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 02 Apr 2012 00:29:00 +0000

This week's miscellany . . .

This was a low-key week. My mom came to visit for a couple days, which we all love, and this weekend I took the kids home to my parents'- the land of no cell service, and 1998-speed internet- which once in a while is a good thing.

Baby #3

Today I stopped in the drug store that I ran to nearly three years ago to pick up a pregnancy test. It brought back how scared I was that day, and then how shocked to discover that I really was pregnant. Not that we didn't possibly want another child someday, it just felt impossible at the time. Jim had recently changed professions and wasn't yet getting full-time hours, we were living in a tiny apartment, I knew that I was in for another round of hyperemesis and was not mentally or practically prepared . . . and there were so many other overwhelming factors that at the time were all I could see . . . not the amazing gift of a third child at the end of the nine months, something that deep down I wanted more than anything.

In the drug store today I was wishing that I could go back and do it over, accept the bend in the road as God's beautiful surprise, anticipate the miracle with joy rather than fear.

I hope that the next time life happens in a way I do not expect . . . in the next turn of events that feel impossible or unpleasant, I will look at Josie and cling to the truth of God's goodness, to believe that every surprise is working together for good.

SAHM

Something about Josie turning two has me a little anxious about what's next . . . as though I suddenly need to make a decision- which I don't . . . yet I know that we could breathe a little easier if I were contributing something financially . . . there are several job possibilities I've been thinking about, along with a million other considerations.

Janet's post about being a Stay At Home Mom was encouraging. I liked the comments on this post as well.

To me it’s that availability that defines motherhood. When all is said and done, this time when they are at home is a fairly brief period. They will graduate from high school in the blink of an eye, and I don’t want to have any regrets. As long as God provides, we’ll keep on as a single-income family. One key element in all of this is that “provision” is not necessarily “abundance”; we live on less, and there are plenty of things we cannot afford. But the operative assumption is that presence is worth more than stuff, and so far nothing has happened to convince us otherwise.

Lent

I didn't write about it, but my Lenten "fast" this year was actually a work: to commit to writing (my novel) every day. I didn't always succeed, but this commitment allowed me to think of writing as a spiritual discipline rather than just a hobby. I hope to continue with this daily offering.

Related, this piece by Anne Lamott on Finding Time is so, so good (I believe I have posted this before):

there is nothing you can buy, achieve, own, or rent that can fill up that hunger inside for a sense of fulfillment and wonder. But the good news is that creative expression, whether that means writing, dancing, bird-watching, or cooking, can give a person almost everything that he or she has been searching for: enlivenment, peace, meaning, and the incalculable wealth of time spent quietly in beauty.
Then I bring up the bad news: You have to make time to do this.
This means you have to grasp that your manic forms of connectivity—cell phone, email, text, Twitter—steal most chances of lasting connection or amazement. That multitasking can argue a wasted life. That a close friendship is worth more than material success.

National Poetry Month
Today begins National Poetry Month. I really liked Ruth's post, especially this:

"April is the cruelest month, mixing memory and desire," wrote T.S. Eliot. Maybe that's why April was chosen as National Poetry Month, since one of the best ways I know of to deal with memory and desire, and the havoc they can wreak on me, is by reading poetry. Why else do you think a whole section of the Bible - including the longest book - is dedicated to poetry?

Books
Gilead by Marilynn Robinson

This book took me quite a long time to get through, but it was magical. Only fiction can contemplate God and life so luminously.

As I have told you, I myself was the good son, so to speak, the one who never left his father's house . . . I am one of those righteous for whom the rejoicing in heaven will be comparatively restrained. And that's all right. There is no justice in love, no proportion in it, and there need not be, because in any specific instance it is only a glimpse or parable of an embracing, incomprehensible reality. It makes no sense at all because it is the eternal breaking in on the temporal. So how could it subordinate itself to cause or consequence?

Exercise

I remembered this week why I do not exercise.

i am a little church by E.E.Cummings

In honor of National Poetry Month, here is a delightful little poem sent to me from a friend:

i am a little church (no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth’s own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying) children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection;
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope, and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church (far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish) at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring, i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever;
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

Wishing you a meaningful and blessed Holy Week!

Jess

where did this week go?

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 24 Mar 2012 14:23:00 +0000

Oh Friday how can you be here already? I just changed the sheets and scrubbed the bathrooms. Just yesterday I finished the laundry every last load- there was one washcloth and a tiny pair of panties left in the basket. And today the basket is full and there are rings in the tub and under my eyes and I am sitting down to write a post on ~~Friday~~ Saturday when it should only be noon on Tuesday. The days fly by.

This week, we . . .

Had a potty-training party. Josie has become quite picky about her diaper, as soon as it's wet she is crying to be changed, and she demands cloth not disposable and at night she just takes them off and tosses them over her crib. I'd say she's ready, though on our first day we did not have great success.

Did not sleep. She's having trouble sleeping at night. Just when she got over teething, she is waking up 8-10 times during the night again . . . I forgot about the sleepless two's!

Wore shorts! One cannot live in the midwest without commenting on the weather . .. sunny and 80's in March!?

Got a night out with some friends to hear Abraham Verghese. Fantastic.

In the kitchen . . .
Ina Garten's cranberry orange scones (better when they're fresh)
Brooklyn Girl's Penne Arrabiata (we all loved this)
Pizza with Kale, Roasted Garlic, and Four Cheeses (Sam and I loved it, others not so much)
Pulled Pork BBQ (easy and good)

Got to see some friends, play at the park, walk to school, wear sandals, drink iced tea . . . feels like Summer to me!

Have a great weekend!

tell about it

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 01:38:00 +0000

Tonight I was on my way out the door for a walk and paused to wave to the girls just as the sun was setting through the window in the bedroom. The room was lit pink, and their bodies were caught center-stage, god-like, awash in the glow of a holy moment.

But it was just a sunset. Just a moment, nothing holy, really.

******
Last night Jim and I and our friends Jo and Larry got to hear Dr. Abraham Verghese speak at Playhouse Square, and he was fantastic. He is a physician, professor, and author, his most recent Cutting for Stone which I reviewed here.

Verghese spoke about the practice of medicine in a way so awash in tenderness and beauty that even a non-scientific minded person like me found it fascinating. He drew us to the power of touch, of time and respect given to a patient. I kept thinking how inspiring is a passionately compassionate person. He has given his life to noticing the sacredness and beauty of the human body. I felt called to love.

*******
Today Rachel Held Evans posted the Fifteen Reasons She Returned to The Church, after her post yesterday, Fifteen Reasons I Left Church. I could relate to many of her reasons, on both lists.

On her list of reasons she returned, two that stood out to me were #4 and #10, Anne Lamott and Madeleine L'Engle. These two women would certainly be on a list I would write, as well.

One of the first posts I wrote on this blog was a tribute to Madeleine L'Engle, and how she came (or was it Mrs. Whatsit?) into my home as a ray of light during a particularly dark time.

*******
And on my walk tonight I kept thinking about Mrs. Whatsit, about Verghese and L'Engle and Lamott, people who call me to love and tenderness, to hope and wonder, back to faith. How thankful I am for them, how much more alive I am because of their way of looking at life, how glad I am that they told about it.

And what if everything matters, what if every moment of life is holy, awash in pink, and it is my choice moment by moment to see or not to see.

I am reading in the book of Leviticus, and today this verse lit up:
^5:1 “‘If anyone sins because they do not speak up when they hear a public charge to testify regarding something they have seen or learned about, they will be held responsible.

So I realize we no longer take our instructions for living from the book of Leviticus, but what if it were a sin, not to tell about what you have seen or learned?

It makes me think of another ray of light, Mary Oliver:
"Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be amazed.
Tell about it."

a human burden (Kony 2012)

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 19:55:00 +0000

I have been quasi-following the Kony 2012 chatter, and I wanted to post a few responses that I thought were excellent:

Viral Video, Vicious Warlord by Nicholas Kristof

When a warlord continues to kill and torture across a swath of Congo and Central African Republic, that’s not a white man’s burden. It’s a human burden.

Jen Hatmaker

I believe we can engage a complicated crisis with respect for one another. We need not resort to name calling and slandering and throwing rocks at the soldiers on the frontlines while we write blogs on the couch. The lowest common denominator should not be our benchmark any longer. If you want to take a stab at someone, go for child predators and human traffickers and corrupt officials and complacent, indulged elitists who have made a living out of criticizing while not lifting a finger for their fellow man. Or Joseph Kony.
As for me, I’m going to move with the movers.

Kristen Howerton

Should we bask in blind privilege while being apathetic and ignorant to the rest of the world, for fear of someone chastising us for our privilege if we try to help someone less fortunate? Ridiculous. White privilege exists, whether someone is making a documentary about the Acholi people or working a corporate job in ad sales. Frankly, I’m a little sick of it being levied as an insult for anyone who dares to advocate for people of another race or culture.

Sadly, a day or two after each of these posts were written, we learned of filmmaker Jason Russell's arrest and hospitalization following an apparent mental breakdown. He was obviously broken by all of the criticism and stress.

I feel such heaviness and compassion for Jason and his family. The only response to the open failure of another can only be sorrow for our common human frailty, an acknowledgement of the brokenness in each of us.

We are every one of us so conflicted with both heaven and hell, virtue and sin- we are all capable of both greater good and greater evil than we think we are.

And because it is the sensitive soul that bears these rare qualities of raw compassion and courage required to dream visions and make art, it is also this soul most easily afflicted, most tormented.

I want to believe that all is not lost- that the work of Invisible Children may only become more alive because the mission now is clearly not about elitism, but about the wounded fighting for the wounded, frail humanity speaking out on behalf of frail humanity.

I hope this footnote to the Kony 2012 story will help us to face the limits of ourselves, and humble us to live in vulnerability and courageous art.

Friday re-cap 3.16

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 18:06:00 +0000

The weather is so great here this week. Yesterday when I opened the door to let in the fresh air this is what I found. Apparently I live with a family of squirrels.

Speaking of squirrels, the kids spent hours outside yesterday, but in the evening I was cleaning up the dishes and Josie was begging to go out but I wouldn't let her, and she stood there sobbing, "Pease Mama! I want to see da bunnies! And da wabbits! And da squiwels! And da biwrdies! And da wobins! Pease Mama!" and how do you say no to that?

I had one moment of panic Sunday evening, after the birthday party was cleaned up and I had tucked my two-year old in for the night. I don’t have babies anymore! And there will likely be no more babies on the horizon. It has been what defined me for so many years- diaper bags, sippy cups, nap schedules, lullabies. I love it, and I eventually found a certain confidence in mothering, and a safety in the simplicity of my role, the way that it eliminated so many other options. But now as my baby is growing up I find that my role is changing as well, and I am beginning to think about what is next. I am so unspeakably grateful that I have been able to be a stay at home mom, and I don't intend to give it up anytime soon. It is always a little unsettling, change. Dwell in possibility.

Everything is lighter, simpler, easier these days. We are sleeping! (I know I have mentioned it before, but I am still surprised and rejoicing over this fact every morning).

This morning at the grocery store my sweet Annie who normally can become overwhelmed in the store was nothing but sugar, bouncing and singing beside me. Annie singing "you shall go out with joy" in the aisles of Costco today may be one of my favorite memories ever. She is taking a little ballet class and loves it. Josie sits and watches the whole time which is 100x better than I expected. I think it helps that the class falls right before her naptime.

Speaking of Costco- I feel a little uneasy shopping there. Does something feel unethical about buying these giant quantities of toilet paper or is this just me? Because it is nice to not have to shop for toilet paper for the next fifteen years.

And Sam is losing teeth! I can't help but be a little sad to see them pop out so easily, remembering how hard she worked to get them.

The fresh air and sunshine have me thinking about summer. I am oh-so ready for school to be out and for plenty of uninterrupted time with Sami. I can't believe how much I miss her, or how short the time is that we get to see her after school.

Well that is my Friday afternoon recap. It was a peaceful, sunny week, and I am thankful. I think I will try to do these on Fridays, just the little random bits of home that I don't want to forget.

A peaceful and sunny weekend to you!

I have been thinking about existence

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 18:47:00 +0000

I have been thinking about existence lately. In fact, I have been so full of admiration for existence that I have hardly been able to enjoy it properly. . . .

I feel sometimes as if I were a child who opens its eyes on a world once and sees amazing things it will never know any names for and then has to close its eyes again. I know this is all mere apparition compared to what awaits us, but it is only lovelier for that. There is a human beauty in it. And I can't believe that, when we have all been changed and put on incorruptibility, we will forget our fantastic condition of mortality and impermanence, the great bright dream of procreating and perishing that meant the world to us. In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets. Because I don't imagine any reality putting this one in the shade entirely, and I think piety forbids me to try.

from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

the very best kind of weekend . . .

(rainbow fruit skewers)

heading out to a birthday party . . . for the first time alone

guest room ready for company

she's TWO!

Gossie's red boots are missing again

her best buddy

Happy Tuesday to You! (Josie version)

At the end of a fun, busy, happy weekend . . .

some feel like dancing

some become pensive

some just fall asleep.

It was such a great, full weekend, which is why the Engineer didn't have time to write his follow-up post . . . hopefully coming soon!

Kony: idealist vs. scientist

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 19:01:00 +0000

Yesterday I watched this, not realizing that it was "trending" and "viral," and I cried, along with half the planet. I found it incredibly moving, and was struck by how amazing compassion + creativity can be when put to good use.

KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.

Today I have caught bits and pieces of the criticism that has since been unleashed.

I am the first to admit that I can be easily duped, that I respond first with my emotions.

I am an optimist. An INFP idealist/ optimist. I believe everything. I can't help it, I was born that way. Since I have been married I have been allowed to see what a pain in the ass that sometimes makes me.

The problem is that I am married to an INTJ scientist, which means he lives in a world of rationality and logic (things I find irrelevant ;-). And to be honest, sometimes that is a pain in the ass.

And sometimes I am slow to admit that my husband is often right.

But sometimes I am right too.

I love the idealism of this movement.

I found it irritating to listen to the naysayers today. Why for every idealist out there, must there be an army of bloggers ready to rip him to pieces.

And yet I reluctantly admit that the critics are necessary too.

There is no perfect organization or strategy.

But isn't it inspiring to find people who are trying anyway?

I, for one, am praying for the children of Uganda, and for the capture of any evil person, something I hadn't been doing before I watched this video yesterday.

The video reminded me that idealism, and passion, and hope, are beautiful . . . and miracles are possible.

And I am asking myself what is the good that is in my power to do, with every creative resource God has given me, however small and flawed?

Rachel Held Evans has a good list of Kony 2012 resources

I have asked Jim to watch this video and respond on my blog tomorrow!

Book + Link

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 10:25:00 +0000

Breaking news . . . after so many years without sleep, I just have to say how easy life has suddenly become . . . and not only at night. This week I noticed a rather unnerving calm in our house . . . nobody crying, no up-all-night, no clinging to mama all day long . . . and I didn't even have to pay for it with every puzzle box upturned or baby lotion coating the bathroom. The girls are all in a sweet and hilarious phase. I laugh a thousand times a day.

The Shaping of a Life
My criticism of most memoirs is that they are twice as long as they need to be. This one was different, it was four times longer than it needed to be. I like Tickle's approach to life, and there were some interesting chapters, but I plowed through the last half of this book (skimming) out of shear determination to get. it. done. Even the editor must have been bored by the end because one paragraph repeated itself entirely in the last chapter.

I was hoping to learn how Tickle managed to balance her family of seven children with her career and writing, but this book only traced her "shaping" years- the years leading up to her family life. I liked her Farm at Lucy series, and I plan to read The Divine Hours next, but this one tested my endurance.

Here is one paragraph that made it worth it . . . kinda.

It was in Pelzer that I first learned to trust and record without requiring a prior understanding or a logical cohesion. Whatever else that may mean or imply, it means first and primarily that my mind and will had at last been honed enough to recognize and engage the commerce of the interior life; it means the mind and will alike had learned to barter and tithe, buy and sell, the goods of the body; it means that mind and will were at last selecting for themselves which merchants in the spirit's world were to be trusted and in which stores to shop. It means that youth was almost done.

In which I reject the temptation of negative definition of the kingdom of God
And I think that the Kingdom is every good and perfect moment in our life serving as a taste, just a small taste, of what God truly intended. It's making your tinies laugh. It's sleeping babes curled into their mother's breast and the heft of holding another soul. It's silent nights of snow and cold water in your throat on a hot day. It's wisdom and beauty, peace, love and joy and then it's also good coffee and real food, late afternoon sun and handmade quilts. It's the renewal of morning and the intimacy of night.

Lent: Hope

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 16:41:00 +0000

warning: this is a long one. Read it if you like, but I wrote this as a lecture to myself.

I feel pressed to write about Lent as training in hope, though I do not quite understand it myself and certainly do not deserve to write about it. I become discouraged, my hope withers, all the time, and yet I feel continually called back to hope; to illogical, stubborn hope.

It is the most important thing in the world, Hope. I do not know how I would live without it.

I think that it is the most courageous thing we are called to, and it happens beneath the surface, in the dark, this long stretch of grey before spring.

Hope rails against the impossible. In fact impossible is a necessary ingredient for hope- if it is logical, probable, possible, it is not hope. It is at the end of hope that hope happens . . . the end of our understanding and logic, at the end of who we thought we were or who we thought God is, at the end of what we believed that God would do.

I think of Lent as this grey of March. It is the season that gives voice to our failure and regret, lack of understanding, our impossible. We are incapable of love, incapable of any good thing . . .

Almighty and most merciful father,
we have erred and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep,
we have followed too much the devices and desires of our
    own hearts,
we have offended against thy holy laws,
we have left undone those things which we ought to
    have done,
and we have done those things which we ought not to
    have done.

This is why I need to lead my children through Lent.

Because someday life will grow dark.

Much of life is spent here, in the fog and failure, wrestling our why's before God . . . they need to know this.

To teach my children to hope- the reason for hope- is my most important job as a parent. It is the greatest gift I can give them.

We were reading our book of Bible Stories during breakfast and on this day I opened to the story of Abraham offering his son on the altar . . .

"Abraham didn't understand, but he was sure God knew best. He would obey."

I looked up to find questions in her eyes and I could only look back with questions. And honestly? I was angry.

Every day I tell them how good God is, so very good, that He loves and loves and loves. Every day I call out to them the good things he does, and gives, and every evening we thank Him for His goodness. We had just read about the miracle of Abraham and Sarah conceiving Isaac and see, isn't God good?

And I am sure that this passage can be dissected and explicated and and debated . .. but I can only understand it as the place where we choose to give God everything. To surrender to him all of our understanding and love most and even His very goodness, what we understand of his goodness, we give it back to Him.

I was angry that morning because it just seemed like too much, unreasonable . . .

Later I read about Abraham in the new testament, a verse I hadn't noticed before:

Heb.11:19, Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead . . .

This was new for me: Abraham's faith wasn't in his sacrifice, but in his hope.

And this is Lent: the journey to Moriah. The wrestling in the Garden.
And this is faith: full surrender.
And this is hope: Easter morning. God can raise the dead.

I cannot rejoice in the resurrection without the Cross, and before the cross is the Garden. Before Abraham laid Isaac on the altar, they climbed the mountain.

I cannot rejoice in hope without this reasoning, wrestling, the logical dismantling. . . finally laying aside all doubts and fears and choosing to surrender to hope.

And this is the other impossibility of hope: it extends beyond my lifetime. I may never understand in this life, but God can even raise the dead . . .

¹³ All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. ¹⁴ People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. ¹⁵ If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. ¹⁶ Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

Hymns for Lent

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 19:20:00 +0000

Photo source + Top Ten Hymns to Teach Your Children

In my post about observing Lent with children I mentioned that one practice I am being more intentional about during Lent is singing hymns.

A few weeks ago the topic of the adult sunday school class at church was on hymns, and we were asked to each share a favorite hymn and why it is meaningful, and then we enjoyed an old-fashioned a cappella hymn sing. It was one of the most uplifting times I have experienced recently. Hymns that I'd not heard in years came back to me, and I felt again the power of God through the rich poetry of old familiar hymns.

The sermon message later was on the importance of the arts and music in worship. The speaker described the way that people experience God, some through intuition and some through reason, and that typically, those who rely more on intuition tend to experience God more easily than they who rely on reason. The speaker referred to an article (that I wish I could find) saying that one way more rational people can practice the presence of God is through music.

I missed most of the message because I was with the kids, but Jim told me about it later and it made so much sense, especially after my morning experience in the presence of God through the beauty of hymns.

This is why I am re-learning hymns for myself, and teaching them to my kids. There is power and beauty in the hymns of our faith, and who knows how one day they may bring comfort, remembrance, hope, even faith, to our children.

What is your favorite hymn?

Be Thou My Vision

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Words: Dallan Forgail (8th Century)

source

Lent

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 18:29:00 +0000

May all your expectations be frustrated,

May all your plans be thwarted,

May all your desires be withered into nothingness,

that you may experience the paralysis and poverty of a child,

and sing and dance in the compassion of God

who is Father, Son and Spirit,

Amen and Amen.

-Brennan Manning

observing Lent with children

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 19:26:00 +0000

I didn't grow up in a tradition that observes Lent, but I have always been drawn to symbols and seasons, and so I have approached Lent for several years as sort of an outsider, curious and learning as I attempted my own Lenten practices.

Kids love symbols, and Lent is a perfect time to use symbols to teach our kids spiritual truth.

I have found this season to be deeply meaningful, even necessary, and hopefully I will post soon about why I have come to cherish this time of year, and am eager to lead my children through an observance of Lent.

As Lent begins tomorrow with Ash Wednesday, I thought that I would first write about a few of the ways that I plan to observe Lent with our young children this year.

The traditional purpose of Lent is the penitential preparation of the believer—through prayer, penance, repentance, almsgiving, and self-denial. (Wikipedia)

I am reluctant to practice any kind of religious observance that will cause dread or fear in my kids. For this reason I did not intend to ask them to give anything up for Lent. But last night as we were explaining to Sami what Lent is about, her immediate reaction was to declare that she will be giving up all sugar, and does not want any dessert in her lunch. This morning she reminded me to not put any sweets in her lunch, but I told her that she doesn't actually begin her fast until tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about her denying herself as a six year old, but I think that I will just walk with her through this and let her decide how devout she plans to be to her fast.

(Her response also convicted me to at least give up sugar as well!)

I intend to focus more on what we will do for Lent rather than give up: prayer, repentance, and almsgiving.

I removed many of the decorations from our home and replaced them with purple cloth and bare branches. I also have a pot of aloe on the mantel which I learned is the language for grief or sorrow. On Easter morning the bare branches will bloom with bright bouquets of flowers.

A dark, wintery painting now hangs in our living room, which on Easter morning will be replaced with a painting of vibrant color.

Tomorrow for Ash Wednesday we will make crosses with ash on paper and talk about why we mourn over our sin. Then we will put stones and the word "Hallelujah" in a box and bury it. On Easter morning we will unearth our Hallelujah, and the stones will have turned to sparkly gems or butterflies.

Prayer: I am printing out a calendar for the 40 days of Lent with specific things to pray for: our President, pastors, school, etc.

Almsgiving: We will be talking about ways that we can bless others. One of the qualities of a seed is that it's whole identity is in it's giving.

Repentance: At some point I will follow Ann's example and pour a bowl of flour and talk about repentance . . . but not to leave out for Lent because I don't want to sweep flour all day long :-). For now we have printed out Col.3:12-14 to talk about and memorize.

Signs of Spring (resurrection!): Over the next few weeks we will be on the look-out for signs of spring. We will bring them home to display on our nature table, or to color in a "spring-sightings" journal.

One of the ways I am most eager to observe Lent is by focusing on singing hymns- as a family, at bedtime, over my children, throughout my day. I've always felt shy about singing except with my kids- but more about that later . . .

I will do my best to blog our Lenten observance as we journey through it this year. I feel it is important to keep our family rituals simple and light, always leaving room for a sense of holy beauty and reverence that has been passed down to us from age to age; we are only it's brief participants.

And now I believe there is still chocolate in the house that needs taken care of . . . enjoy your Fat Tuesday!

Great post by Rachel Held Evans: 40 Ideas for Lent.

2 links + 2 books

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 12:19:00 +0000

After stepping back from technology and also reading Alone Together by Sherry Turkle, I wrote about stepping carefully back into technology. Since then I have wondered if maybe my reaction is too strong, that although there is always something lost with new technology there are of course good things gained as well. Here is an opposite take on social media: Take it and Tweet it at Q Ideas

So really, the question has never been “if” people congregate in digital spaces, but, given the fact of their online location, it’s a question of “how” grace and the gospel will find them there. . . “By bringing the fullness of our lives to bear in ministry and social media, we bear witness to the fullness of life in God. After all, the real presence here is God’s, and it is through our real and authentic presence in social media that we most clearly and effectively point to God.”

I suppose we will be always grappling with finding the right balance and relationship to the internet. I think that the question of what technology is doing to our humanity is an important and ongoing conversation.

Jesus Creed- Saturday (not a book) Review: Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Why would a magazine choose to describe Lisbeth Salander as the “coolest heroine?” What is it about Salander that has fascinated us as a society? What is it about her story that seems to ring so true? . . . You see, in many ways, Lisbeth Salander, as first conceived by Steig Larrsen, represents the next step in the cultural evolution of the female archetype. . .
we also fail to tell a different story! We make sloppy hermeneutical decisions to violate the text and propagate the false idea that Junia was a man. We rarely speak on Huldah. We barely touch on Deborah. In fact, about the only thing we tend to offer is a vision of the “godly wife” from Proverbs 31 – . ..

The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

The Paris Wife is the fictional perspective of Ernest Hemingway's first wife Hadly. It was interesting because I knew nothing about Ernest Hemingway's personal life, and this book revealed him and the period of the 1920's artistic subculture in a fascinating light. The book was also a fun read to me because the author lives in Cleveland and (supposedly) wrote this book at a Starbucks on Cedar that we pass frequently. This made me want to read more Ernest Hemingway.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I have a thousand things that I need to do this week, I am so tired and could not wait to go to sleep early last night. . . but this book would not let me put it down until I read that last page in the wee hours this morning. It's that good. Intense, moving . .. you will love this book! Throughout the story is woven the language of flowers, something I had never understood and am inspired now to learn more. Beautiful book. Thanks, Jamilyn, for the recommendation!

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. I hope to post later today about some ways our family will be observing Lent with our children, and why.

a delight

noreply@blogger.com (Jessica) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 11:09:00 +0000

We were out of milk. We needed milk, a can of tomatoes, and shampoo. And a birthday card. And maybe something fun while we’re out. It was a Monday morning with nowhere we needed to be, I just might even get a chance to browse.

Is this plan unreasonable? A morning Target run after I drop our oldest off at school, just long enough to grab a few groceries and scan the clearance aisle. Don’t I deserve new gloves, maybe a scarf to go with them, and three minutes to enjoy deliberating over the color?

But before we had even left home that Monday I knew that it was going to be one of those days. First aggressive combat was needed to get out the door, and then there were emphatic opinions about the music in the car and the situation did not improve when we got to Target but only grew louder and more persistent, quickly inspiring the younger sister to do likewise. And nothing can ruin a sweet deal on layering tanks like two irrational children in the cart.

I was angry. By the time we left the store I wanted to wail, as well. There was a time when I would have been embarrassed by the behavior, or stressed-out, but on this day I was just mad. Didn’t I deserve thirty minutes to shop? The whole way home I fumed and when we walked in the door I sent one to her rocking chair to chill out, and to give myself a chance to calm down as well. I knew that she needed discipline, but I needed to think first.

I have three very different daughters and I haven’t always understood their reactions or what triggers them. To my great regret I have in the past reacted out of my own frustration rather than understanding.

I know by now that this child is easily over-stimulated. She hates the bright lights and distractions in a store, she always has. We’d had an especially busy weekend which is always extra hard on this child who prefers home and quiet. On this Monday morning I’d have been wiser to grab the milk and leave rather than wandering the aisles.

Of course our children need to learn to obey, but there is another equally essential principal which is “Fathers, do not exasperate your children” (Ephesians 6:4).

It helps to remember that I am still a work in progress, that I can be irrational and triggered by small things. Think of the things we depend on heavily, and how we might react if they were taken from us: our morning coffee, our internet connection, hair gel; if I as a grown adult have certain things that I need to cope with life, why would I expect my four year old to be able to pull herself together when she feels overwhelmed?

Before I reacted that morning I happened to read this link that my friend Ashley recommended, loving a “wild child:”

“You’re at your wits about what to do. You don’t want her to become a wild out-of-control teenager, but discipline is not working, in fact, she laughs in the face of discipline . . . I mean, what do you do with a child like that? Well, I’ll tell you what I’m learning.You love them like mad.More specifically, Tell your little one that they are a delight. Sometimes with this one, the words have to come first. I was not delighting my darling Caroline, but I said the words to her, “you, Caroline, are a delight!” and in my head I would pray, ‘Oh Father, please make these words true.’ And He did.”

As parents we are given the responsibility to correct, train, discipline. Yes. But these flow out of our delight in them. They do not earn our delight. They are a delight because God created them. Because He delights in them. Even in their wild moments. Even when they meltdown at Target.

Somehow in my mess God is ever patient and merciful toward me; slow to anger and abounding in love and faithfulness. If only I could parent my children as graciously as my Heavenly Father does me.

Later I went to her rocking in her rocking chair, gathered her onto my lap and told her, “Annie, you are a delight. You make me so happy. Do you know that?” We didn’t need to talk anymore about our angry morning. Later she came to me, “Mom I’m not going to throw fits anymore. I’m never going to do that.” She has promised this before, and so I smiled and hugged her and said, “you know what Annie, even if you do I will still always, always love you.”

“The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zepheniah 3:17

(originally published in the Budget- this is the blog version.)