So, a few weeks ago, in kinship (sort of like a midweek Bible study), during ministry time, the leader, Jonathan, came over to pray for me.  During that time, he said something like, “I see you as a ballerina, like a Russian ballerina, with a bunch of little girls around you, learning from you.”  Only maybe 20 minutes later, a young woman in the kinship named Amy came up to me and said, “I have a guitar that’s actually my mother’s, but she said I could use.  Would you teach me to play?”

Now, normally, I think I would resist.  I am SO NOT an expert guitar player*.  I am mostly self-taught, and I have some bad habits**, and I mostly play guitar just to have something to accompany my voice — the best guitar players are the other way around:  they play to accompany someone else’s voice.  But… do I know more than Amy?  Yes***.  Can I at least get her started?  Yes.  She doesn’t even know how to change strings and tune up her guitar…  So, tonight, which is our first meeting, that’s where we’re starting:  Putting some fresh strings on and tuning.  If we get to it, I printed off a few pages of simple music theory and chord charts.  I told her that if she was willing to make the drive out to my house, and accommodate my tricky schedule, I’d give her lessons for free, once every two weeks.  Because she’s not paying me, that releases me from all sorts of pressure.

I have long been hesitant to be a LEADER, to step into any kind of role with authority and responsibility.  I also get fearful of disappointing people, like if they have certain expectations of me that I can’t live up to.  But, I think that it’s time to stop avoiding leadership due to fear, and invest in someone besides my own self.  Plus, the connection between Jonathan’s word over me and Amy’s request was undeniable.

I’m looking forward to tonight’s meeting with Amy.  I told her to come with her guitar, her new strings, and to trim the nails on her left hand VERY short.  Even though I’m not REALLY a ballet virtuoso (or whatever they’re called), I’m excited about seeing the prophetic put into action. 

———

* I do, however, have a strong voice and I lead worship in that kinship.

** Like keeping my left thumb looped over the top of the fretboard so that I can quickly pick up the F# when I play a D.  But, this leads to difficulty in shifting to barre chords, because my thumb is in the wrong place… added with my weak hands (or something) that results in me perennially avoiding barre chords;  I will transpose just about any song and throw on a capo so I can keep playing in 1st position.

*** I also told Amy that if I teach her guitar, it will specifically be guitar for worship, not Awesome Shredder Fame-on-a-Stage guitar playing.  The motivation for those two kinds of guitar playing are SO different, and it informs what and how you learn.  She was all right with that.  It’s what she wanted.

Every week or two, I visit a gigantic, fun, confusing grocery called Lee Lee Market.  Ostensibly, it’s an Asian market, meaning all of Asia, as they have aisles for Japan, Korea, China, Thailand and more.  Additionally, they have food from Africa, Mexico, Spain, South America, the Middle East (which I guess is technically Asia) and… Holland.  Why Holland?  I don’t know.  But, there’s an entire half-aisle of foodstuffs with labels in Dutch.

I don’t go for the Dutch food;  I get things like fresh veggies (there are about 10 different varieties of bok choy), gluten-free rice snacks from Japan, and garbanzo flour — I have officially graduated to the ten pound sacks!  I also buy lamb at Lee Lee.  Though it’s frozen, Lee Lee has the best prices and selection of lamb that I’ve found, including thinly sliced boneless leg roasts, which we call Lamb-Umms.  Most recently, I went to Lee Lee for rice.

Last time I went to Lee Lee, I had looked for plain white long grain rice, and oddly enough, I couldn’t find it.  I found all sorts of OTHER rice, but not your regular run-of-the-mill white.  (For the record, our family is split between white rice and brown rice lovers.  I’m in the brown rice camp, but I’ll still serve white rice to delight those who like it.  However, I’m still on the total elimination diet with Fiala, and she and I get to eat none of it.)  While I shopped in vain, I kept thinking, “C’mon!  It’s an ASIAN market.  Why don’t they have plain rice???”

This most recent trip, I figured out my error.  I was looking amongst the normal aisles of food.  Rice is in a corner towards the front of the store, in the BULK FOODS section.  Ten, twenty, fifty pound sacks of all sorts of varieties of rice.  Rice, rice, and more rice.

So, there I stood, contemplating the dizzying array, trying to compare prices (I was a bit baffled by the price signs, which didn’t seem to match the selection very well).  I gravitated towards a 10 lb bag of basmati rice in a lovely burlap sack.  However, being that it was in burlap and the writing was mostly not in English, I couldn’t figure out if it was brown rice or white.  I saw a little tag added with cooking directions, probably for the benefit of Americans.  I thought, “OK.  If the directions say ‘cook for 45 minutes’ it’s probably brown.  Ten-twelve minutes, it’ll be white.”

As I set about my investigation, a short older lady sidled up to me.  Helpfully, she asked, “Do you know how to cook rice?”

I insisted that I did, and explained my situation, asking her if she knew if it was white or brown.

“Oh, it’s white rice.  You’re looking to buy rice, then?”

Yes, I certainly was.

Found a pic!! This is my rice!

She gently grabbed my arm and steered me further down the piles of sacks.  “Then this is the rice you want.”  She lovingly laid her hand on a dayglo orange bag of rice.  I saw the word “parboiled” on the label.  Out of politeness, I inspected the bag, but I was doubtful.

I turned to her husband, who lingered nearby, “You like this rice, too?”

“Oh, yes.  We drive here all the time, just for this rice.  My wife won’t buy any other kind.”

Peering at the image on the front of the bag, I asked, still unsure, “Is the rice yellow, like in the picture?”

“Yes.  Well, no.  More like golden.  Well, more like off-white.  The grain is yellow, maybe ivory-colored, but it cooks up off-white.”

I was not convinced.  I had been holding a bag, but set it down again.  She looked disappointed.

Sweetly, the lady continued, in a confiding tone, “We’re from Afghanistan.  We eat rice with every meal.  If you serve a meal to someone from Afghanistan, and there is no rice, they will ask you, ‘Where is the rice?’  When you make this rice, you will know by the aroma.  You will make it, and the aroma will rise into the air, and your family will be drawn into the kitchen and say, ‘Oh, that aroma…’  When it is cooking, you will know that it is good rice.  The right rice.”

Who could argue with that??? 

With a last longing glance at the handsome burlap sack, I hefted the 10 lb orange, zipper-topped sack into my cart, thanking her for her advice.  “Upon your recommendation, I will try it.”

“Oh, your family will love it.  I am sure,” she smiled.

I perused the overhead labels;  I didn’t want to buy a $30 bag of rice.  As best as I could tell, it was about $12.  That’ll do.

The label has various words in English:  Royal King Sella Parboiled Basmati.  In searching fruitlessly for a picture, I’ve found that “sella” refers to golden rice.  It is not quite golden, but it is off-white.

I’m not sure where the “parboiled” part comes in.  To me, parboiled means Minute Rice — previously cooked, then dehydrated, leaving rough, bent rice grains which then re-”cook” in the few minutes that it takes the grains to re-soak-up the water.  The rice from Lee Lee has directions that say, basically, to soak it for two hours (I didn’t), then add water and cook for 12-15 minutes.  Sounds like normal rice to me.  It’s definitely not parboiled.  Maybe something was lost in translation.

The verdict?  Everyone thought it was dreamy-wonderful.  Everyone except for Audrey.  Like only a 3yo can, she asked, without even trying it, “Why does this rice smell weird?  I don’t like it.”  She did finally eat it, somewhat begrudgingly.  Everyone else scarfed it down and had seconds.

And I have had a warm feeling in my heart for the last 48 hours or so, from being coerced by a sweet Afghan grandmother into buying rice that I likely wouldn’t have, otherwise.

Took an hour and a half, but Ethan’s hair is finally cut.  It’s always a toss-up between money spent at the “haircut store” and the hassle of bringing five kids on errands, and the exorbitant amount of time it takes me to cut his hair.  I’m happy with it, he’s happy with it, and my hubby is happy with it, though, so that makes it worth it.  I think.

(Previously, his hair was BELOW that tee shirt collar.  It was the longest ever.  So, now it has just a wee bit of length to it.)

My 10yo son Grant decided to create a newspaper for his journal assignment this morning.  He was so pleased with himself, he ripped it out of his notebook and stuck it to the fridge.

However, I thought that his Obama article couldn’t possibly be true.  I asked him, “Where did you hear about that?”

“At Grandpa’s.  It was on his XM radio.”  (That was my husband’s Dad, who kept the older two boys overnight last weekend so my hubby and I could take a quick trip for our anniversary.)

Then, I Googled it.  Grant had heard right.  (Although it’s actually one man and one woman, not two men.)  I think that bit of “reaching out” is taking it WAY too far, like the three little pigs trying to make peace with the big bad wolf by opening their home to him…  Doesn’t Obama read Aesop?  Not that the three little pigs is an Aesop fable.  But, that plan just has foolishness written all over it, IMO, and unfortunately, I think it leaves the U.S. vulnerable to wind up as the moral of a tragic Aesop-style story.

(You can click the “newspaper” to bring up a larger copy of the scan.)

I have started three different posts in the last week or so, and got enough done on them that I couldn’t just delete them, so I saved them as drafts when I was unable to finish.  There they sit, in the drafts folder.

Things are all right here… other than my hubby getting a major infection in the wound of his surgery site.  That is NOT good, and, as we pondered what might God have in store for us, or what it is we’re to learn through this whole ordeal, I understated, “It’s a challenge.” 

So, again… I must run.

If you’re a mom, and you’re struggling with anything, but especially with feeling that you’re not measuring up to… whatever standard you think you should be measuring up to, please read this.  It brought me to tears, and made me wish I lived right next door to my bloggy friend Laura, who wrote it, both to hug her, to congratulate her, and to share in the journey, because mine has been very similar!!!!

These lines, near the end, are my favorite, but please do yourself a favor and read the whole thing!!

I know He wants my heart. not my ideals, not my perfection, not my wishes and desires. and certainly not MY plans for my life. He wants my heart and devotion. my wholehearted devotion.

The last few days have seen record heat in the Phoenix area.  Granted, it’s November, so it’s not sweltering… but yesterday did get up to 91°F, a record.  Days in the high 80s/low 90s make for very pleasant mornings in the high 60s/low 70s.  So, the girls and I spent some time in the back yard this morning…

Plus, my very brave friend Allison took all three boys to spend the night at her place last night.  Her own boys are 8 & 10, and my boys (aged 8, 10, & 12) get along so well with them.  Her son Joel and my Wesley are actually birthday twins, born the same day of the same year.  They are also the lone other homeschooling family in our church, so it works out well that we all get along!  Midweek sleepovers — yet another perk of homeschooling!

I love Allison, too.  So does Audrey.  Audrey only recently decided that she will stay as my daughter, and not Allison’s.    I think Audrey was hoping for co-parenting rights or something!  When she realized that living at Allison’s house full-time would mean that I wouldn’t be her Mommy, she decided to stay here, with me as her Mommy.  Whew! 

So, yesterday afternoon, after homeschool park day, I went home with just the girls.  It’s been peaceful but weird not having the boys around.  Usually Audrey mopes around when our family is not All Together (which I think is dear), but she’s handling it really well this time.

Anyways.

Here are the girls in the back yard this morning.  (By the way, Fiala has been referred to AS A BOY in that top, bit pink bow and everything.)

Sweet & Smiley Fi

Found something to chew on

Hmmm... wonder where she gets the "barefoot in jeans" look from???

Sweet sisters (if only for a moment -- I think Fiala is actually going for Audrey's jingle bell bracelet)

Dancing, twirling, swirling, running, jumping girl!!

Normally, I’m pretty tight with handing out my personal info.  And, I already get about 15 different e-mail newsletters from various places which regularly clog my inbox.  However, I thought that this one was worth it.

Sign up for the gluten-free newsletter from the Hain Celestial group (they ask for your name, e-mail addy, and ZIP code only).  After sign-up is complete, you click a link to print out a coupon.  (Unless you’ve signed up for other offers from coupons.com, you’ll likely have to download their software.)  After it prints, simply click again to print another copy.  A fellow celiac on the Phoenix Yahoo Celiac group managed to print out 20 of them before she hit the limit.  I started, anticipating 20 as well, but I only got 14.  Still.  Fourteen bucks off of products that I already buy is a fantastic deal.  (The only drawback to this, in my book, is that each coupon prints a full page of full color, both for the coupon, additional text and pics.  That’s a waste of ink and paper, in my book.  To conserve paper, I printed coupons on both sides, and now the backs of my coupons have text, but that should be fine.)

Included in the Hain Celestial group of products are Rice Dream products, Arrowhead Mills, De Boles pasta, Imagine soups and others.  (Click here for the whole list.)

My husband just called to say that the biopsy from the nodule removed from his abdominal wall on Wednesday was NEGATIVE for malignancy.  Woo hoo!  Hallelujah!  Praise God!  That is definitely, definitely an answer to prayer.

A bit of backstory:  He went in for what was supposed to be hernia surgery, but the doc came out to say that it wasn’t a hernia at all;  it was a nodular growth that was rooted in his abdominal muscle, and that he had to cut in/through the muscle in order to get it out, thereby CREATING a hernia, which he then repaired.  Martin is doing mostly-OK now;  I think he should have taken another day (today) off of work, but no matter…

Anyways.

He sent an e-mail to our pastor and cc’ed me on it.  I asked him if I could post it on my blog as a guest post.  I know that there is info in it that is going to be irrelevant to 99.5% of my readers… but it expresses my own sentiments so clearly.  I have been overwhelmed with our particular church body stepping up and helping us in so many ways…  It makes me love God and His church all the more.

Dennis & Nancy,

 

I just wanted to let you both know something. Something you probably already know, but is worth reminding ourselves of, especially as you, Dennis, have been exhorting us to “remember the things that we have heard and that were imparted to us by the laying on of hands…”

 

We have an incredible God, who has built up in us, His incredible church!! I was absolutely blessed by the events of the last several days and how God has used them to set in stone in my heart the awe and wonder of God, and how He uses the church to bring about His Kingdom in the lives of those who love Him.

 

1. The Nicholsons and Wells watching our kids at a moments notice for my surgery

2. David Wright (a.k.a. “the rock”) coming to the hospital, hanging out with me and my Dad through the pre-op and surgery, and keeping my wife encouraged while I was under the knife.

3. You guys coming over to my house [Thursday] night, chatting for a while – seeing our family in action – and then praying for me.

3. Jason stepping up and doing a phenomenal job leading worship…probably the best he has done yet. I encountered God profoundly during worship as he led, even as I sat behind the sound board! (I was even compelled to come up to the front during “How He Loves us,” I absolutely HAD to come up!)

4. Many people in our church body coming to me yesterday, telling me they have been praying, and some of them taking time to pray – on the spot – right there before we left. Two of which were very profound: Meghan (Tyler’s wife) and Mama Olga! They prayed with power and authority, which commanded the Spirit of God to come upon me and gave me profound peace and sense of God’s love, healing, and provision.

 

I am both humbled, and absolutely proud, to be a part of our church. This body, and the provision of the Lord working through this body, is something that cannot be taken away. Experiences like this, and like you Dennis, rewarding my boys are absolutely irreplaceable. I cannot communicate enough how pleased I am to be in our church. God has truly blessed me and us, and I would not trade ANYTHING in this world for these type of experiences. This is what church, community, and the cause of Christ are all about. These are life-changing experiences, birthed and sustained by a Sovereign God, and executed through the Church in His Holy Love!

 

I love Christ’s church – this is my church! I will spend my life for His church!

 

Here’s a small indication of how the last six days or so have gone:

• We should receive the biopsy today of the nodule that was rooted into my husband’s abdominal wall.
• My mom is now home from the hospital, though she’s on oxygen 24/7, blood thinners, and clot-busting injections.

In more cheery news, when our pastor and his wife came over to pray for Martin on Thursday, I suggested to Grant and Ethan that they quote Psalm 103 for him.  They had memorized the whole chapter — all 22 verses — and I know that Scripture memorization is a high value for our pastor.  He was duly impressed.  The next day, he called to ask if the boys could stand in front of the congregation on Sunday and say it.  Ethan, my oldest, who typically avoids the limelight, was hesitant.  Grant, who does everything he can to stay IN the limelight, was all for it.  Ethan finally agreed, and they did it!

The only real hiccup was that their plan was to stand next to each other and nudge the other after 2-4 verses, to say, “Hey!  It’s your turn now.”  But, Pastor Dennis positioned himself between the two boys, disabling the nudging plan.  Grant started, and said eight verses, then Ethan did the next eight.  Both Ethan and I thought that Grant would then say three or four of the remaining six verses, but he ended up finishing it out.

At the end, Pastor Dennis surprised all of us by presenting each boy with $10.00!

I also thought it was really cool, because as I was praying for the boys just beforehand, outside, I spoke 1 Timothy 4:12 over them:

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity.

That morning, as Pastor Dennis spoke, his main text was 1 Timothy 4:13-16!

So… anyways… one doesn’t typically memorize Scripture to get paid, nor even to “show off” — but I’m glad that the boys were honored, and their accomplishment celebrated, and held up as an example, AND that they got ten bucks out of the deal!