this quiet hour

unless the lord builds the house

2014-08-21T11:35:00.000-04:00

the bookcase was on top of her, propped up partially by a chair it had fallen on. She was in the chair, a shelf over her neck, motionless. My husband had just left the room, and our youngest was asleep, and I had just run up to work for a couple hours.

When he heard the crash, he ran back into the room, lifted it off her, checked to see if she was fine. Thank God, she was—the bookcase she had decided to climb, to get her “favorite book” from the top shelf, was lightweight and had mostly dvds in the middle. She was a little shaken up, like we were, but fine. Not seriously injured or dead, like she could have been.

I’d seen those articles that float around facebook from time to time about securing your furniture to the wall, but I’d never done it. I always thought that since we’re pretty much with the girls 24/7, this would never happen. But it did. Despite all of our vigilance and care, she still got hurt.

Even after securing those shelves to the wall though, what other million things are there in a home, even a baby-proofed home, that a toddler can hurt or kill herself on? I’m a mom, so I can pretty much spot 100 things that can kill a baby in a room at a glance.

Not to mention the scary world outside the room, and the home—sometimes raising girls feels likes being the mother of Gretel or Red Riding Hood or Goldilocks—tender little things skipping through the dark, wolf and witch and monster ridden forest.

Last week, I was reading the Psalms and came across this chapter:

Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest
eating the bread of anxious toil;
for he gives to his beloved sleep.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior
are the children of one’s youth.
Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!
He shall not be put to shame
when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127

I’m familiar with that first verse in the second stanza—“children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward”—what mother hasn’t heard that, and tried to remember it when the kids are screaming and covered with crusty whats-it and sleep is little and disciplining the children is lots.

But I had never paid much mind to the first half of the poem. The first half can’t be divorced from the second though—good poets don’t arbitrarily pair stanzas together, they are meant to be read in relation to each other, and in the order they are written in. I don’t think it is too wild to interpret the first half in relation to the second—to see it as, also, about raising up children.

No matter how hard I work to raise up my kids, feed them good food, educate them, clothe them, play with them—unless God builds my house, I labor for nothing.

No matter how much I babyproof, no matter how many bookshelves I nail securely to the wall, unless the Lord watches over my house, I stay awake in vain.

No matter how much I work and worry, no matter how many hours I stay up late to get the floor mopped and breakfast prepped for the morning, no matter how many mornings I wake up at the crack of dawn to take care of the baby who loves to wake up before the sun, all of this is for nothing, it is vanity, unless I am resting in the Lord’s promises to take care of us.

“He gives to his beloved sleep” – what a promise! Of course God knows a promise involving sleep will woo any hard-headed parent of little ones.

Not only do I not have to worry that my children’s ultimate safety, well-being, education, health, etc, all depend on my performance, my intelligence, my self-sacrifice and mommy-awesomeness, God reminds us in the second stanza that we aren’t rewarded when our children are the best kids in the class or make it to adulthood perfect, we are rewarded by the fact that we have children.

They are the reward. We are living with that reward right now, spit-up stained shirts, messy-ponytails and all.

Free Music! The Lord's Prayer, by Bryan J. Emerson

2014-08-20T09:29:00.000-04:00

my husband, Bryan, just finished his demo of worship music based on the Lord's Prayer. To listen to it for free, click HERE

a feature and a review

2014-08-13T16:06:00.002-04:00

Neon Magazine was kind enough to review Keeping Me Still this week --

"These are accomplished poems, and their arrangement captures well the nature of loss. Not only that, but it manages to do so in a way that sets Keeping Me Still apart from the many existing chapbooks and poetry collections that speak of grief."

you can read the rest of the review :here:

_

A Literature Navigator also featured one of my recently published poems, The Wandering Witch, writing "It has a great sense of place and touch, something you often find in ancient Chinese poetry [ie even that translated by Pound and other Modernists]. It's quite lovely, but there's an edge to it, as sweetly hidden as a thin knife blade under a cloth hem."

i love that last metaphor.

This is my beloved and this is my friend (sol. 5:16)

2014-08-11T13:56:00.000-04:00

10 years ago, I met bryan, a college freshmen, 18 years old.
9.5 years ago, we started dating.
8 years ago, we got engaged and
7 years ago, we married,
in Arkansas, his home-church, on a blistering hot day in august. I went All In. for the first time, I was truly shepherded, protected, cared for like Jesus cares for the church. Taken out of the cheap plastic planter and pushed into deep, rich soil. Seven years in, I’ve never felt more grateful for bryan. Who humbly is the servant-leader of our family, who protects us, guides us. I am thankful that he chose me, and that he chooses me each and every day.

got to snatch up the good ones young--we were 19 in this picture!

How to Fall In Love with Reading

2014-08-02T20:42:00.002-04:00

I love to read. I love it more than writing. I’ve been at it longer and have had, you could say, better success with it.

My mom is a reader and took my sisters and me to the library often. We fed the ducks, sometimes went to storytime, but mostly browsed around the stacks while my mom picked out books for herself. I was encouraged to roam the library freely, step out of my age-group of books and pick up whatever I like. I read everything from X-men comics to how-to books, the psychology of dreams to Grimm’s fairytales.

I think that is mostly how you raise a child to love reading—let them see you reading, let them read freely. Take them to the library, read to them, have books all around your house. But not everyone grew up with that and sometimes people have to learn to love reading.

That’s ok—its not like gymnastics or long-distance running, you can really pick it up at any age and grow a wild passion for it quickly.

Some common misconceptions with reading are that it is only for nerds, that it is boring, that it is obsolete in our fast-paced technology saturated existence.

I am, yes, very much a nerd, but I know plenty of cool people, so cool that I don’t Personally know them but mostly know Of them, that read and even write. If you find the right book, reading it will not be boring. And reading is not only not only still relevant, it is even more necessary in our culture of ever-shortening attention spans and little value in the lasting.

I won’t go into the scientific data on the benefits of reading, though there is such data out there on how it benefits both mind and body (and, I’d argue, soul), but I will tell you this—a good book can be a passport, a mirror, your mother’s voice, your father’s ghost, it can take you far away and bring you further in.

When you read a book, whether fiction or nonfiction, you are taking part in the perspective and way of telling of another unique human being, a particular perspective never before or never since offered again. It is never too late to take part of this—and I hope you will.

How To Take A Book In Hand:

1. Find a Book Through Recommendations
Start by asking friends/family/the world at large (Facebook. Twitter.) what was the most influential or best book that they’ve ever read. You might not get a great many replies, but it is a way to get you started. Try out some of these suggestions. If you don’t know any readers, sign up for sites like Goodreads or Librarything. There are user-created best-of lists for many genres, and also reading groups that could recommend books for you. If all else fails, check out school reading lists—there are often more than a few gems to be found there.

2. Find a Book Through Browsing the Stacks
What I love most about libraries is the joy of discovery (and that they are free. And interlibrary loan
too, marvelous.). Most libraries have popular new books near the front center, the circulation desk. My local library has it divided up into genres. I drive my daughter crazy with my last minute browsing in the check-out aisle! So if you aren’t sure what you want to read or what you would like reading, start there. Pick up anything that slightly catches your attention—whether it’s the cover, a well-known author, the topic, the clever title. Libraries are FREE—there’s no risk here, unless you lose the books and rack up a fine.

And, if you grow braver, venture out into the stacks. I feel like a kid in a candy store when I’m in the stacks. Perhaps, adventurous reader, start with a topic you are interested in (let’s say you are a mom—maybe you are interested in parenting books. Maybe you love decorating—check out the design section). Once you are in that section, you can experience the great value of a library—being able to find books you would have never been recommended or known to look for and being able to try that book out for free.

3. Don’t Waste Time on Books You Hate
If you hate a book by the end of the first chapter, don’t finish it. There’s nothing wrong with not finishing a book if you don’t like it—this isn’t school, no one is requiring you to read this. Not to say that there aren’t a great many books that are fantastic once you get past the first chapter—there are!—but if you are just starting out with learning to love reading, don’t force yourself to slog through a book just because you checked it out from the library or a cute girl you like recommended it to you. Put it down—there are plenty other books in the sea.

4. Be Fearless
This is no time for timidity—if you want to read a book about rocket science, go for it. If you want to read poems by Jewel, no judgment here. You are ultimately the one sitting down with the book—it doesn’t have to be a book that people would expect you to read. This isn’t about impressing people—its about enriching your own mind. So read what you want to read—read widely and boldly.

As you see, learning to love reading is not a difficult skill to accomplish. And you’ll find that the more that you read, the more you develop your taste in books and the faster your reading becomes. Happy reading!

“It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it.”

- Oscar Wilde

grateful for

2014-07-29T08:53:00.001-04:00

green tea with wildflower honey and milk, chubby dimpled legs, a morning spent outdoors, a good talk with a couple we’d never met, dancing-spinning toddler-wild, hazelnut peanut butter on oatmeal bread, gap-tooth baby smile, clean cool water, honey-apple baby lotion, the interlibrary loan system, the spent-feeling of a long workout, conversations with my husband of our hopes and our dreams, coordinated nap and bedtimes, a shower at the end of a long day, gray foxes eating the catfood at the garage door, painting her tiny fingernails and letting her paint mine, finding just-the-book at the local library, hand me down tutus, my husband home before midnight in his summer workschedule, neat-stacked piles of fresh laundry, the everyday of it and the every single day of it.

book notes: july

2014-07-26T12:22:00.002-04:00

The Fit-Bottomed Girls Anti-Diet by Jennifer Walters and Erin Whitehead
i decided to request this book for review because this year i have been working on a healthier lifestyle for me and my family. we are more active, eat fresher foods and less dessert, and its made a difference--i lost the babyweight a little faster than last time with less working out, and then five pounds more (30lbs lost since December!). i feel like i have more energy and can keep up with the kids (and carry the kids!) better. but i do want to continue to lose a little bit more, and i was curious to see if this book had any additional tips for living healthy that i hadn't thought or read of before. i was not disappointed!

i loved how easy to read this book was--it was broken down into steps in each chapter, followed by 10 suggestions on how to immediately implement what you learned. And what do you learn? how to create a healthy Lifestyle. The first half of the book was most useful for me--it gives tips on how to be more active in your everyday life, find exercise you Enjoy doing, find healthy foods that you enjoy and make you feel good. It was full of helpful tips like if you feel snacky, try doing something active for ten minutes before eating. The second half focused primarily on the mental/emotional side of things--how to feel good in your own skin, not strive for perfectionism, stay motivated. my only criticism is that the tone was a little cheesy in a you-go-girl way.

i would highly recommend this book to anyone who is sick of fad diets and wants to focus on becoming healthy even if becoming thin takes a long time.

(I received this book for free from Blogging for Books for this review.)

The Foundling Wheel by Blas Falconer
Falconer writes about his family in a tender and genuine way. its rare to see a male poet focusing so much of his book on his children, so i found this book refreshing and i highly recommend it.

How to Cook a Wolf by M.F.K. Fisher
written during WWII and updated during the cold war, this book is part cookbook, part social commentary, part letter from an odd aunt. While much of the frugal advice is of the period, the wry tone of her writing is delightful—I think if she wrote a book about combustion engines or various types of grass or the migratory patterns of ducks, I’d read it. [ Yes, fisher, I will hunt down more of your books!]. I haven’t tried any of her recipes—yet—but its not really about the recipes so much as it is about a way of thinking about food and cooking. I highly recommend this book—interlibrary loan it or buy it straightaway!

Caribou by Charles Wright
my main thoughts on this book—“more poems by Charles wright.” Either you like his style or don’t—if you don’t, pass on this one. if you do, it is more of the same that he has always written.

Found In Him: The Joy of the Incarnation and Our Union with Christ by Elyse Fitzpatrick
I generally like all of Elyse Fitzpatrick’s books—I’ve read four so far—and this is my second favorite of hers. Mostly a theology book—not the self-help type of Christian books, but a real decent theology book—the first half takes an in-depth look at the incarnation and the second half is about how the incarnation affects our lives. Though this wasn’t a light read, I highly recommend it. here’s one of my favorite quotes, from the last chapter:

“the more you focus on how loved you are and how everything you need has already been given to you, the more peace, rest, and love you’ll experience. as his truth comforts and assures you, you’ll find that you don’t have to fight or worry or envy anymore. You can rest, and in that rest you will find a sweetness growing your soul that will delight and nourish those around you.”

on not selling books, not a single one

2014-07-22T08:50:00.003-04:00

last Saturday i participated in a local author event at the local barnes and noble. a dozen of us, each with our little black wooden tables, plastic book props, and stacks of books were scattered around the store. i was the only poet. i didn’t sell a single book.

possibly this was because I was in the back of the store not the front or by the coffee shop, but what is more likely is that my book is a poetry book and most people give poetry a wide berth.

at the signing, still smiling!

before publishing my book, my goal was publishing the book—sort of like the giddy bride planning all the flowers and dresses and colors upon colors—but then once the book was out, That was when real life kicked in, the Marriage.

And since entering into life-with-my-book, i’ve seen more and more that no matter how good your book is, poetry has a small, particular audience, so you have to sift, and search, and find them.

it’s a little more work to convince someone to pick up a book of poems, strange things they don’t think they’ll understand or relate to, rather than to convince them to pick up a novel or memoir, a straightforward story like they are used to.

it can be discouraging—some days I think why did I write this thing that no one wants to read—but that is when I remind myself of the value of a small life, the value of offering creative work to the world, even if the readers are few.

and i know, too, that my editor and press and other "winter geese" completely support and believe in me--i'm grateful to be part of that little literary community and to know that my work was plucked out of the stacks and stacks of submissions, and my editor thought, yes, this book is worth the time. even when not a single book sells at a certain signing.

i’d be lying if i didn’t say i was a little bit bummed about not selling any books; though i’d not expected to sell more than one or two, i had very much hoped to sell at least one. and the pitying eyes of other authors and the event coordinator, oh my.

but i would (and will) go again. it was nice to chat with other authors, particularly others who have published with small presses and know the same benefits and hurdles of doing so. i feel better connected to our small literary community and like i “raised awareness” of my book.

big book stores are perhaps not where the poets ARE--and when scheduling future events, i'd likely do well to focus on indie stores, universities, coffee shops, you get the idea--but how can i complain about a couple of hours spent sipping free coffee in a bookstore, talking to writers about writing? that is a couple hours well spent.

miscellany: vol. 19

2014-07-18T12:36:00.002-04:00

summer is almost over; though we have several weeks left, some of those weeks will be spent in preparations and looking-forwards-to so that they feel like “pre-fall” rather than “end-of-summer” as they truly are.

This summer I didn’t do much by ways of craft projects (aside from rearranging the furniture and clearing out junk we don’t need) or yard projects (bryan built the kid’s playhouse and swingset though) or even very much writing (or submitting my writing…sigh).

I did teach a bit online to help finish up paying off our debt—we’ll be debt-free by the end of the year if we keep up our frugalness! Goodbye student loans! I lost all the rest of the babyweight + 5lbs more. we traveled quite a bit—seeing family and some friends—and have one more trip planned before the summer is out.

but I told myself at the beginning of the summer that this was NOT going to be a to-do list summer—I was going to take things as they came, do what I could, not live by the striving for unattainable goals. And I did just that and don’t regret it a bit. I could have possibly done more—maybe—but I don’t know if I would have enjoyed this summer as much as I have living a little bit more carefree, a little bit more relaxed into the ease and grace of God’s love.

the notebook:
I’m auditing a poetry coop class on prose poetry right now, and I’m reading reading reading, while I still have time for reading. I’ve been writing a bit more the past few weeks then I did earlier this summer, but I’m not thrilled with my work. I think much of this has to do with the fact that my extended family is going through some Stuff and I feel too emotional about it to write good poetry. The average person might think poets are just spilling over with emotion all the time and that’s where poetry comes from—it doesn’t for me. I clam up, often as not. So there’s been a few little guarded poems and a few poems I wouldn’t want many people to read (the “to be burnt” pile). I suspect I’ll get back into a writing rhythm (and submitting rhythm—haven’t sent poems out in Months!) once the fall comes.

the hubs:
bryan is making music, lots and lots of music (good music! and I’m pretty snobby about music). we wrote 1 song together this summer and want to write more. he finished his collection of songs that were inspired by the lord’s prayer. So now he’s working on recording them from home (I’ll share them here when they’re out).

he’s nervous about it—putting his music Out There—but I keep telling him what I was told when I was nervous about putting my poetry out there—artwork is a gift, and it glorifies God to share it with the world.

oh hum, how does this work with what I said just now about my own work…. Do I contradict myself? so I contradict myself.

the little one:
at the end of august I plan on starting some “pre-school” K3 with zu. I have no idea at all what I’m doing—I was never homeschooled and didn’t know homeschoolers growing up. BUT I surely know the stuff she needs to learn (I’ve got the alphabet DOWN!), so we’re going to give it a shot.

I made her a little “school” area in the corner of the playroom—makeshift desk, chair, her own
bookshelf blockaded from june’s gleeful destruction. I’m doing a program I read on a mom blog that I found through pinterest. This is probably sketch and not the best homeschooling material out there, but I figure that since preschool is optional anyway, anything I teach her counts.

In addition to that, I’m thinking of buying a jesus storybook bible study guide or making one up myself (on the list of goals this mom uses, I added a “faith” section, where we’ll study the JSB, short memory verses, and learning to pray)

Ok—readers, you may now leave all of your homeschooling advice in the comments area, thank you!

the littlest:
june has left the colicky throws of infant-hood behind and fully thrown herself into small-toddler(ness?). I. love. It.

toddlers are my favorite. My very favorite. (so far). I love the things they say when they start to say them (No-No, mama! When I was wiping her face. tickle tickle when she wants to get our bellies. Bay-bee, bay-bee when she’s playing with baby beluga). I love their awkward funny walks. I love that they still have a little bit of baby-fatness (or a lot a bit in june’s case).

Oh and june cuddles! Zu hated cuddling at this age, would fight tooth and nail to be down and going going going, but june, oh june, she runs up to me and buries her face on my chest and nestles and sighs. Zu is leaving the toddler stage for full-out being a Kid (or maybe she is already? She doesn’t hardly toddle any more. she goes potty by herself, brushes her teeth by herself. Hm.)

Anyway, you should see our dance parties some time. it is very squealy over here.

Thought for the week:

“Balance the Day, not each meal in a day”

- MFK Fisher, How To Cook a Wolf

The Surprising Secrets of Highly Happy Marriages by Shaunti FeldHahn (a review)

2014-07-12T12:32:00.000-04:00

Shaunti Feldhahn is a Christian social researcher who has specifically studied marriage. I’ve never read any of her other books (For Women Only) but I want to after reading this book. She takes results of a study she did on highly happy, happy, and struggling couples, gleaning the habits that she found most prevalent in the highly happy couples and less in the happy couples and even less in the so-so couples.

Reading through the habits, I found that some of them bryan and I practice regularly (like being thankful for each other) but some habits I had never thought about as being important to him—when I mentioned them to him though, he said yes, certainly, please do those! One of which was praising him in public—I always try to be very encouraging to him, but I’ve never thought about going out of my way to praise him publicly.

Much of the habits had to do with attitudes and your own thoughts. The main idea of the book is that you should not aim to change your spouse, but to SERVE your spouse, like Christ does the church. One of my favorite habits that I learned from this book was to always believe the best about your spouse. When I’m upset about something, I tend to get in the poor-me way of thinking, believing bryan is out to get me, while in all actuality he LOVES me and wants the best for me! Changing my attitude before I allow myself to get really riled up about something has already made our happy marriage more highly happy the past couple of weeks, and it has nipped a lot of arguments in the bud.

Though this book can help make a happy marriage happier, I don’t know if I would recommend it for a truly struggling marriage or one that is dealing with major issues (like abuse or addiction). Most of these tips have to do with your own attitude, your own appreciation of your spouse, and the Christian principles of treating your spouse like Christ treats his church.

Feldhahn is a Christian and outspoken about her faith, but the book is written not only to a Christian audience. She backs up her “habits” with survey results, personal interviews with highly happy couples, and scripture. Some of the habits would not be applicable to a nonchristian couple (like keeping God first in your marriage!), but for the most part I think that any couple, whether they have been married twenty years or just got engaged, could benefit from reading this book.

(I received this book for free from Blogging for Books for this review.)

the larger poem

2014-07-11T11:26:00.001-04:00

Over the past six months, I’ve been thinking on a theme for my next book. Keeping Me Still was constructed in the way of most first collections of poetry—I took my best poems, found the common threads, and wove it together into the whole, the “larger poem” (the entire book as a poem in itself).

I’ve played around with different ideas—a book about the funeral home director’s daughter (I’ve written several poems on her), a book about Sarah and Abraham, one on Anne Bradstreet, one where every poem is derived from a title of a hymn. nothing has stuck. Though I love the idea of approaching the book in the manner of a novelist—writing it as a whole, on a common subject—I don’t seem to work that way.

I’ve read so many collections that I love that Do work that way—Thomas and Beulah by Rita Dove, Lawrence Booth’s Book of Visions by Maurice Manning—and I have always had this secret longing to be a novelist.

So I’m wondering now if it is that my writing process—so sporadic, rushed, squeezed into my life as a wife and mother and teacher—doesn’t work with that kind of book and that I should just abandon thinking along those lines, or if it is that I haven’t found the right topic yet.

Either way, a poetry book is written poem-by-poem. I’m not sure if it truly matters for me to have a “topic” and theme for the next book chosen before the next time to sit down to write, or if I choose it a year from now, looking at the (hopefully by then) dozen or so poems I’ve written since Keeping Me Still.

What are your thoughts, dear readers, on thematic poetry books verses “mixed tape” poetry books? Which do you prefer reading, if you do read poetry?

Excerpt from a letter from Beatrice, a friend of my Mawmaw’s

2014-07-07T12:46:00.001-04:00

I lived right next door to your grandmother and grandfather, Sudie and Dutch, on Geurney in Memphis, we were young then and loved being neighbors. I have many happy memories of them and the children. Especially do I recall Martha Sue and her great taste for BLTs. . .
I quickly recognized your grandmother’s squirrel brooch in Rachel Sets Up House. I see in your work—family—so many phases—real pictures, real people, real happenings. Keep up your talent. The world today (in my late life) needs less TV, film, “excitement” (trash). More peaceful memories. Have I said too much? Bear in mind I’m 95 and I still love to write and read—thank you God!

Thank you again,

Mrs. Beatrice Hill

***

book notes: june

2014-06-30T17:04:00.000-04:00

Love Idol by Jennifer Dukes Lee

"Since Jesus has already won, we are free to fail. Since Jesus was a somebody, we can be nobodies. " Though Lee is quoting another author in that moment of the book, that message is, in a nutshell, what her book is about. Lee points the reader to God’s approval rather than the world’s – a reminder I needed, as a chronic perfectionist. This book reminded me of another book I read earlier this year-- Grace for the Good Girl by Emily P. Freeman. Love Idol, however hit closer to home for me—while Grace for the Good Girl was focused more on women who people please to fit in, Love Idol is focused on women who are perfectionists, strive for accomplishment, want to stand out. The root sin is the same, but the personality type is different. So, I highly recommend this book if you are one of those latter types, like me.

Time and Materials by Robert Hass
I’ve never been a huge Robert Hass reader, but I’ve enjoyed this book fairly well. The poems are lyric mostly, and the longer poems were my favorites. The collection was a best-of for those years rather than a cohesive book, so I did miss some of that interplay between poems that you'd find in other collections.

Scrap Iron by Mark J. Brewin
my favorite poems in this book were the ones about his father, a blue-collar worker. They were relatable and loving but clear-sighted. more on the narrative side than the lyric, i enjoyed being enveloped in this worker's world, though from the outside a bit since most of his narratives of the hard work are of watching his father. his work reminded me of Philip Levine, who i also like.

I Quit Sugar by Sarah Wilson
I asked to review this book because I thought it was an eight-week program on quitting desserts, but this book takes it much further than that—no fruit! I don’t think it’s a good idea to not eat fruit, so I decided not to try the sugar-detox or the recipes (much to my husband’s joy!).

BUT, that said, I think the book would work well with paleo or a gluten-free diet, and I have a friend who I think would like it. the pictures and graphic design are eye-catching and the book is easy to read—laid out in a magazine style. (you can read chapter one here: Read Chapter One)

the author keeps in mind the most difficult aspects of going sugar-free -- handling kid's meals, breakfast, and snacks--and tailors her book and recipes around that.

I would highly recommend this book to anyone who is pursuing a healthy, clean-eating lifestyle or has special dietary needs. As for me and my house, we will continue to gobble strawberries and blueberries and apples faster than the grow.

(I received this book for free from Blogging for Books for this review )

one

2014-06-25T13:15:00.000-04:00

yesterday i was sitting out on the back porch of my parents house with you. you wanted to walk off the side of the porch--confidently moved your thick, awkward baby legs to the edge and stepped off every time. i held your arms, pulled you back. most of the time it made you angry--you sat down and let out an ear-piercing squeal. you "planked", stiffening your little body on the weathered boards of the deck, letting me know just how displeased you were with me.

i learned at your church dedication that your name together could mean "vibrant warrior" and though we named you for the melody of your name, i think that it fits. you are my feisty, strong-willed child, sure of what you want, confidently jumping in head first where your sister would always use caution.

and when i compare the both of you--since sisters are always inevitably compared--know that it isn't comparing in a better-than-the-other but rather admiring the beautiful differences i see already in my two little girls--the individual artwork of your souls. it is true, yes, that your sister made me into a mother--no small feat!--but you, junie maroonie, have remade me into a mother again, and i don't take those changes lightly.

i thank God for you everyday, and for what he teaches me through you about His love for us. if my imperfect, human love for you can feel so big sometimes that i feel i could burst from it, how much more does He love us. i want to teach you how much you are loved.

thank you my sweet second born for a beautiful first year--it was sometimes very hard but it was always very good. what an exciting thing to await us--another year of june.

everything

2014-06-24T11:00:00.004-04:00

"that june morning was when jesus plus nothing equals everything--the gospel--became for me more than a theological passion, more than a cognitive catch-phrase. it became my functional lifeline. Rediscovering the gospel enabled me to see that:

because Jesus was strong for me, I was free to be weak

because Jesus won for me, I was free to lose

because Jesus was someone, I was free to be no one

because Jesus was extraordinary, I was free to be ordinary

because Jesus succeeded for me, I was free to fail."

- Tullian Tchividjian

two new poems at Tinderbox

2014-06-23T08:07:00.002-04:00

the new literary journal, Tinderbox Poetry, has just released its first issue! Along with poets such as Kelli Russell Agodon, D.A. Powell, Amy Gerstler and many others, I have two poems in it--The Wandering Witch and Kikimora Looks For Love. Both poems were written in a Rooster Moans Poetry online class that I took last year, on Fairytale poetry.

Kikimora Looks for Love is a humorous look at the slavic myth of the female house spirit, Kikke Morko, who lives behind the stove or cellar and generally causes harmless mischief.

The Wandering Witch was inspired by a Ray Bradbury short story from his collection October Country. each short story in the book features a closer look at a member of this mystical family, and Cecy can move her soul from creature to creature, inhabiting other bodies, when she sleeps. Cecy is a kind, seventeen-year-old girl, who only inhabits creatures because she wants to feel what it is to fall in love.

in both poems i wanted to take the angle of looking at misunderstood women.

A A A A A A A A A A (A+)

2014-06-17T23:10:00.000-04:00

1 one year old
1 two year old
1 packnplay
1 guitar
5 books (because sure i'll read that many on our trip?)
a change of clothes for each day (bryan and me)
3x changes of clothes for each day (susan and june)
untold numbers of ziplock-baggies filled to brim with veggie-straws

and room to spare (hello box-of-stuff to take to my friend so we can exchange boxes-of-stuff we don't want like we always do! its like a hand me down christmas). i survey the car, proud and approving of my husband's compact-car-defying tetris-skill abilities and think we can put off buying a mini-van until kid#3. each cubby and nook is crammed full of snacks, ba-bas (for when june won't take a sippy--most of the time), sippies (for when we're hopeful), hand sanitizer, sunglasses (our girls are particular about sunglasses).

then we hit the road. an eight hour trip we made longer by meandering and visiting friends along the way. our niece was dedicated this weekend, so we drove up to kentucky/nearly/ohio to see her all bedecked and blessed. we hadn't visited that part of our family in that new house yet, and i was completely taken with the beautiful rolling hills-become-mountains, the isolated fields, the white-postcard-perfect church steeple.

staying with three different families, all of which have two young children each, i was intrigued by every moms different way of doing things, different ways of adding artfully to her home. i get so many ideas from other moms. C taught me this little trick of making arguing girls giveaway a toy to goodwill when the fights get ugly (tucking that in my back pocket for when both girls start talking--and inevitably fighting...), and none of them blinked at june's banshee-like shrieks of anger (or happiness--she's just always loud), and none of them seemed too put out by my children waking up obscenely early, as they always do.

being a good hostess is an area i've been working to improve on the past couple of years. hosting home-group at our house did a lot to change my anti-social ways, but i still struggle with feeling like everything has to be absolutely PERFECT to have people over. what's funny is, i know that my friends and family don't expect my house to be perfect or mind when it isn't.

one of my friends we stayed with has a beautifully organized home, and another had a beautifully blossoming garden, and another french-braided and painted toddler fingernails like a pro.

that firstborn daughter in me wants Straight A's--to do it all--when, as a regular old human creature, that isn't possible. i will likely never be able to make a quiche before i've had coffee--or even talk to you, sorry. i don't know if my thrifting abilities will ever max out my daughter's closets with princess dresses. but there are a few things i'm good at as a mom--tent-building for example. i make crazy-awesome pillow-fort-tents.

but the point in seeing and admiring each other mom's particular art of motherhood is to humbly learn from them and to live in community with them. mothering, being a wife, living--its an art, and there is room enough for different kinds of art, even for my C+ cooking skills and B french-braiding skills.

an introvert, i still see how community with other believers is as life-giving and soul-nurturing as time alone, as the stolen minutes i have right now, settled on my own particular spot of our den, not our office where i'm supposed to do my best thinking.

tomorrow i'll do my own particular work of settling us back into routine--unpacking and washing rumpled clothes, ironing out home-is-boring attitudes, building elaborate, knotted at the corners, butterfly-patterned and pink-plaid. and if you'd like to stop by, i can teach you too.

an interview with Antler

2014-06-12T12:37:00.000-04:00

Antler, the blog of author Dave Harrity (Making Manifest), posted an interview with me today! I share revision tips, a poem, hopes, dreams and more!

when you picture someone reading your poetry, how do you see them? what do they think about, wear, and do? or, maybe a better way to say it: who do you write for? and how do you see your writing nourishing others?

I picture my great-great-great granddaughter coming upon my dusty, well-worn poetry book in a box in the attic. Taking it down and thumbing through it while the babies are napping. Smudging it with greasy fingers because she’s reading while cooking dinner. Reading it as she would a diary or a long letter. I know it is a little romantic for this to be my ideal reader, her hair in a loose ponytail and wearing yesterday’s T-shirt, but she’s there behind every poem I write—this future daughter, who will never know me, reading my work and connecting with me through that long echo. I hope to write something worth telling her.

You can read the rest HERE

unmade

2014-06-11T07:41:00.001-04:00

What do you need, baby? I asked her, running my hand over her clammy forehead and off into her blonde, fine hair. in daylight hours, she would protest my calling her “baby” with an “I’m no baby, I’m a big girl, mommy”. But she was too tired and too sick to mind.

I need you. eyes still closed, head turned to the side. she looks small, curled in her twin-sized bed, a nest of stuffed animals and pillows crowded around her.

A few hours earlier, she had told me her tummy hurt and threw up in the hallway, on the way to the potty. I scooped up her newly-toddling baby sister and plopped her in her crib. June howled angrily, unfairly forbidden from the fun of sinking her hands into the Vomit–Clean-Up. zu cried as I wiped her down with a washcloth, rinsed the chunks from her hair, vacuumed and scrubbed the carpet.

It was one of those evenings that makes me miss Tennessee. Where is my mom, my mother in law? I could’ve used a grandma about then, with my husband working nights and all my nearby friends with toddlers of their own (and newborns too, now).

Sometimes it feels lonely to live in a town you didn’t grow up in. rootless.

I’ve found myself talking lately about going home. What it would take to get us there, what it would cost. Not that I don’t love so much of what there is here—this town where my second daughter was born, with its double-tongued rivers and commonplace mountains.

I don’t know if we’ll ever leave or if that is really what I would want. But I don’t have what my husband has—that rock-steady, solid, dependable heart. On good days I call what I have a sense of adventure; on bad, a born and bred discontentment. I’ve never felt like there was anything so good in one place to live that I couldn’t cultivate in another.

besides family, I tell bryan. But he points to our babies and mouths family, right there, family

I need you. not her grandmothers, as much as she loves them. Not a new state, a new city, the woods I wandered in when I was younger. Just me. How terrifying.

Nearly everyday, I pray that God will make me a good mother. I don’t want to take her entire childhood to get it right—for her to be grown before I know how to do this. The daily reminders of my insufficiency. Like when I lose my temper from the something-th poo-poo accident she’d had that day. when I don’t feel like playing hello-kitty dolls with her. When I’d rather eat the last strawberries myself, so juicy and red and sweet.

The lie I want to believe is that the Other Moms have it figured out in a way that I never will. That if I could only live near family or work less or do more pinterest crafts with the kids gathered around me into a photographic moment, I could really do this. I could be a really good mom.

Zu is sleeping deeply now, too heavily to notice when I stand up. across the room, june lays on her back in her crib, arms spread above her like she fought sleep on the very edge of dreamland. The meaning of her full name: young and vibrant warrior woman.

I’ll go to sleep too, in the half-empty bed, perpetually unmade, knowing he’ll be home soon. Because the day starts early, and I start it with two little girls who want their first touch of every morning to be a hug from their mother, half-awake, wild-haired, rumpled and perpetually unmade.

Sleeping With You by Ellen Bass

2014-06-05T17:56:00.000-04:00

Is there anything more wonderful?
After we have floundered
through our separate pain

we come to this. I bind myself to you,
like otters wrapped in kelp, so the current
will not steal us as we sleep.

Through the night we turn together,
rocked in the shallow surf,
pebbles polished by the sea.

a million little ways by emily p. freeman (a book review)

2014-05-27T12:19:00.002-04:00

“Pursuing desire is only toxic when we demand our desires be satisfied on our terms and in our timing. As recipients of the new heart of the Spirit, our deepest desire, when honestly realized, will always lead us to God”

I have wrestled, questioned, picked apart this book. it convicted me, shocked me. Finally, inspired me. It changed how I feel and think about my work as a poet.

A MillionLittle Ways by Emily P. Freeman is about discovering how God made you, as a son or daughter, to reflect his glory.

For the past several years, I have relegated my poetry to a guilty-pleasure, squeezed in during the odd moments here and there in the week. I have been suspicious of my desire to write—thinking of it as an exercise of the ego, a selfish indulgence, a distraction from my true purpose in life, to be a wife and mother. I didn’t want to give it the time of day, literally. I have taken pride in my sacrifice—putting my writing on hold, while tending to better things.

I wouldn’t have told you this, or confessed to it if you’d asked me. I would have told you the right answer – that writing is how I worship, that writing is how I express what I see in the world. I was raised southern Baptist, and if there’s anything a southern Baptist girl knows, it’s the right answers.

Sometimes I believed those answers—in the middle of writing a poem, the images connecting to each other in unexpected ways, the pleasure in a slant rhyme, the metaphor that exactly captures that fleeting moment and emotion. Maybe, maybe, God can show his glory through not just one way, not just seminary-approved ways or easily categorized ways or immediately visible ways—maybe he can show his glory through a million little ways. Through cooking dinner for hurting friends, reading a bedtime story to my daughter, sending a student an encouraging email, and, yes, writing a poem.

“why do we so often assume that pursuing those things we want to pursue can only be done at the expense of our responsibilities? Why can’t we recognize and embrace the connection between the kind of art we want to make and the reality of our truest identity?

What if you desire to do a particular thing because God created you a particular way, not to tease you or make you miserable, but to actually mold you into becoming more like him,

for his glory and the benefit of others?”

A Million Little Ways taught me that the desires of a heart made flesh—a heart changed through God’s grace—are not evil desires, if they do not conflict with who God is. Freeman speaks to the challenges of the artist—and, in the term artist, she includes mothers, scientists, doctors, the cashier at the local Walmart—anyone fully alive in the task they are completing.

She urges her readers to find a still, quiet place, search back, find what it is that makes them who they are, that most reflects God’s glory. To step out in courage to pursue their particular art, not to the detriment of daily responsibilities or of season in life, but in the daily rhythms. Taking criticism as a reminder of our humanity, and the poison of competition as a signal to step back from your art.

With my book coming out, the question I’ve come to dread is “so when are you going to write a novel?” which really means when will you write something that will make money? That will earn reputation? That people will want to read?

It is hard to feel like my work has purpose sometimes. I feel like it’s a daffodil choking in pinestraw-shade, sometimes. my season in life doesn’t afford much time to write, but when I don’t value my deep, inmost – God woven—desire to write, there is that much less time to do it. There is guilt with it, suspicion, confusion, rather than embracing who God made me to be from when I was in my mother’s womb.

I wasn’t made to be a chicklit vampire novelist. Or a computer programmer, or high school teacher. When I embrace my true design, my truest identity in Christ, it shows God’s glory. It might not be to many readers; I may never influence hundreds or hold a high position. But I trust that God will use the meager, small art I offer—seldom read poetry—to show his glory, even if it is to one person, once.

I hope that you will read this book—whether you already consider yourself an artist or you have never considered that you have anything to offer.

“The upside-down mystery of God is that you can still be a miracle gift even when you have no idea where your giftedness comes from, even when all you can bear to do is know you are loved and live like it’s true. You are art and you make art, but you are not your art. You are God’s art.”

(no compensation or free book was received for this review--though i would very much like to own a copy of this book, since i just interlibrary-loaned it, as i do most books. i read it twice before returning it.)

interview on Balancing the Tide

2014-05-14T21:28:00.004-04:00

Balancing the Tide, one of my favorite interview websites that features interviews from mothers who are artists and writers, posted an interview with me today!

"Tell us about your relationship to your art.

I wanted to write fiction when I was a little girl, but in college I began reading modern poetry and was lured away. . . "

You can read the rest here

stranded!

2014-05-12T10:03:00.001-04:00

june is napping in the pack-n-play at a quality inn off of the highway in mid-tennessee. her legs and arms are curled up under her and her little heart-printed skirted booty is in the air. we're waiting for my dad to come pick us up -- or "rescue renee and baby june!", as he likes to put it.

last night i pulled onto the bypass and felt a tremor in the car. it faded away so we thought it was the road, but going over a bridge, the car lurched side to side and i started to lose control. luckily the road was empty and i was able to pull to the median before the tire flew off, across the opposite lane of traffic, over the guard-rail and down into a valley.

i got june out of the car right away--i had visions of a passing truck slamming into us, since we were only barely off the road when the tire flew off--and stood in the patchy weeds and grass. june had been sleeping and was confused and grumpy. the sun was setting, but it wasn't quite dark yet. i swatted mosquitos away from june's fat baby arms and legs, and used my fingers to comb her long hair from her eyes.

twenty minutes later, the sheriff arrived. he was nicer than i expected a sheriff to be, said that it had happened to him before, went with a flashlight into the valley to search for the tire (no luck). bryan called roadside assistance and i talked with the sheriff about his daughters (six years old and ten) and my daughters. an hour or so later the tow truck guy came, and they loaded up our ridiculous amount of bags--sure, bring the guitar, why not, we have room, i'd said that morning--and drove us to the nearest hotel.

so, someone dropped you off...? the night manager asked, eying the sheriff's SUV pulling away. the police, bryan said, leaving it at that. i filled in with our story, and the night manager--pale, overweight, balding, like all night managers are--told us a story about a girlfriend in san diego driving round sharp bends in the road and letting go of the wheel and it almost happening to them once too. he gave us the senior citizen discount, feeling sorry i guess for us, with our wailing baby and sweaty faces and too many bags.

june was wild from the adventure and stayed up crazily dancing and babbling late last night, so i'm not surprised she's taking a good nap right now. my dad should be here soon, and bryan will likely have the car taken care of by the afternoon or morning.

though it was an expensive and irritating detour from our travel plan for the week, i'm thankful that the tire fell off where it did--no cars around, no flipping the vehicle, no wreck or danger to baby june--, that the sheriff was so kind to us, that it happened when it wasn't raining or cold or the middle of the night, that zu was with my parents so we didn't have both girls with us, that we're not too far from precious friends to call if we need help, that my generous in-laws helped us pay for the hotel, that my generous father is coming to get me and baby june so we don't have to keep her in that hotel all day.

the past couple of days, before all this happened, i had been thinking about how beautiful this season of life is right now. i feel like i'm in the middle of spring, all the buds are flowering, or i'm in the middle of a harvest. the pessimist in me wondered if this was the before to an after--that something would happen that would forever change and darken any happinesses that came after that, that i would never look back on my life and feel as happy as i did at that moment. i have seen those things happen to people, those kinds of losses.

i am so thankful that last night was not one of them; just a minor disappointment, a set-back, an inconvenience. not the loss of anything precious or irreplaceable. how can i not praise God for that, when those who are worth the most to me could have been taken away as easy as that?

But I will sing of your strength; I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been to me a fortress and a refuge in the day of my distress. Psalm 59:16

laundry day

2014-05-08T13:43:00.002-04:00

Zu and I washed and hung to dry her doll’s clothes one day last week. She had fun scrubbing them, playing in the water, and mostly using the clothespins to hang them to dry. “we can’t let it rain on my laundry!” she says, when I told her a few hours later that it looked like it might storm.

The Big Poetry Giveaway Winners!

2014-05-02T20:36:00.002-04:00

the winners of the giveaway are....

#5 Katrina! She wins a copy of my new book, Keeping Me Still!

and

#11 Lynn Pederson! She wins a copy of Mary Biddinger's Prairie Fever!

Thank you everyone who entered!