My friend who was in the hospital awaiting her babe's arrival (in hopes of it being a safe one) has given birth to a baby girl. Phew! One worry down, only a million to go (but two specific ones for this week).
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...la la la la la.....
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
fruitcake
sleeping with bread
So, tonight was the night that we took all of the kids Christmas shopping. Several years ago, after getting sick of wading through the piles of dollar store toys which the children purchased for each other every year, we got the bright idea of having them draw names. That way, each child only feels responsible for getting one of their siblings a present. Kids like it because it means they get a better present. Moms and Dads like it because it means less stuff to find a place for after the big day passes.
Making a trip to the store that includes everyone can be quite the experience. I was not looking forward to doing it during the Christmas rush. Amazingly, it turned out well for two major reasons – older kids and cell phones.
As we were driving home in the car, I began pondering which bread I wanted to use as my pillow this evening. A food network special solved this question for me – of course, it has to be fruitcake. Logically then, I simply must speak about connection. Okay, so maybe it isn’t a logical progression to the average soul, but I never claimed to be average.
Connection. While wandering the aisles of the store without children (again, thank you cell phones), I felt a very sure sense of connection. My husband and I got to spend some very rare weekday time together with each other – laughing at some items, frowning at others. One particular wall clock which was designed like a seat cushion gave us quite a few minutes of enjoyment. But, not only did I feel connected to him, I felt a very strong bond with my children who were in other aisles of the store. The little waves of hello when we happened to cross paths brought several smiles to my lips. It helped that everyone was actually behaving in a civilized fashion this evening (another rarity). I needed this.
For the past week I have felt very disconnected. I will not call it hopelessness because the one connection I did constantly feel was that between me and God. But, I have felt very separate from everyone and everything else. Some of that was undoubtedly due to being computerless. Still, I think it quite possible I would have been withdrawn for the week even without the technical difficulties. Contemplation creates a myriad of thought-words, but they are still in their infancy and must be sheltered from the external world. Observation jump-starts philosophical ponderings late into the night, but the keys on the keyboard remain untouched – the lips remain still.
God is speaking quietly into my heart. He whispers of mercy and grace – of my need to give myself a break. He murmurs to me reminders of the creative abilities He gave me, and He nudges me toward letting go of the notion that I must always follow the text so closely.
The last line of crocheted stitches connects to the first with a simple loop – full circle- disconnection becomes connection; solitude becomes union.
So, tonight was the night that we took all of the kids Christmas shopping. Several years ago, after getting sick of wading through the piles of dollar store toys which the children purchased for each other every year, we got the bright idea of having them draw names. That way, each child only feels responsible for getting one of their siblings a present. Kids like it because it means they get a better present. Moms and Dads like it because it means less stuff to find a place for after the big day passes.
Making a trip to the store that includes everyone can be quite the experience. I was not looking forward to doing it during the Christmas rush. Amazingly, it turned out well for two major reasons – older kids and cell phones.
As we were driving home in the car, I began pondering which bread I wanted to use as my pillow this evening. A food network special solved this question for me – of course, it has to be fruitcake. Logically then, I simply must speak about connection. Okay, so maybe it isn’t a logical progression to the average soul, but I never claimed to be average.
Connection. While wandering the aisles of the store without children (again, thank you cell phones), I felt a very sure sense of connection. My husband and I got to spend some very rare weekday time together with each other – laughing at some items, frowning at others. One particular wall clock which was designed like a seat cushion gave us quite a few minutes of enjoyment. But, not only did I feel connected to him, I felt a very strong bond with my children who were in other aisles of the store. The little waves of hello when we happened to cross paths brought several smiles to my lips. It helped that everyone was actually behaving in a civilized fashion this evening (another rarity). I needed this.
For the past week I have felt very disconnected. I will not call it hopelessness because the one connection I did constantly feel was that between me and God. But, I have felt very separate from everyone and everything else. Some of that was undoubtedly due to being computerless. Still, I think it quite possible I would have been withdrawn for the week even without the technical difficulties. Contemplation creates a myriad of thought-words, but they are still in their infancy and must be sheltered from the external world. Observation jump-starts philosophical ponderings late into the night, but the keys on the keyboard remain untouched – the lips remain still.
God is speaking quietly into my heart. He whispers of mercy and grace – of my need to give myself a break. He murmurs to me reminders of the creative abilities He gave me, and He nudges me toward letting go of the notion that I must always follow the text so closely.
The last line of crocheted stitches connects to the first with a simple loop – full circle- disconnection becomes connection; solitude becomes union.
Monday, December 11, 2006
it ain't origami
I feel in need of haiku. How odd is that?
lights shining brightly
beckoning giving spirit
from stillness within
gentle quiet touch
of understanding the deep
hidden parts of me
bare branches reach out
silhouettes in the night sky
fingers touching God
lights shining brightly
beckoning giving spirit
from stillness within
gentle quiet touch
of understanding the deep
hidden parts of me
bare branches reach out
silhouettes in the night sky
fingers touching God
Friday, December 08, 2006
whatever happened....
I'm not ignoring you...really! I'm just computerless at present.
Hope to be back soon!
Hope to be back soon!
Monday, December 04, 2006
burnt toast
In the explanation for sleeping with bread, the following quote jumps out at me today: “The examen, based on the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius, helps a person hold onto what spiritually nourishes him by looking at what is giving him consolation in his life or causing him desolation. It allows someone to express his gratitude to God for the good stuff and turn to him for solace for the bad stuff.”
Today, I need solace. There isn’t a lot of bad stuff, but I am in a very gray place. Therefore, since I neglected my bread until after 11 PM, and I almost forgot about it completely, I am going to follow a slightly different format today.
The bad stuff:
I can’t seem to get myself even remotely organized. I have been pathetic about homeschooling for several weeks in a row. I can’t seem to drum up the motivation to be a good teacher, and it takes just a slight blip in the normal routine of the day to completely throw off my ability to teach at all. I look around at the chaos which is my home – that which is supposed to be a safe haven and a place of peace – and my attention-deficit-ed brain can see no possible way of turning things around in a reasonable amount of time (a.k.a. less than 100 years). I am wimping out on teaching my kids responsibility because I am too emotionally exhausted. It has a lot to do with insomnia, I know. It probably has even more to do with the fact that I am focusing my eyes on the wrong place. Peter didn’t start sinking until he took his eyes off of Jesus.
One would think that such a graphic image would go a long way toward steering me away from the same path, but alas, I seem to be stuck in Romans (specifically Chapter 7 verses 14-24). Sometimes the cycle is longer than others. My forward progress seems to go for longer spurts between bouts of paralysis through disappointment in self.
The good stuff:
And then there is Romans 7:25, “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” I don’t feel it right now, but it has already happened. It was all accomplished long ago. I just need to reach out and take it.
Also, my close friend who is expecting is in the hospital. She has had two stillborn sons. I worry for her. She is almost 35 weeks, and being closely monitored. “What’s this?” you say, “That sounds like the bad stuff!” Nay, it is indeed the stuff of prayer and blessings. It would be the bad stuff if she weren’t being observed – if the sporadic bad spots the babe goes through had not made themselves clear in the presence of doctors. But they did, and she is being watched, and while that doesn’t always make me any less nervous, it is the best place she can be.
So many blessings fill my life that I can actually become accustomed to them, and even, at times, irritated by them. That’s the good stuff.
Evidence abounds that God is truly watching over those I love.
What better stuff can there be?
I am grateful.
I no longer fall into depression which has no hope. Depression may still come (and it does), and hope may be microscopic at times, but it is there. Even a pin-prick of light is evident in a darkened room.
God is good.
Today, I need solace. There isn’t a lot of bad stuff, but I am in a very gray place. Therefore, since I neglected my bread until after 11 PM, and I almost forgot about it completely, I am going to follow a slightly different format today.
The bad stuff:
I can’t seem to get myself even remotely organized. I have been pathetic about homeschooling for several weeks in a row. I can’t seem to drum up the motivation to be a good teacher, and it takes just a slight blip in the normal routine of the day to completely throw off my ability to teach at all. I look around at the chaos which is my home – that which is supposed to be a safe haven and a place of peace – and my attention-deficit-ed brain can see no possible way of turning things around in a reasonable amount of time (a.k.a. less than 100 years). I am wimping out on teaching my kids responsibility because I am too emotionally exhausted. It has a lot to do with insomnia, I know. It probably has even more to do with the fact that I am focusing my eyes on the wrong place. Peter didn’t start sinking until he took his eyes off of Jesus.
One would think that such a graphic image would go a long way toward steering me away from the same path, but alas, I seem to be stuck in Romans (specifically Chapter 7 verses 14-24). Sometimes the cycle is longer than others. My forward progress seems to go for longer spurts between bouts of paralysis through disappointment in self.
The good stuff:
And then there is Romans 7:25, “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” I don’t feel it right now, but it has already happened. It was all accomplished long ago. I just need to reach out and take it.
Also, my close friend who is expecting is in the hospital. She has had two stillborn sons. I worry for her. She is almost 35 weeks, and being closely monitored. “What’s this?” you say, “That sounds like the bad stuff!” Nay, it is indeed the stuff of prayer and blessings. It would be the bad stuff if she weren’t being observed – if the sporadic bad spots the babe goes through had not made themselves clear in the presence of doctors. But they did, and she is being watched, and while that doesn’t always make me any less nervous, it is the best place she can be.
So many blessings fill my life that I can actually become accustomed to them, and even, at times, irritated by them. That’s the good stuff.
Evidence abounds that God is truly watching over those I love.
What better stuff can there be?
I am grateful.
I no longer fall into depression which has no hope. Depression may still come (and it does), and hope may be microscopic at times, but it is there. Even a pin-prick of light is evident in a darkened room.
God is good.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
what's new pussycat?
Children are strange and wonderful. An excerpt from T's Christmas list follows:
1. The Lego Christmas train set (997 pieces, $178 - he's 5)
2. A Giant Ultra-blast Batman and a green hook-shooting Batman (any clue?)
3. A red truck with holes in the walls from Burger K1ng, but now they have Happy Feet (again, any clue?)
4. A red rubber elephant
5. A stuffed animal cow
Children are strange and wonderful. An excerpt from our day follows:
Me: We are going to have a creative day of school today. I want you guys to start thinking and planning out how you would like to make ornaments for the tree.
thinking and planning ensues
Me: Okay, now that you have thought about it, what supplies do you need from me?
small paper plates, cups, staples, tape, markers, crayons, and origami books make an entrance on the table
J: Mine is going to be an airplane.
T: Mine is you, Mommy. Can you draw the pupils?
R: Ho Ho give you Chrismus for you birfday! Me draw Ho Ho (her name for Santa).
M: I think I know what the partridge in the pear tree stands for in the song. I think it is about when Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see Jesus. I am going to make my ornament the first five days of Christmas. What does a partridge look like?
Me: That's a lot of birds!
M: Yeah, and I am not quite sure how to draw calling birds. Maybe I should draw sound waves coming out of their mouths.
S: The origami book only has ones which are more than one piece, and I don't want to tape it. So, I made the moon. The cow jumped over it, but he didn't get far (evil laugh).
N:
N, isn't really silent at this point, he is just at work, so I have no idea what he is saying
Children are sometimes a trial. Excerpt from our family trip to the warehouse store follows:
N,S,M,J,T,R: Mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-m! Are you going go get this? Can we get this? Do we have any of this?
The Dear Hubster: Honey, do we have any of this? Can we get this? Boys, if Mommy says no, it means no. I asked!
Me: Insert long and ranting lecture here. Rewind and repeat.
Mothers are sometimes imperfect:
I really do need to remember to take God along with me when I travel. The patience I can muster when flying solo wouldn't cover a quick stop at the corner store. Note to self: Pack prayer, humor, and free-spiritedness into every nook and cranny before rising. Replenish as needed.
1. The Lego Christmas train set (997 pieces, $178 - he's 5)
2. A Giant Ultra-blast Batman and a green hook-shooting Batman (any clue?)
3. A red truck with holes in the walls from Burger K1ng, but now they have Happy Feet (again, any clue?)
4. A red rubber elephant
5. A stuffed animal cow
Children are strange and wonderful. An excerpt from our day follows:
Me: We are going to have a creative day of school today. I want you guys to start thinking and planning out how you would like to make ornaments for the tree.
thinking and planning ensues
Me: Okay, now that you have thought about it, what supplies do you need from me?
small paper plates, cups, staples, tape, markers, crayons, and origami books make an entrance on the table
J: Mine is going to be an airplane.
T: Mine is you, Mommy. Can you draw the pupils?
R: Ho Ho give you Chrismus for you birfday! Me draw Ho Ho (her name for Santa).
M: I think I know what the partridge in the pear tree stands for in the song. I think it is about when Zacchaeus climbed the tree to see Jesus. I am going to make my ornament the first five days of Christmas. What does a partridge look like?
Me: That's a lot of birds!
M: Yeah, and I am not quite sure how to draw calling birds. Maybe I should draw sound waves coming out of their mouths.
S: The origami book only has ones which are more than one piece, and I don't want to tape it. So, I made the moon. The cow jumped over it, but he didn't get far (evil laugh).
N:
N, isn't really silent at this point, he is just at work, so I have no idea what he is saying
Children are sometimes a trial. Excerpt from our family trip to the warehouse store follows:
N,S,M,J,T,R: Mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-m! Are you going go get this? Can we get this? Do we have any of this?
The Dear Hubster: Honey, do we have any of this? Can we get this? Boys, if Mommy says no, it means no. I asked!
Me: Insert long and ranting lecture here. Rewind and repeat.
Mothers are sometimes imperfect:
I really do need to remember to take God along with me when I travel. The patience I can muster when flying solo wouldn't cover a quick stop at the corner store. Note to self: Pack prayer, humor, and free-spiritedness into every nook and cranny before rising. Replenish as needed.
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