I have to share what I've been listening to on my ipod recently: Alan Jackson singing hymns. It's definitely folksy, borderline campy and I LOVE IT! Bub listened to it the other day too. And watching a 5 year old jammin' out to "I'll fly away" is fun enough to make your entire day. It made mine.
"What's on my nightstand?" you ask. As per my MO it's a little crowded. Here's a sampling:
-Celtic Daily Prayer
-If You Want to Walk on Water you have to get out of the Boat
-The Holy Bible
-Season's of a Mother's Heart
-Seizing Your Divine Moment
-Whirlpool (mindless suspense and brain candy)
And last but not least, "What's in my crockpot?" Today's dish features a combination of hydrogenated oils and cholesterol. That's right, I'm making some nacho dip with sausage and Velveeta for a Superbowl Party at our digs tomorrow. Feeling snubbed because you weren't invited? Please don't. It's an exclusive little get together for the people in our cell group at church. We're very chic and well-to-do, as I said the dishes I'm preparing feature hydrogenated oil. :)
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
"Don't sleep through your dreams..."
"Don't sleep through your dreams..." - Erwin Raphael McManus
When I was young I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Never mind that I am legally blind without corrective lenses. Never mind that I have absolutely terrible hand-eye coordination and get stressed out when I have to react quickly to situations. Being a fighter pilot seemed romantic and adventurous.
Alas, I have given up the dream. I decided to become a mom and wife, which, if you think about it is kinda like a fighter pilot. Except for the flying and the fighting parts. Okay, maybe not so much.
But all of my dreams have not gone down in flames. I still dream of working in a children's home in Africa. I dream of teaching adults on the margins... ESL, or life skills or something. I'd like to write a book, and learn to paint. I want a really big flower garden and a home full of character where I can invite in lots of people who need a little extra love. I also dream of having a full time maid in that big house. Someday, my husband and I would like to build our own house. I'd like to go to grad school...because I kinda like school. I want to visit chateau's, and climb a few more fourteeners. I'd like to do something big to advocate for the world orphans...I might even bring home a few for keeps. AND I'd like to weigh what I weighed in college:)
Right now...I serve as a mommy taxi, homework assistant, lunch maker, breakfast maker, dinner maker, toilet scrubber, nose wiper. But the dreams remain... someday I'm going to learn to live the adventure right here, right now, in my ordinary life.
Baby's up...enough rambling.
When I was young I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Never mind that I am legally blind without corrective lenses. Never mind that I have absolutely terrible hand-eye coordination and get stressed out when I have to react quickly to situations. Being a fighter pilot seemed romantic and adventurous.
Alas, I have given up the dream. I decided to become a mom and wife, which, if you think about it is kinda like a fighter pilot. Except for the flying and the fighting parts. Okay, maybe not so much.
But all of my dreams have not gone down in flames. I still dream of working in a children's home in Africa. I dream of teaching adults on the margins... ESL, or life skills or something. I'd like to write a book, and learn to paint. I want a really big flower garden and a home full of character where I can invite in lots of people who need a little extra love. I also dream of having a full time maid in that big house. Someday, my husband and I would like to build our own house. I'd like to go to grad school...because I kinda like school. I want to visit chateau's, and climb a few more fourteeners. I'd like to do something big to advocate for the world orphans...I might even bring home a few for keeps. AND I'd like to weigh what I weighed in college:)
Right now...I serve as a mommy taxi, homework assistant, lunch maker, breakfast maker, dinner maker, toilet scrubber, nose wiper. But the dreams remain... someday I'm going to learn to live the adventure right here, right now, in my ordinary life.
Baby's up...enough rambling.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Keeping you posted
This post is about keeping you posted. I just didn't want you to think we'd fallen off the planet.
-We've had the stomach flu. Twice. In 7 days.
-We need to register our kids for school next year. This involves cash. Do we leap? Do we put our money where our mouth is and trust God to work our the details? Probably.
-I "auditioned" (and I use that term VERY loosely) for the worship team at church. They need somebody to sing back-up; they need a little harmony. While I don't consider myself a particularly gifted musician I can sing harmony. So I will. This should be no big deal to me, but sorta it is. I have gotten comfortable being unseen. Doing something that will be visible to people outside my family feels a little uncomfortable. And while I will be in front of people, I hope I'm still somewhat invisible...worship is so NOT about me and my insecurities. If I can help create a space for people to meet with God I'm all about that, but no spot-light, thank you very much.
-We've had the stomach flu. Twice. In 7 days.
-We need to register our kids for school next year. This involves cash. Do we leap? Do we put our money where our mouth is and trust God to work our the details? Probably.
-I "auditioned" (and I use that term VERY loosely) for the worship team at church. They need somebody to sing back-up; they need a little harmony. While I don't consider myself a particularly gifted musician I can sing harmony. So I will. This should be no big deal to me, but sorta it is. I have gotten comfortable being unseen. Doing something that will be visible to people outside my family feels a little uncomfortable. And while I will be in front of people, I hope I'm still somewhat invisible...worship is so NOT about me and my insecurities. If I can help create a space for people to meet with God I'm all about that, but no spot-light, thank you very much.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Option B
As I see it this world is broken, utterly broken. And we have a choice about how we live in the brokenness.
A) We can hole up in our covenant controlled communities and let our selfishness erode our souls.
B) We can engage the brokeness of our world. We can head to the front lines, live authentically and do our best to be the hands and feet of Christ. This way is harder. Costlier. Better.
Recently, a friend of mine invited me to be a part of a yahoo group of women/mothers who have chosen option B. They have burdened with the things that burden the heart of Jesus, and they have chosen the battle. They are the coolest, most authentic, terrifying women I know. (and you know who you are)
Though they probably wouldn't admit it, their lives are harder than most. Their families look like patchwork quilts...a hodgepodge of color. Some of them have many children. Some of them are on a first name basis with the medical staff at Children's hospital. Some are scrimping and saving to bring home another child from half a world a way. Some write checks, and make sacrifices that are unseen. Others are trying to figure out how to help heal a child who has lived through civil war or years of institutional care.
They challenge me, these women. Because I feel the same burden they do... and I don't want to retreat to option A. But I know what it will cost me to take Jesus' hand and engage the battle. Everything. Everything. Everything.
A) We can hole up in our covenant controlled communities and let our selfishness erode our souls.
B) We can engage the brokeness of our world. We can head to the front lines, live authentically and do our best to be the hands and feet of Christ. This way is harder. Costlier. Better.
Recently, a friend of mine invited me to be a part of a yahoo group of women/mothers who have chosen option B. They have burdened with the things that burden the heart of Jesus, and they have chosen the battle. They are the coolest, most authentic, terrifying women I know. (and you know who you are)
Though they probably wouldn't admit it, their lives are harder than most. Their families look like patchwork quilts...a hodgepodge of color. Some of them have many children. Some of them are on a first name basis with the medical staff at Children's hospital. Some are scrimping and saving to bring home another child from half a world a way. Some write checks, and make sacrifices that are unseen. Others are trying to figure out how to help heal a child who has lived through civil war or years of institutional care.
They challenge me, these women. Because I feel the same burden they do... and I don't want to retreat to option A. But I know what it will cost me to take Jesus' hand and engage the battle. Everything. Everything. Everything.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Homeschool Dropout
I have a bazzilion and a half things floating around in my head that I could blog about, but, as of yet, I can't seem get them organized. Here are some things I've learned in my week of NOT being a homeschool mom - in no discernable order.
-Being a stay-at-home mom of 4 kids is a full time job.
-I am an introvert. I NEED NEED NEED time to myself to process life, and that is legitimate. I am not being selfish; I am just being myself. I cannot give to others when I haven't had a chance to recharge.
-Just because 1/2 of my kids are in school doesn't mean I cease to parent...discipleship is a way of life.
-I need help. A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that I can partner with teachers in educating my kids. Yes, I know people who homeschool 8 kids or more...but I am not one of those who can do it. That's okay.
-There are peices of myself that have been put on the shelf to meet the needs of my family. Someday, one by one, I may have a chance to rediscover those parts of me. I need to be patient, and hopeful.
-I am SERIOUSLY out of shape. I took a class at the fitness club yesterday, and today going up the stairs makes me want to cry like a baby.
-Being a stay-at-home mom of 4 kids is a full time job.
-I am an introvert. I NEED NEED NEED time to myself to process life, and that is legitimate. I am not being selfish; I am just being myself. I cannot give to others when I haven't had a chance to recharge.
-Just because 1/2 of my kids are in school doesn't mean I cease to parent...discipleship is a way of life.
-I need help. A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders now that I can partner with teachers in educating my kids. Yes, I know people who homeschool 8 kids or more...but I am not one of those who can do it. That's okay.
-There are peices of myself that have been put on the shelf to meet the needs of my family. Someday, one by one, I may have a chance to rediscover those parts of me. I need to be patient, and hopeful.
-I am SERIOUSLY out of shape. I took a class at the fitness club yesterday, and today going up the stairs makes me want to cry like a baby.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Well-spring
Above all else guard your heart, for it is the well-spring of life.
Water. It’s essential. I think as a middle-class American living in the 21st century I have no real concept of this. But most of the world, throughout most of history has understood this relationship we have with water. They understand its necessity, how integral it is to survival.
Do you know what the number one killer of children is? Dehydration. Without water we die. It’s that simple.
So when this proverb was written the people who heard felt the impact of the image more strongly than I do. If I went to a well twice a day to draw water for my family and livestock, if I balanced a jug on my head and walked a mile barefoot so I could make my dinner you bet I’d feel differently about water. If I counted on rain to water my garden so my children would have vegetables to eat I would be keenly aware of my dependence.
To say that the heart is the well-spring of life is a big deal. And a powerful image.
So for a moment I will pretend that I live across the Atlantic in a remote African village. There is but one well in the center of town. And that is where I must go to get water. I go every morning, and every afternoon. And when I am at the well I meet other women…everyone comes to the well. Everyone must. We have this in common; this need for water binds us. We are a community.
Because I grew up depending on the well-spring I know there are seasons where the water table is high and the water is plentiful. There are also seasons, years even, of drought. And as a community we conserve. We are not tolerant of those who would use too much, because we are stewards of this resource and our lives depend on us managing it wisely.
Also, we are careful to not to pollute our clean water source, because it has happened before. I have known those who’ve died from diseases contracted from filthy water. The consequences are devastating when a community must choose between no water and filthy water.
And when I hear, “guard your heart, for it is the well-spring of life.” I get it. I understand.
First, a well’s purpose is to offer life. It is functional and central to community. My life, my heart, has been designed to offer life too. A well does not exist for its own sake but for the sake of others.
I understand that I must monitor what goes into my heart and how much comes out. Because I see that when filth is introduced to water it can destroy a community. It is the same with my heart.
And in my lifetime I have seen the well run dry because of over-use, and drought. I understand that I must not pour my heart out for things that are not worth it. I must carefully choose where to invest my life.
So when I hear this proverb I understand who I am, because I understand what a well-spring is.
But there is another story in the Bible about water, a better one I think. So Jesus (who by the way lives in a culture that understands the importance of water) is passing through a village in the middle of the day. It’s hot. He stops at the well to get a drink. He meets a woman there. She is the only other one there, and that is important. Most women come in the morning, when it’s cool. This one comes when she is sure not anyone else. She is shunned from the community; she is alone.
And Jesus speaks to the woman. That’s important too. Because in his culture women were not valued. But Jesus spoke to her, saw her. Women matter to Jesus; this woman mattered to Jesus.
Sometimes Jesus said the weirdest stuff. This is one of those times. He said he was living water. He said that if she drank from him she’d never be thirsty again. Weird. But as a woman living in the desert, who got her water from a well she understood thirst. I bet she thought Jesus was a nutcase. Here he was, in broad daylight, talking to a woman shunned by the community claiming to be living water. But by claiming to be living water Jesus offered hope and healing…to that woman at the well, but to me too.
I’m trying to guard my heart these days. I try not to pollute it by putting crud into my life. I try to be wise about where I invest my resources. I’m trying to remember that my job is to offer life to others. It’s not about me. Sometimes I feel depleted. But I’m learning that I am just the well-spring. Jesus is the water; his life should pour through me. He should be my satisfaction. And in Him I can have what I need to offer life to the community around me.
Water. It’s essential. I think as a middle-class American living in the 21st century I have no real concept of this. But most of the world, throughout most of history has understood this relationship we have with water. They understand its necessity, how integral it is to survival.
Do you know what the number one killer of children is? Dehydration. Without water we die. It’s that simple.
So when this proverb was written the people who heard felt the impact of the image more strongly than I do. If I went to a well twice a day to draw water for my family and livestock, if I balanced a jug on my head and walked a mile barefoot so I could make my dinner you bet I’d feel differently about water. If I counted on rain to water my garden so my children would have vegetables to eat I would be keenly aware of my dependence.
To say that the heart is the well-spring of life is a big deal. And a powerful image.
So for a moment I will pretend that I live across the Atlantic in a remote African village. There is but one well in the center of town. And that is where I must go to get water. I go every morning, and every afternoon. And when I am at the well I meet other women…everyone comes to the well. Everyone must. We have this in common; this need for water binds us. We are a community.
Because I grew up depending on the well-spring I know there are seasons where the water table is high and the water is plentiful. There are also seasons, years even, of drought. And as a community we conserve. We are not tolerant of those who would use too much, because we are stewards of this resource and our lives depend on us managing it wisely.
Also, we are careful to not to pollute our clean water source, because it has happened before. I have known those who’ve died from diseases contracted from filthy water. The consequences are devastating when a community must choose between no water and filthy water.
And when I hear, “guard your heart, for it is the well-spring of life.” I get it. I understand.
First, a well’s purpose is to offer life. It is functional and central to community. My life, my heart, has been designed to offer life too. A well does not exist for its own sake but for the sake of others.
I understand that I must monitor what goes into my heart and how much comes out. Because I see that when filth is introduced to water it can destroy a community. It is the same with my heart.
And in my lifetime I have seen the well run dry because of over-use, and drought. I understand that I must not pour my heart out for things that are not worth it. I must carefully choose where to invest my life.
So when I hear this proverb I understand who I am, because I understand what a well-spring is.
But there is another story in the Bible about water, a better one I think. So Jesus (who by the way lives in a culture that understands the importance of water) is passing through a village in the middle of the day. It’s hot. He stops at the well to get a drink. He meets a woman there. She is the only other one there, and that is important. Most women come in the morning, when it’s cool. This one comes when she is sure not anyone else. She is shunned from the community; she is alone.
And Jesus speaks to the woman. That’s important too. Because in his culture women were not valued. But Jesus spoke to her, saw her. Women matter to Jesus; this woman mattered to Jesus.
Sometimes Jesus said the weirdest stuff. This is one of those times. He said he was living water. He said that if she drank from him she’d never be thirsty again. Weird. But as a woman living in the desert, who got her water from a well she understood thirst. I bet she thought Jesus was a nutcase. Here he was, in broad daylight, talking to a woman shunned by the community claiming to be living water. But by claiming to be living water Jesus offered hope and healing…to that woman at the well, but to me too.
I’m trying to guard my heart these days. I try not to pollute it by putting crud into my life. I try to be wise about where I invest my resources. I’m trying to remember that my job is to offer life to others. It’s not about me. Sometimes I feel depleted. But I’m learning that I am just the well-spring. Jesus is the water; his life should pour through me. He should be my satisfaction. And in Him I can have what I need to offer life to the community around me.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The first day...
Today was my kids' first day of regular school. They were nervous. M bounced. E brooded. It's funny how the same emotion plays out differently in different kids.
Anyhoo...they loved it. Their teachers rock. And they were tired.
I loved it...It feels like the right fit. AND I got to work-out, spend time with the Littles, and be an introvert. When 3 o'clock rolled around instead of feeling frazzled and emotionally drained I had energy and love to pour into my kiddos.
It was one of those, "So this is what normal feels like" moments. I don't mean that homeschooling is abnormal. I just mean that I'd forgotten what it feels like to not be emotionally spent...to give out of abundance instead of a deficit.
One of these days I'm gonna blog about that giving out of a deficit thing. Just not today.
Hope your Wednesday was as happy as mine.
Anyhoo...they loved it. Their teachers rock. And they were tired.
I loved it...It feels like the right fit. AND I got to work-out, spend time with the Littles, and be an introvert. When 3 o'clock rolled around instead of feeling frazzled and emotionally drained I had energy and love to pour into my kiddos.
It was one of those, "So this is what normal feels like" moments. I don't mean that homeschooling is abnormal. I just mean that I'd forgotten what it feels like to not be emotionally spent...to give out of abundance instead of a deficit.
One of these days I'm gonna blog about that giving out of a deficit thing. Just not today.
Hope your Wednesday was as happy as mine.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
lemon curd etc.
-I made homeade lemon curd with my son. It had lumps. When I made it myself it did not have lumps. Just saying.
-I cannot believe I just saw an an ad for "Hooters: Best Damn Dream Girl" reality TV show. This is the state of our country people.
-Eddie got his eye cut up; corneal abbrasion and blood clot was the Doctor's diagnosis. How did he sustain this injury? A part flew off one of my kid's new Christmas toys. Pray it doesn't get infected.
-Baby has taken to following her brother and sister around and doing exactly what they do...it's cute and good for the egos' of my big kids until they CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE. The funny thing is that they absolutely cannot stand to make her cry so she, being a good baby, throws a whopping fit until they let her follow her around again.
-We're back from our marathon road trip. I'm with Dorthy, "There's no place like home."
-I cannot believe I just saw an an ad for "Hooters: Best Damn Dream Girl" reality TV show. This is the state of our country people.
-Eddie got his eye cut up; corneal abbrasion and blood clot was the Doctor's diagnosis. How did he sustain this injury? A part flew off one of my kid's new Christmas toys. Pray it doesn't get infected.
-Baby has taken to following her brother and sister around and doing exactly what they do...it's cute and good for the egos' of my big kids until they CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE. The funny thing is that they absolutely cannot stand to make her cry so she, being a good baby, throws a whopping fit until they let her follow her around again.
-We're back from our marathon road trip. I'm with Dorthy, "There's no place like home."
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