Date Archives → November 2009

counting joys

When the alarm went off, I was already exhausted. It was one of those days.

Several hours later, several loads of laundry had been cycled, lists of errands and to-dos and must-pack items had been made, the house had been pulled together after a very busy Sunday, the boys were dressed and even looking cute, and I’d found every return and receipt I needed. We all headed out to the van, got buckled in, and — nothing. The car wouldn’t start. As Ryan was discovering this fact, I tripped on an uneven brick and twisted my ankle (but did not drop the baby: points for me.)

I calmly collected the kids and got started on a Christmas craft instead.

Ha! Nope, that’s not true, actually.

I quietly got the kids out of the car and waved to Ryan as he set out (on foot) to work, but inside I was seething. I could tell a volcanic eruption was near. I was thinking something along the lines of, I don’t know WHOSE IDEA OF A JOKE THIS IS, BUT IT’S NOT FUNNY!!

I stood on the stoop with bags in hand, a three year old asking repeatedly, “What are we doing now, Mama?”, and a teething baby crying and clawing at my legs, and I suddenly remembered James 1.

Count it all joy…

And I know that a spoiled morning doesn’t compare with a lot of other trials and tribulations, not even close. But I do know that these everyday furnaces test us and try us and prepare us — if we let them.

Would I let it?

In tears, I managed to say, out loud, “Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to grow in patience and trust in You.”

(Naturally, Jameson asked who I was talking to, why I was crying, and when lunch would be ready. This is the current soundtrack of my life, and someday I’ll miss it.)

Since that morning crisis, the day has continued in the same pattern. (I was hoping that a quick response to the Holy Spirit’s promptings would usher me into a few hours of ease and happiness, but not this time, I guess.) William has cried all day. He pinches my skin when he nurses, and I’ve almost lost it a couple times. Jameson has been a peach, but an energetic one. None of my lists have been touched, and if that weren’t overwhelming enough, that awful devil has started in with nagging thoughts about how filthy the kitchen floor is and what a lousy housekeeper I am.

It’s that sort of day.

It feels unproductive. No, make that counterproductive.

But that’s not the whole story.

The Bible says that even this sort of day can be hugely productive, if I “let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

And so.

So I repent, repent, repent. I cry out for Jesus over and over and over. And I count even this crisis of the soul as joy, knowing that the testing of my faith produces endurance.

Some things just don’t come easy, but faith that endures is worth the pain.

catch up

A whole week of quiet here.

That’s what happens when my world goes into overdrive, I guess.

We had an absolutely wonderful, full-of-good-memories weekend (last week) with Ryan’s dad and step-mom. William was dedicated at church. My sister lost her baby. Thanksgiving was busy and full and fun. William pulled a few all-nighters thanks to more teething. The weekend was more fullness and fun and family time.

My hands, my head, my heart: they’ve all been busy.

And it can’t slow down just yet. A few days for laundry, errands, and packing — and then a month in New York. Can’t wait.

(william’s dedication)

(thanksgiving day)



more…

sowing.

I love to find beauty in my days. I love to notice little moments of loveliness that might easily be rushed right past and forgotten. I work hard to make each moment something — books, crafts, chores with Mama, candles at supper, clean pj’s, tickles and kisses on bare bellies. Those things are little seeds.

There are some hours, even days, when it’s harder to see life as beautiful, as sowing seeds. And when life is less than beautiful, I find it hard to not blame myself for failing. When there is an hour of repeated blatant disobedience and a baby crying hysterically in the background, and two parents are finding it hard to not lose it in the emotional pressure-cooker of the moment, I most likely am thinking, “This is awful. What am I doing wrong?”

Sometimes? Nothing.

Why does it surprise me, when I live with three sinners (plus the one within), that there are messy hours? When these darling little babes are born into the world as haters of God, rebels from the get-go, why does it surprise me that faithful parenting sometimes means coming face to face with sin’s ugliness?

That awful hour of tried patience, multiple offenses and meted consequences, crying baby and general upheaval — is that any less sowing seeds than the quieter hours of reading and singing and dusting? In the midst of that chaos, isn’t it possible for me to hear a whisper of commendation: “Keep up the faithfulness; you’re doing great”?

From the right perspective, isn’t it even possible for me to see something beautiful — to see that my little men are having seeds of righteousness planted in their hearts? To see young parents who know so little about grace and patience learning the ways of a perfect Father?

It may not be the most fun sowing — but it is sowing. Necessary and invaluable sowing.

And I don’t need to flog myself for having failed; I don’t need to feel like I’ve let God down. Sin coming to the surface — that’s part of His plan, and part of the crazy adventure called Family.

In fact, if I’ve failed at all, it’s because I’ve hated those moments and wished them gone instead of being glad that grace is at work. I, too, want to see beauty in the ugly.

a prayer request

Ben and Regina — a young couple at church — have a little boy, about 18 months old. Jonathan was born extremely prematurely, and his life is a miracle. About a month ago, Regina gave birth to a sister — after being on strict bed rest for quite awhile and finally making it past that magic 24-week mark. Today I saw them in church for the first time since the baby was born. When I went over to offer my congratulations, and tell Regina how good it was to see her after praying for her and the baby girl for so long, they shared this with me: a week after their little girl was born, Jonathan was diagnosed with late stage liver cancer. He’s two days into his first round of chemo. The preemie baby girl is still in the hospital, but they wanted to get Jonathan to church today before he’s too sick from the treatment to go. Had his condition been discovered earlier, there would be no doubt about a positive outcome. As it is, however, they find themselves in a very fearful place.

If you think of it, would you pray for little Jonathan and his parents? My heart broke when they told me, and the least I can do is ask for prayer on their behalf.

fall food

Don’t you love how right it feels to cook and bake when the cool weather sets in? Not much is cozier than an apron, a candle, some jazz in the background, and (of course) a couple set of little helping hands. Here are two recipes we’re enjoying. One is already a classic cold-weather dinner around here, and the other something we tried for the first time this week.

Butternut* Squash Soup

2 (biggish) butternut squash
2 T butter
1 onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
4 russet potatoes
chicken stock
allspice
nutmeg
ginger
cinnamon
salt and pepper
cream (or milk)

Start by roasting the squash: heat the oven to 375; cut the squash in half and place in a pan, cut-side down; add about an inch of water; roast for an hour or until flesh is very soft.

Saute onions and garlic in butter until soft. Peel and dice potatoes. (A note about potatoes: I don’t really know how many I use. I just aim at having about as much potato as squash, so I eyeball it, depending on the size of my squash.) Add potatoes to pot, and then cover with chicken stock (or water with chicken bouillon with no MSG!) Bring to a boil, then simmer for 20 minutes or until potatoes are soft. Scoop the flesh from the squash and add it to the pot. Now is when a stick blender comes in really handy. Use it to puree the soup; otherwise, pour in batches into a blender. (Be careful; it’s hot!) Once back in the pot, add spices to taste. I start with about 1/2 a teaspoon of the spices, and about a teaspoon of salt. But that’s never enough! I like mine a bit ginger-y. And I love nutmeg. Get it how you like it, then add about 1/2 a cup of cream or milk. Warm it through, and serve. It’s best with a slice of freshly homemade whole wheat bread. Yum!

*I’ve just been using whatever squash they put in my CSA box, and so far, so good!

Pumpkin Cut-Out Cookies

These were actually even better the next day. How often does that happen?

3/4 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup solid pack pumpkin puree
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 pinch salt

In a medium bowl, cream the butter and brown sugar. Stir in the pumpkin. Add the eggs and vanilla, mix well. Sift together the flour, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and salt; stir into the pumpkin mixture.

Chill dough for minimum of 1 hour (I did 2 to be safe!).

Preheat oven to 375.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to 1/8 inch thickness. Cut into desired shapes and place onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 8-10 minutes, till a bit golden on the bottom. Cool on sheet for 2 minutes, then remove to rack (or just dump then on the kitchen table. Ha!)

Glaze:

1 cup confectioners sugar
splash of vanilla
1-2 tablespoons of milk

Mix till smooth. You want a bit of a runny consistency, so add more milk if needed. I use a pastry brush to “paint” the cookies. Nice and fast!

sums.

Sometimes I find myself with a lull. Both boys are napping, and I just don’t feel like jumping right into household chores. Usually it’s because I’m super tired. So instead of working, I decide to ponder. (When you’re super tired, work is ALWAYS a better option than pondering.)

I ponder my current life. I contemplate how the weeks, days, hours are being spent. I reflect on the grand goal of my life — to glorify God — and visualize the trajectory of my actual life and the bulls eye of said goal.

You know where this is going, right?

Yeah. I come to the conclusion that I’m clearly way off the mark. I’m never going to hit it. How can

1. getting dressed
2. getting two more people dressed
3. helping my son make his bed and brush his teeth
4. nursing the hysterical baby
5. making pb&j
6. cleaning up the spilled milk
7. removing the pb&j plastered to little arms and hands and mouths
8. changing a diaper
9. reading a book
10. not losing my temper when my nose get bashed while little people get comfy for storytime
11. starting the book again
12. settling disputes over who touched who
13. taking care of the kid who disobeyed by not laying his head down
14. praying for the 3 year old as loudly as i can because the 1 year old has totally lost it
15. wiping the huge tears off chubby cheeks
16. nursing the baby to sleep
17. deciding to tackle the day’s demands (i.e. washing dishes, vacuuming, making dinner, folding laundry…)

amount to glorifying God??

I certainly don’t feel like I have to be living in Africa in a hut in order to be living a radical Christian life, but don’t I have to be doing more than the above? I’m suddenly panicking. How am I ever going to see the glory of God in my life doing this? I want my kids to know and love Jesus. I want the fruit of the Spirit to ooze out of me. I want our lives to be spent in service to the Church and the world around us. I DON’T SEE THIS ADDING UP!!

(I warned you, there’s panic involved.)

My head is hurting, trying to figure it out, trying to decide what radical thing I need to start doing in order to get a radical outcome. There are tears.

And then there’s a whisper:

Faithfulness.

Oh. I’ve heard this before. In fact, I’ve been here before. (Would you believe that young motherhood is NOT the first time I’ve found myself in a hum-drum sort of season? It’s true!)

Be faithful. Do what you know to do… faithfully.

And I suddenly realize what this is: a challenge to faithful sowing. Faithfulness is obviously a highly-valued attribute, but I forget that being faithful doesn’t necessarily mean doing some Really Big Hard Thing. It usually means doing Some Little Thing Every Single Day No Matter What. That’s what faithfulness means.

It means that even when I look at what I’ve accomplished today and some niggling little voice says, “Feel like a hamster in a wheel yet?”, I don’t cave. I don’t quit sowing these plain-jane little seeds in search of a huge glamorous job — because that would be unfaithful.

And it’s sowing those plain brown seeds with eyes of faith, knowing that there’s some sort of miracle inside that befuddles the human mind. It’s knowing that the sum is greater than its parts. It’s being content to just trust and obey.

“Trust in the LORD and do good;
Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.
Delight yourself in the LORD;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.
He will bring forth your righteousness as the light
And your judgment as the noonday.”

“Do not be deceived, God is not mocked…” — psalm 37; galations 6