Peter in the Garden

So this isn't really a final draft, but I wanted to post it today, lest I don't have a chance over the rest of the weekend. Besides, it's Maudy Thursday so what better time?
It's a little long. But it's kind of hard to cram Peter into a poem. I think it would make a better monologue, since this actually sort of sounds like poetry slam or something. But it's what I got. It's what I've been thinking about, how faith can be so weak even as Jesus is accomplishing His greatest acts. I might have to write Peter part 2, since I love the account of him and Jesus on the beach frying fish. But there just wasn't room for it with this one.

The Last Night

In the upper room for Passover,
While we were busy clamoring,
The teacher stooped and washed our feet.
I didn’t understand then how much it would mean.
Instead I argued, like I always do,
hoping something I said would make him explain
and he told me unless I was washed, I had no part with him.
It still didn’t seem right.
And neither did it, when he told us he’d be betrayed by one of us.
I didn’t want to think it was me
And I felt a sense of relief, when he passed that dipped bread to Judas.
Then he shared the cup with us, and told us of future glory
In His Father’s kingdom
And something about his broken body and spilled blood.

On the walk to the garden he prophesied again
And he said we would all fall away
They would strike the shepherd and the sheep would scatter
And I knew I shouldn’t argue but I said it anyway
I wouldn’t. I never would.
Then he told me I’d deny him, even tonight before the rooster crows
But I still promised I would follow to the death

And I could see the darkening of his face in the fire we lit while we sang a hymn.
He took me and John and James further in
And then he walked away
For a while I watched, and I could hear Him crying
Begging for the cup to be passed
And I think then I realized tonight would be different than the last three years
Tonight, whether in glory or death, His kingdom would begin.
I fell asleep there and I don’t know why. I still wish I hadn’t.
When I saw him next his hair was wet
And I thought there was blood mixed in his sweat
But his face was set like flint there in the moonlight—
Resolve and duress in his eyes.

They came with swords and clubs
A detachment of soldiers, wielding their best weapons
And Judas there at the lead, lighting the way
He kissed the Rabbi’s cheek
And if I could have reached him then, I would have hit him
The men asked for Jesus, and he said “I am He” with such power
They retreated and fell on their faces.
And I held my breath, waiting for his power to be revealed.
But he let them seize him instead.
And I was the only one who drew a sword to protect him.
He just walked away with them
And I stayed behind with a sword in my hand.
We didn’t know where to go
So some of us followed behind
And now I wonder what made me afraid
How did I ever come to that place?
Holding on in such fear and weakness of faith
When I was the one who had walked on water
Why was my heart, always so quick to fight,
Suddenly frozen? My tongue, so quick to speak and
Silenced there by the fire outside the Sanhedrin.

a little girl and a slave, asked if I knew him
And I said I didn’t. When they asked again, I said no.
The third time I swore with curses, with my Galilean accent telling of the lie
Then a rooster crowed.
And I, the one who had sworn first to follow unto death,
Stood there and wept, swallowed up by grief and doubt.
But it felt then like the world had become dark
While he was with us we saw the light
Yet in that moment, from the time he had been taken away
All that I’d built my confidence in seemed to fade

When they put him on the cross, I could hardly see.
Amidst the earthquake and the darkness and the rain
I just thought about that rooster, how Jesus had never been wrong
How all the things He’d told us would one day come to pass
While I didn’t understand them, I understood that one thing.
I had betrayed Him.
The Living God, who possessed the words of eternal life. The one true and rightful king.
There would be no room now at his right hand,
No kingdom come for me.
And yet, I still believed.

Because with Jesus, nothing was ever as it seemed.
He’d told me the rooster would crow.
He’d told me we’d all be scattered.
But before that He’d promised not to leave us and he’d said not to be afraid.
So that night I remembered how he’d stood in the boat and calmed the waves
How he’d appeared to us like a ghost on the raging waters
And I’d walked out to him with my wavering faith.
And with that shard of hope, I thought
maybe tomorrow, he’d be among us again
Laughing at the wind.
Calling us his friends.

SO EXCITED

It always feels good to finish reading a good novel. Unless it was meant to be depressing, but I don't usually read that kind. I usually get kind of hyper when I finally read the last chapter, even if I'd read ahead and knew how it would finish. Because I like seeing how it all comes together.
There's a kind of euphoria you experience that's similar, when you write your own novel.
I've written a lot. I started in seventh grade on my dad's work laptop, and I haven't been able to stop. I was probably geek-ville, because I think, when I was tweleve, I'd written at least 3 70+ page novels. Not to mention the countless ones scribbled out in notebooks.
They were all stupid, but at age 12, they were pretty cool. My friends even liked them.
At age 20-something, it's still amazing to finish. I finish a lot less often. I've gone back and edited a lot. And, often, I leave a story knowing I'll have to come back and tweak it and change certain plot points. But it hasn't got enough steam at the time to keep me going.

Today I finished one that I've had in my head since ninth grade. I didn't even start writing it until maybe five years ago. It never came together quite right until the last year or so. I decided to revisit the half-finished manuscript. I then decided to redo it. I kept bits and pieces, but most of it got hacked.
The end result? Perhaps my most favorite story I've ever written. (As mentioned before, I've written many. More than 20 probably, although most of them are for teenage audiences so I don't know fi that counts). I can't even share the details since we're on the internet and someone would steal them.
There have been so many that needed work. That have just been a little under par. (over par? I don't play golf).
But this. This I feel I could market. It's amazing. I've always felt like it had more potential than the others. I think I'm just happy about the end, because it involves a cabin on the prairie and horses. And it ended a little differently than I planned it to. But doesn't everything?

Goodbyes

I said goodbye to two good friends this last week. One is a friend Kelly I'd met through a young adults group back before I had kids. We've stayed in touch and she had her own kid, got married, and we were enjoying the same Bible study the last two years. Her husband took a new job in Arizona and now they're on their way down there. She's lived here her whole life. I didn't expect her to ever move away, and now she doesn't think they'll ever move back to the area. I'll miss her a lot.
The other one was the young adult pastor and his family. They've been here basically since I got married, building up a little flock of young adults in the church and doing a lot of work with people in my age and phase of life. They decided to go and learn how to plant churches, and then go ahead and plant one somewhere in Iowa. (River Tree Project) They're excited. They knew God was moving them on. They knew God had plans in store for them. And, as a person who was never super close to them, but always appreciated everything they did, I just... didn't really want them to go.
It was sort of like how I felt when my brother and sister-in-law moved to the other end of the globe. You know it's what God wants for them. And you know that it's good and right. But it doesn't feel like that, when you're the one left behind.
I guess mostly because I don't really like change, when it's something I really like having that way. I wish that we didn't live off of change. That life weren't so static.
But, here we are. And I think this is a time of life when a lot of people my age are moving around and trying new things. There's that 7-year itch, when careers become kind of stale and people want to try something different. we're made for change.
But I really didn't want to say goodbye to either of my friends. And in those few moments that I had at their individual going-away parties, I had time to talk with them and realize it was probably the last conversation we'd have in a long time. Maybe ever. I know you can stay in touch through the internet and all of the great technology, but it isn't the same as week to week face to face contact. There's something about that that makes a different dynamic in a relationship.
I'm glad for the few moments I had with all of them to say goodbye. The pastor and his wife, and my friend Kelly. I can't wait til heaven when we can all visit with each other as much as we want and no one will go away, and no one will be too busy, and we can share our stories with each other.
Billy Sprague has a song called "Heaven is a Long Hello". I'm tired of saying goodbye to people. I can't wait for that long hello.

15 Years Ago

Everyone has these events in their life that shape their future and become that black thread in their tapestry. Some of them are really huge. Divorces, parents leaving, deaths, breakups. Some people have more than one. Some people probably have hundreds, linked up together with other ones, inseparable from the reds and blues and greens.
I don't have very many. And it sounds so trival when I talk about it. I know it isn't monumental, and I know it's really not "that big of a deal", but it took a long time to really get over it.
15 years ago, we were at a church where things went amuck. I can't really share all of the details because I don't feel like it. There were so many things happening behind the scenes. So many creepy dark spiritual things that I hate even remembering. And, many of the things were just simple church politics gone wrong.
Dad confronted the leadership, who, I think were a little self-serving and self-absorbed. Mostly just deceived. They asked him to leave the church. They called him the devil, and said that we were blaspheming the Holy spirit. Whatever that means.
I can't really explain it the way I should. I think, at age 15 I understood most of what was happening. But I can't explain it well. especially if you've never been injured by a church. It doesn't really make sense. It's like, you should just move on and find a better church, right?
But when people you trust, and love and spend so much of your life with, turn their backs on you, it's really hard to handle.
I had a guy friend back then. We weren't officially anything, mostly because he was two years younger than me and I was pretty good friends with his sister. we were close, though. He'd call me up and kind of try to argue about why we'd left. I didn't really have any good answers, I just knew it was right. And he stopped calling eventually and I didn't really see him again for a long time. I still miss him and wonder what might have happened if he'd stayed in touch.
When the people who are your spiritual leaders all forsake you, it leaves you kind of at a loss. My dad of course, was the biggest spiritual leader, and I followed him ultimately. but it did make me start to wonder if what I'd learned my whole life was even true. I had no idea how to filter out what was actually true and what was nonsense and lies and unbiblical.
So we left, and really, in the end, only one of my friends stayed friends with me. I wasn't really popular at school. By "wasn't really" I mean I had one actual friend who I even liked talking to and a couple of other geeks who I talked to a lot by default since we were always the losers. That left me my brothers (who are awesome), my best friend Bethany (whose parents are way more mature and wise than most of their peers and didn't get so wound up over some theological differences, and still let their daughter hang around me even though they probably actually didn't want to) and my internet friends. Primarily Brian who is still one of the most amazing people I know.
It was lonely. Wow, it was lonely.
And there was a lot of other crap going on. Creepy things. Some people would call it "spiritual warfare" or "spiritual attack". People left weird sidewalk graffiti outside of our house. Someone broke the window in our van (right outside my bedroom window). My sister got hit by a car. My mom had episodes where she couldn't breathe. There were nightmares. It was just creepy.
I was fifteen. i loved Jesus but at that point, that was all I knew. I hated church. I wanted to like it but I just didn't. We were visiting other places, trying to find a good fit. None of them fit. Not that our first church really did either. I'd never liked the youth group there. But I did like my Bible quiz team and my four friends, and now they were gone.
We visited a lot of churches. We were seriously considering one. Then my folks decided to try one of the other ones that they'd gone to without us a few weeks ago. We all went.
That day, I found light in my darkness. I found the best youth group I'd ever seen with people who were friendly and actually cared about spiritual things, and really let God live in their hearts. The pastor preached a REAL sermon. The music was great and engaging. They all seemed to like each other. After the service, the pastor walked among the people and talked with them like they were all his friends. And they were.
Fifteen years ago, the black thread in my tapestry had a bright yellow thread wound around it. And, there were years of scars to take care of ahead of me. But there, in that awesome youth room with blue and yellow ceiling tiles, and cheerful kids and good Bible teaching, I found home. And I'd never even known that I could be in a place so comfortable, so welcoming and so right.
It was streams in my desert. It was a feast set before me when I'd been eating dry bread. And it still is that way, 1,000 more people later. A husband, two kids, and hundreds of friends later. I love it there. And, God redeems and restores.

i think of things I could blog about throughout the day, but whenever I have a chance to sit down and actually write something, my mind goes blank. Oh well.
The house is in disarray right now. we tore out the shower and are going to put in a new one. It SUCKS. I am not a patient project person. I hate them. I don't sit around envisioning the perfect end product. I just hate them. I hope we never live in another house like this one.
Right now, the hammer drill is banging away while the kids are getting ready to go to sleep.
And I'll stop because I just want to complain. And you probably don't care much.
I really don't have anything to say. Although, maybe sometime within a week, I'll have another poem cranked out. It's sitting there on the edge of my mind, all of these thoughts swimming around in little phrases that I have to link together.
I guess I should go and do something productive now.

Spring Has Come

I used to hate spring time. It's always muddy and windy and you spend most days waiting for a good-weather day, surprised when it actually comes. I like it now. Probably partly because I have kids and by the end of winter, I'm ready to do something besides chase after their messes in the house. WE don't have to put on nineteen hundred outdoor clothing to go places, and I don't have to warm up the car.
Partly I like it because it just feels like everything's starting new. All of the darkness of winter has passed. We're getting ready for the time of year when we can do things as a family without any planning or effort.
And, my flowers are blooming. When we came home from the hospital after having Grace, Daniel's aunt had left us a nice pot of flowers, all in bloom. In the dead of winter. They were so pretty. We saved the bulbs and planted them the next year. The evil squirrels dug most of them up, but last year, lo and behold, an iris and two little daffodils popped up! This year, there are even more of them. It brings joy to remember how the cloudy days can pass and new life always returns.
I suppose I'll have to dig those up when we move. I couldn't leave them behind.

I was planning to use this post to just say that I haven't written much because I've been busy with warm weather and house projects. And it's true. It's because spring is here. Time to clean up the messes, scrub the carpet, and organize.
And, tonight, my friend from college is coming! She's been in England for three years and I've missed her so much. So. I'll be busy until further notice.

Hospital Bed

I've been at the hospital for 29 hours now with my oldest daughter. She became dehydrated a couple of days ago, so they're monitering her. It's not looking really serious right now. But I hate being here, helpess. I like having the help, and knowing that if anything gets worse, we're where we should be. I'm restless now, thinking about all of the things I need to do when i get home. I'm pretty exhausted too. And, in the night, you worry about things you have no need to worry about. Here's what I wrote because I'm bored.

Hospital Bed

What helplessness we find
in the hospital bed
watching
waiting
time slowly ticking by
and the trouble we imagine
tormenting our sleep

what frailty we see
those tiny hands
tiny tears
calling out for help
which I cannot give

But bigger hands hold us
In the weakest of times
showing us hope
saving, sustaining,
Healing—His voice
Singing a song in the night:
Help is on the way

Fight, Fight, Fight Fight Fight!

I was talking to a friend out in DC the other day about the 60's, of all things. Probably anyone who lived during the 60's and 70's would have laughed at our naive, outsider's perspective on all that happened "back then".
She mentioned how you could tell what subculture a person from that time came out of--the hippies, the soldiers, or the Jesus people--by what they're fighting for/against today.
I think it's funny how so many cultural patterns were set then, and how they still influience our thinking today, more so than the generations that followed. My friend was noticing how all of the pastors from that time seem to want to be fighting, but they don't really know what they're fighting anymore. I don't even know what to think of that, but I do think that, a lot of folks who came out of the 60's and 70's have an axe to grind. I didn't notice it in my parents, but I can see it in prominent political figures, disillusioned by their idealism from the 60's, planning to save the world with government now. I can see it in many Christians, too, who think that the Church is actually the problem with Christianity.
And I think, maybe we're in a similar place that those folks were in. Disillusioned with the government, in the midst of a war that so few people support, dissatisfied with the religious establishment. Maybe we're at another breaking point. And maybe we don't realize it. As my friend said, maybe no one realizes that they're in a moment in history that will be studied and analyzed for years to come, when they're in that moment, just living and looking at the present.
Right now, I feel like we're looking at overturned old soil that's grown the last generation's crops, and we're ready to plant something new. All kinds of things can grow there. Between religion, technology, economics and government, I think we're in for a mixed crop. I don't want to be in the free-spirited camp, or the military camp. Or people who are putting their hope in establishments at all. I want to be in with the people following God's lead, establishing the only thing that's going to last. His Kingdom.

I'll Fly Away

So, I've been watching this absolutely amazing TV show called I'll Fly Away. I watched it when i was a kid, back in the early 90's when it was a new show. It's about a family who lived in the south during the civil rights movement. The dad of the home is the district attorney, and struggles with where he stands on different issues, and what battles he should fight. His three kids offer three perspectives--the oldest, open minded and willing to cross lines a little, the middle daughter, a snitty 13-year-old who thinks nothing's a big deal and the world should revolve around her, and the 6-year-old who asks a lot of questions and doesn't understand the ways of the world. Their house worker, a black woman, is also a main character, and we see much of her life and hear her reflections at the end of every episode.
Even as a middle schooler, I would watch the show on Sunday nights, enjoying the drama even when I didn't fully understand it. It changed my perspective then, and I like the show all the more now that I really understand everything. I think everyone would. Forget Roots! This show gives life to all of the stories that we heard whenever we studied the movement in school.
Growing up in the middle of the middle, I just can't even fathom the battle that happened. I can't imagine what it would have been like to stand up, for the first time, and risk being hurt or killed, just because I wanted to be treated with respect.
I wonder, if I'd lived then, what I would have done with my own influence. If I would have even thought much of it, or if I'd have sat back and watched it all unfold without lifting a finger for either camp. I don't know what i would have done. All I know is, having watched a few of these episodes, I have a new respect for those brave people who decided enough was enough--the people who still do it, every day, around the world. And I hope, if the chance ever arises and I have the chance to stand up and fight for something I really believe in, that I'll do it with all of my strength.

Infobesity, and fasting from technology

So I read this article today that got me thinking. I shared it on facebook, but I wanted to write something about it quickly here. It was really good (click on the title of this post to see the article), pointing out how we become addicted to our on-the-spot social networks and email and internet, forgetting the world around us. There were a lot of good points there. Basicaly, it came down to "infobesiety":

"Susan Maushart, author of the new book, The Winter of Our Disconnect, describes this kind of addiction to media with the marvelous term “infobesity.” Just as Americans have a growing reputation—if you’ll pardon the pun—for physical obesity, we also have an expanding commitment to staying “connected” through social media such as Facebook and devices such as smart phones."

Interesting? Personally, I'm a little offended when I'm talking with someone and they're checking their phone every five minutes (or seconds), sending texts and really, only half-engaged in what I'm saying. I don't have a smart phone so I can't really say how it should be, but I decided today to make an effort to be less consumed by the internet world, and focus more on God, and connect face-to-face with tangible people more. Because, more often than not, I'm wasting time reading about what someone ate for lunch, when I could be talking to my neighbor about what's in her soul. I don't want to be an addict. It's annoying.

So, here it is, internet world. I'm going to take Wednesdays off. No internet. I'll try it for a month, and hopefully can have enough will power to stick with it even longer. Who wants to join me?

Isaiah

I just finished my Bible study for tomorrow. Isaiah is so full of good things. 41-43 are treasures. So meaty. Every verse means something. I really got a lot out of it, so I'm going to have to share. I apologize you non-Bible people.

42:13 The Lord shall go forth like a mighty man; He shall stir up His zeal like a man of war. He shall cry out, yes, shout aloud; He shall prevail against his enemies
I used to have a poster I stole from my brother with that verse on it, hanging on my bedroom wall. It was a really sweet piece of art, with a firey Jesus on a horse trampling out the whispy demons, hidden throughout the picture. I can't really describe it well. But I always liked it. What hit me tonight, reading that, was that He's fighting on my behalf! I don't have to win the war. I just have to trust Him.

43:1b-2 Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you.

My rivers and fires haven't been nearly as terrible or difficult as so many others', but I have seen my share of them. And, as the doubt clouds in and the fear floods my soul in the middle of the night, I've seen this promise over and over. I have never been so overwhelmed that I couldn't reach for Him. I have never been so engulfed in flames that I couldn't see the way out. He loves me.
He called my name, and I came to Him, and I belong to Him. How precious.

43:22,25-26 But you have not called upon me, O Jacob; and you have been wary of me, O Israel... but you have burdened me with your sins, you have waried me with your iniquities. I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake; And I will not remember your sins. Put me in remembrance; Let us contend together; State your case, that you may be acquitted.

When I read the part about burdening God with my sins, I felt something in my soul. we've been working on a lot of things lately. And they kind of have been a burden. It was good to read on and know, that he blots out our sin. Not for our sake, but for His, so we can know Him more fully and reflect His light.

There were so many more things. I encourage you to take a look for yourself. Like I said, it's full of great things.

Confessions of a Big-Mouthed Woman

I had this strange dream last night, and the details have become hazy but I think that maybe my brainw as trying to tell me something. In my dream, I had had this conversation with my sister-in-law, and then we went on with the day. Later that night, someone (I think her husband) told me that I had wounded her. And I had no idea how. Then I replayed our conversation and realized that I'd said so many hurtful things.
It didn't really happen. Although I'm sure it has, and I haven't realized it.
I'm not the kind of person who chit-chats just for entertainment or to get to know people. I do that out of necessity because it seems to be what women like to do. When i'm talking with someone, I'd rather just relay important information or share what's on our hearts. Small talk isn't my thing.
But I think in small talk, I say all kinds of things that I don't mean. And I don't even realize it until later. Or never. I want to try to reign it in a little. Say fewer things and think more before I talk. It's something me and God have been discussing lately. (Probably the cause of the dream, since it's been on my mind so much).
If I've done this to you, PLEASE know, I'm not trying to be a jerk. Probably I just said something that came out wrong and I didn't even realize it. Tell me. I'll give you a sincere apology. Tell me if you hear me do it to someone else, for that matter. I'm kind of dense.

Open Mouth

Insert foot.
No matter how old I get, how sensitive I think I'm being, how careful I am, I still have a big mouth. And I'm afraid I always will.

Another winter Story

I was born in Northeast Montana in one of the backwoods hospitals, in the middle of the worst snow storm anyone had seen in years. during my first few days, the snow drifts in the country grew to be ten feet tall. The plow tried to go through, but it broke and turned around, not to return for weeks.
My parents decided to take me out to the farm, where my grandparents were, where my brother was probably waiting to meet his sister. they couldn't drive all the way there, though. They met my grandpa there at the biggest snow drift with a snowmobile. They had me in a little box, wrapped up in blankets, so sure enough, they drove me the last couple of miles on a snowmobile. Four days old. Freezing cold.
That's where I'm from. Maybe that's why I like snow storms.

JJ

Happy Birthday to my whirlwind daughter,
The Stinky-Pants Wonder
Sister indeed
Strong spirited, iron willed
tough-as-nails
Monster hair
Reckless snuggler
Joy of my heart.
Bringer of victory.
Evidence of God's grace,
poured abundantly on our lives

pain and purpose

I apologize for the depressing posts lately. I have one more. Then I think I'll just keep it all bottled up inside after that.

So, I've always liked winter, and it hasn't ever been a super depressing struggle for me to get through. Until three years ago. That year winter lasted for-EVER. Even when it was over, it was still there. It was a long one on the records, and cold and snowy and just depressing for someone who was dealing with grief. And I sat at home a lot, wallowing in sorrow and tears.

Ever since then it hits me around this time of year. I can't figure out if it will ever stop. And like I've said before, I'm not sure I want it to because it's the only little piece I have of my Gracie.

Last week they did a skit for "sanctity of life" Sunday. It was supposed to be this girl who was getting ready to go to earth, and she peeked at her plan that had been written in the book of lives, how she would become a lawyer and raise kids, etc. But then at the end, there was a little note that said, "Although a beautiful plan has been written for her life, it will not come to pass." Then we realized that something on earth had happened, something bad, and she wouldn't make it there....
It was supposed to be an affirmation that life is precious and we should be supporting efforts of people who want to preserve babies' lives.
All I heard was, "Although your baby had a beautiful plan written for her life, it didn't happen."
Yeah. Perfect timing.
Daniel said he cried every time he saw it (he was on the praise band so he saw it four times) and didn't realize til the last time that that was why. Our little baby. Something went wrong. Something I had no control over. And so many pieces of me will always have questions and hurt and doubts. And no one wanted it to be this way.

So. If you see me crying during songs at church or looking a little "blue", just remember. January 29th. Written forever in my heart.

and I know

That the world doesn't revolve around me
that everyone had legitimate reasons for not being able to hang out
that it doesn't matter anyway
that I have lots of really great friends
that my life is so great and I shouldn't complain.

I'm going to blame it on being husband-less all week. And the weather.

Loser

No matter how old I get and what changes in life, I still find myself, so very often, dressed up with no place to go. Throwing parties that no one comes to. Not invited to the ones everyone else is going to. Introducing my friends to each other and finding that they like each other better than me.
Saying or doing something that a friend doesn't like and never hearing from them again.
Apparently I'm just not that fun to hang out with.
And today I'm freaking lonely. And I just wanted to go to a movie with some friends, but, out of at least twenty people, only two could come. And then those two had to change their plans.
And I'm alone.

Lost in Space

Warning: this post contains nothing but complaining. Depression may ensue if you read on.

Ugh. I haven't recovered from "The Holidays" yet.
I think it's getting worse. Maybe it's seasonal affective disorder, or just lack of sunshine in general. Maybe it's some other chemical imbalance.
I'm tired all the time. The 2 year old wakes up at least once a night now, even though she could sleep through the night, she's reprogrammed herself some how. Ugh.
I wander around like a zombie. The last few days I feel like have been a haze. I'm doing the stuff I have scheduled, but I just don't really feel much. Except being annoyed and irritable. Which is great.
And I've been feeling like a complete failure in so many ways. Even if I tell myself it isn't true or it doesn't matter, I still feel like I suck at everything. And, I sort of do.
I guess it's just a "desert time". I have things to learn about myself and new mercies to experience and good things are still happening, but I'm weary. And that's just how it feels today. Maybe tonight I'll sleep well and it will all be OK tomorrow.

Letting Go

I let my daughter stay the night at the neighbor's house tonight. She's only stayed with grandparents before. Definitely harder on Mommy than on her.

This is what letting go feels like
little by little bit by bit
a hug and a kiss and a wave over the shoulder
and then a shrug or nothing
and you'll walk out that door
And a little part of me is sad
and it wants to hold you here forever
with your sweet smile
and your hand in mine
But most of me knows I just have to face it
that little girls grow up
and this is what letting go feels like
losing a little piece of perfection
a moment that can never return
while I am reminded
and you have to learn
that the wonderful world
is full of darkness and danger
and I can't always keep you safe
even while beauty flourishes and little lights still shine
you have to know who you can trust.
And I don't want to do it
not now or ever
i tell myself you aren't ready
while you tell me you are.
and this is what letting go feels like
taking these hearts so easily broken
and putting them into Bigger Hands
while the dangers and darkness swirl around us
while the tides and cultures change
in the midst of time
while I can still hold your tiny hand in mine
I will teach you to let your little light shine.

New Years Eve

when I was in high school, I started a tradition of writing in my journal every New Year's. I'd go through each month and mention something significant that happened.
This year, there was hardly anything significant. The year seems to have blurred into my husband being busy with work and having deployment dates pushed back three times, and endless days with the kids taking me on a roller coaster of every feeling they feel. Looking back its hard to even find any positive monuments in 2010. There were plenty of happy times and joyous moments, but the milestones this year were a different kind.
I joined an in depth Bible study in Feburary, studying the book of John. It was amazing to see things in a different light, things I'd studied and even memorized years earlier. I learned new things about the Holy Spirit and His role in my life, and about the way God views us as His sheep.
In March I enjoyed two getaways, one to the Women of Faith conference in Des Moines, and the other to Tennessee to visit my sister at college.
In the spring I tried my second attempt at gardening, yielding a very small harvest but learned a lot along the way.
The summer was another re-write of four weddings and a funeral (round 2, if you remember back a few years). This time it was family getting married. we enjoyed three beautiful weddings. Both of my husband's cousins who live in town hitched up this year, along with brother #4.
The funeral, of course was Grandma's. I still think about her. Just yesterday I found a picture at my mom's house of her in her crazy folding hat that she wore the last time she went to the parade with us. She was beautiful, and I hope that my life has half of the impact hers did on the world.
My brother deployed, which has made for many times with the empty chair at the family's table staring at us all. I miss him, and worry about him and find myself terribly concerned for his mental and physical welbeing.
Late in the fall, we made a big step on our house project by closing the building permit on the attic remodel. It's been an eternal project, and it still isn't finished. But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm eager to begin 2011. I think the political state of the country is going to continue to be a big issue, and I'm fully expecting everything to get worse than it already is. But, in our little world, there are many joys and wonders to still to experience.
Earlier today Daniel played an old Twila Paris song on the guitar, "God is in control". I felt the truth deep in my heart.

This is no time for fear
This is a time for faith and determination
Don't lose the vision here
Carried away by emotion
Hold on to all that you hide in your heart
There is one thing that has always been true
It holds the world together

God is in control
We believe that His children will not be forsaken
God is in control
We will choose to remember and never be shaken
There is no power above or beside Him, we know
God is in control, oh God is in control

History marches on
There is a bottom line drawn across the ages
Culture can make its plan
Oh, but the line never changes
No matter how the deception may fly
There is one thing that has always been true
It will be true forever

He has never let you down
Why start to worry now?
He is still the Lord of all we see
And He is still the loving Father
Watching over you and me

watching over you...watching over me..
watching over every things..
watching over you..watching over me..
every little sparrow..every little things...

Happy New year everyone! I love you all, whether I know you or not. Thanks for reading!

Christmastime

We've been busy the last few weeks. I'm kind of ready for things to settle down, but given hubby's work schedule, that's not going to happen for a while. But, here's what we've been up to (not in chronological order):


JJ's first Christmas opening presents. She wasn't too excited about it. I'd give her a gift and she'd say "noo." Then I'd open it and she'd grab the toy from me and forget what we were doing.

Black velvet jumpers $2.99 each. Red shirts=hand me downs Matching girls smiling for a picture=priceless. (This was before teh Christmas Eve service).
We made a gingerbread house together a few weeks before Christmas. You can't see a lot of details in this, but that's probably really good. We went with the Aldi's brand this year.
#1 Made a manger scene with her stuffed animals. There's a tiny baby Jesus in the middle. The doll is Mary and the cocker spaniel is Joseph I guess.
Christmas program at church. This was the last year dressing up as little angels. She LOVED it and actually sang this year. "Ring those bells, ring those bells..." That's her BFF to the front right, and two friends' boys on the left. And a pastor's kid on her direct right. It was awesome. I LOVE watching kids sing even if mine isn't up there.

You might notice #2 isn't really in most of these. That's because she's hard to take pictures of. And she mostly just whine and throws fits when we're trying to do activities, rather than participate. Since she's not even 2 yet.

There would be more but I haven't pilfered my sister's camera yet, so I guess that's all for now. Merry Christmas everyone!

What the Heck

Just feel like saying this. Why is it, after like FIVE years of having something posted up on this blog, I am just NOW getting hits and comments about it??

Baby Born to Die

It's been busy around here lately. I'm hoping things slow down soon. I think they should this week. Christmas plans are coming together. My sister gets home tomorrow from Tennessee, and my older brother might actually be able to come home too. He still doesn't know. My family might still go to Montana, though, depending on what the brother does.
I have my packages and cards sent, and just a couple more presents to purchase. This year my in-laws decided to spend time together instead of getting gifts, so we're traveling up to a resort in Wisconsin for a couple of days after Christmas. The kids will play in water parks and we'll hang out together. It should be fun.
Every year there's some song that really captures what I've thought about, and that I don't get sick of hearing after two times. This year I've listened to Bebo Norman's Christmas album a lot. I love his voice and the quiet folk sound, and I love that he uses hammered dulcimer and mandolins, and changes songs into nifty little tunes. There are two songs I like best out of his originals. This one kind of captures it for me. What Christmas means somewhere in my heart, beyond warm feelings and family time and little candies and cookies and wrapping papers and awesome movies. I have to dig it out of there and really think on it, but this helps me do it.

They never knew a dark night
always had the Son's light
on their face
Perfect in glory
Broken by the story
of untold grace...
come that day

Majesty had come down 
Glory had succumbed now 
to flesh and bone
In the arms of a manger
In the hands of strangers
that could not know
Just who they hold

Chorus:
And the angels filled the sky 
All of heaven wondered why
Why their King would choose to be 
Be a baby born to die

And all fell silent 
For the cry of an infant,
the voice of God
Was dividing history
For those with eyes to see,
the Son would shine
From earth that night

Chorus 

Bridge:
To break the chains
Of guilt and sin
To find us here 
To pull us in 
So we can join in Heaven's song
And with one voice around the throne

Chorus:
All the Angels filled the sky
And I can't help but wonder why 
Why this King would choose to be
Be a baby born for me
Be a baby born 
Be a baby born to die

A Winter Tale

I was probably seven years old. We lived in a farm house that my folks rented. While we used the home and the yard, the farm around us operated by Ed Hynek and his family. We were used to having livestock on the property. Dad used the old chicken coop to raise his own goats, and we had a dog. Otherwise, the rest of the livestock was owned and taken care of by the landlord.
On a night after another storm had ripped through, dropping a foot of snow and temperatures down to the zeros, we all stayed in the warm little house together watching movies.
Then the landlord called. He'd asked my dad if he could take care of the animals, since he was snowed in behind drifts.
Mom had kept us inside all through the storm and the next day, saying it was too cold to go out. But now, Dad had said we could go help feed the cows with him. We bundled up in everything we had--extra pants, socks and shirts. Then snow boots, snow pants, thickest coats, mittens and hats. A hood on top of that. And a scarf to tie it all down.
A lot of the details have faded in my memory, but I'll always remember how still and quiet it was. And the stars were out in the black sky, and there was nothing to see or hear in that stillness but snow. It crunched under our feet while we tromped to the barn.
And then the welcoming scent of animals, and the windbreak of the giant white barn. There were two or three barns on the property but we weren't ever allowed to go inside of them. This was the cow barn. Today we climbed up the ladder to the hay loft, and Dad hoisted a couple of hay bails down to the cows below.
I don't know why I remember it so much. Just how cool it was that we were even outside, with negative thirty temps was amazing enough. And then I got to see my dad be something he normally wasn't. It's cool when someone has these hidden talents and smarts that most of the world doesn't get to know about. Mom told me that Ed liked having us live at the house because Dad knew how to handle animals.
Something about these winter storms and the still cold nights that follow always remind me of that first one I remember, bundled up from head to toe, face against the wind, headed to the white barn with my dad and brother. It makes me warm inside, even while I shiver.

Christmas is coming!

I'm not the sort of person who becomes a sappy basket case over Christmas. I haven't been on the edge of my seat since October, waiting to throw in the holiday CD's (still haven't pulled them out), or bringing up boxes of decorations (haven't pulled them out either). But I love it for the simple pleasures, and really don't care about most of the things the general population thinks are so great. So, here are some ways I plan to enjoy this "season".

Church - I just like being at church this time of year and thinking about Christ and the beauty of His Mystery revealed to us.

Packages - I like putting together packages, and this year we have the usual overseas relatives, along with my little brother. Today I got the idea to send him a miniature Christmas tree to decorate (along with xbox controller, candy and hand warmers)

Giving - We have several opportunities this year to get gifts for families who need them. Our class at church is collecting a giant Christmas dinner and gifts for a whole family. And our church is participating in The Advent Conspiracy again this year, which is really awesome. Maybe I'll write more about that another time.

The Missionary Tree - We're doing something new this year, with our little 3-foot tree. I had different missionaries we know and support send a memento from their country, and we're going to use them to decorate the little tree. I also got a garland with globes on it and some extra ornaments with Bible verses. I'm hoping it will be a good thing for the kids to remember our missionaries who they never see. And for me to remember to pray for them.

Decorating - We don't go crazy, but I like to haul out the small decorations we have because they're all full of memories. Plus, it's a great excuse to get organized with the rest of the house and clean it all up. Yesterday I cleaned out the corners of our living room, where things accumulate for no reason.

Poetry - It's not like there are books full of Christmas poetry, at least not ones I enjoy, but I do like to listen to the words of songs and appreciate the deeper meaning behind them. Really, if I made a confession, I'd say how much I HATE Christmas music, but that's mostly because it's nine songs played over and over in whatever genre and mutilation is conceivable. This year, I'll be reading some Tennyson to try and find a good Christmas poem.

Cold Weather - That's about all there is to say about it. I just love it. and all the things it comes with (except for putting up stupid shrink wrap over the windows). Hot chocolate, fireplaces, sweaters, mittens, rosy cheeks, shivering. Scraping the windows. Snow. LOVE IT.

Well I'm sure there are more things, but that's my list right now. What about you? What do you love to do at Christmastime?

Thanksgiving

Yesterday I didn't get a chance to post, on account of being a tthe in-laws all day. I'm so blessed. My family gets to join my in-laws so I don't have to be torn between the two families for Thanksgiving. We had a really nice time this year. The food was good, as usual. But of course, the company we kept was the best. It was a little more sparse this year, but I really enjoyed having time with everyone.
Missed my brothers like nuts. I miss Nathan and Shelly of course, but I've gotten used to their being gone. I really missed my little brother. I cried a lot. In the shower first thing that morning, realizing I would go and watch the parade at my folks' house all alone.
Then we sang at the in-laws, and he's always there every year during hymn time and requests a few songs. I bawled through "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder" because it's always been one of his favorite.
I missed him again today. It's just a lonely feeling when someone who's always been a part of your life isn't there. Harder yet when you know he could die any day. (Hes in Afghanistan in the middle of nowhere and doesn't have showers or computers or internet access or phones. It sucks).
So. That was Thanksgiving. But I had a really good time being with everyone, and I love them all.

Masks

We started a new book in my small group. I'll probably be writing about it a lot. I'm leaving in five minutes to go discuss the new chapter. It's called "Beyond the Masquarade" by Julianna Slattery, and it's about authenticity and what it looks like for a person who walks with God.
The first chapter just discussed masks, how we all have things that we use to cover who we really are. Things we hide behind to keep people from seeing into our hearts. some of them are good things, like being "the helpful one" or "the girl who always smiles" or "a good leader". Those are good attributes, but not healthy when they become so much a part of our identity that we are unable to seperate ourselves from them. When we use them to put up walls between ourselves and others.
I've been thinking about what my masks are this week. It's been hard, really. Partly hard to think of anything that really is a mask. Partly hard just because, no one wants to expose the depths of their soul. Even to herself. Looking deep inside oneself requires an honesty that doesn't come easily. And usually the result is change, which isn't always pain-free either.
So. That's where I'm at now. I'll probably write more in the next week, but life is just really freaking busy right now. I want to spend more time doing this, but it's hard to squeeze it in. Since it's last on my list of priorities.
Anyway, enough about that for now. Hope you're all having a great week, and that you enjoy your holidays.

My New "Friend"

Today my father-in-law took me to the gun show. I didn't know what was going to happen but he told me he wanted to get me an LCR for my brithday/Christmas. Because he's awesome. And I was a little jealous of his own revolver.
This is my new friend. :) I picked this one because I liked the handle fit better. Since most guns are made for men. And it's light-weight, which was really nice for a wimp like me. It has laser sites built in and dual action trigger so I don't have to worry about much if I ever need to use it. Which hopefully never ever happens.I just had to share my joy with someone. And ignore that this is a link. I don't really know why blogger thinks it is.

Nothing much to say

Last week was busy and full. My brother-in-law visited from Asia for the week, so we all hung out a lot. Late. One night he was over and played guitar with my husband. So we were up late singing and talking. Another night he was over and played computer games. And we played bananagrams too. I don't know why I play games with him. We just argue. Another night the whole family was out, which was great. My newest sister-in-law and I got a chance to talk which was great. We planned a skiing trip. :D It was really nice to be together with Nathan too.
It was a good week. But kind of wore me out too. I love that guy, but we get in weird arguments with each other.
I want to write something fantastic tonight, but I don't have anything to say. I'm in a writing mood, but none of my projects are interesting to me right now. And I don't have any great new ideas yet. I tried twice to write a couple of articles for a mom's group newsletter, and they thoroughly sucked. I don't know what's wrong, but I can't seem to focus or think clearly lately.
And I don't feel like reading much either. I've finished a couple of shallow novels, and I have these other nonfiction books on deck, but I can't really focus to read them.
This is just boring rambling but my writing sucks lately so I don't watn to try to put together a meaningful post because it would suck. Maybe later this week.
Times like this I wish I played piano so I could sit and get out all of my artistic angst. Oh well. I think I'll just go to sleep instead.

School Busses and Snowball Fights. And the Dukes.

I grew up with brothers on both sides of me. One two years older, one two years younger. My sister came along when I was seven. So, much of my early childhood was spent playing with legos, guns, and cars. I didn't have barbies until I was about 10. I never owned strawberry Shortcake or Ponies or anything like that. I was at the mercy of my BFF for those things when I stayed at her house.
I was remembering today what we used to do. How my older brothre and I used to play the Dukes of Hazard outside. we'd roll down the windows in the Buick station wagon and hop in. We had a CB radio... I think my folks actually had a real one, but it might have just been fake. Anyway, it was real good fun. We also played the A-Team and probably MacGyver.
My younger brother was different. When i was home with him while my older brother was at school, we played with toys mostly. We loved our Little People, and that was probably what we played with most. We also had this Tupperware bus that came apart into a school, and it had a playground you assembled as well. We played with that a lot too.
I don't suppose that's super relevant. But I've been thinking of my brother, because he's been deployed and will be in Afghanistan for the next 9 months. I think that I was fortunate to grow up with brothers who actually liked me and hung out with me.
We played board games a lot, and still do. And there were the snowball fights. After Dave hit his growth spurt, he was six foot four. And every year, it got harder and harder to dupe him in the snowball world. He's a formidable foe.
Sometimes he calls me up when the snow just starts to melt and invites us all out for a snowball fight. I don't know why I bother, because we get clobbered.
This post doesn't have much of a point. Except that I'm going to miss him. He's always around. He drives an hour down from college to be there whenever family's in town, for birthdays or holidays or whenever he feels like it. And this year, there will be a lot of empty nights at the folk's house this year. Even though we all argue with each other, I think we're about as tightly-knit as it comes.
I just hope that those years of A-Team, Batman, and Cowboys pays off for him some way in the battle field.

I Spy with My Little Eye

A pumpkin pie!
Okay. Lameness. We grew a garden this year, and most of it, I really just screwed up. I accidentaly uprooted the peas right after they started producing; I didn't think the carrots so they were all grainy and dry; the spinach got eaten by rabbits and didn't taste that good anyway; the watermellon didn't even make it past sprouts. The corn got blown over by a bad storm, and I lifted it back up and propped them up with wires, but then the bugs got to the corn when it sprouted, and then the ones that made it got attacked by racoons and hail. So. The one thing that made it and overflowed in abundance were pumpkins. We also had asparagus but since it was the first year, we couldn't eat them. They just had to sprout and spread and then they'll grow back every year.
I don't even like pumpkins. We had a lot because I thought the transplants weren't going to make it, so I planted extra seeds in the mounds, and then they all made it and overgrew the entire garden.
Anyway, all that to say. Today was rainy and windy, so I thought "what a great day to use these pumpkins!" I brought in a couple, but after doing the work with two kids on one of the pumpkins, I decided that was enough work and not to do another. The seeds are slimy and I don't even like them but my husband does, so i kept them to roast later.
I baked the pumpkin and scooped out the pulp with the help of my three-year-old. Fiasco. Blended it, and then followed a recipe to make a pie.
I love pumpkin pie, but I don't love pumpkin. Dessert shouldn't taste like vegitables. I like the canned kind better. Ha.
But my husband likes it. The kids will like it too. So I guess it was worth it. but too stressful to really do it again. If anyone wants to try their own, I have two pumpkins left. :)

The AWOL Blogger

Augh! You know what drives me nuts? when people start a blog and don't finish it. Not a blog entry, but an actual blog. Like... you find this great reading and you really like it, and then it peters off and doesn't exist anymore. No goodbye. No referral to another site. Just no more posts. I hate it! Just complaining.
I had a friend who was writing this great story on his blog. Then he stopped and never finished it. Drives me nuts!

Getting off [my butt]

So. Lately I've been realizing how "unmotivated" I've been. And realizing how Christians re-label things that are actually sinful, making them sound less so. Such as the aforementioned example. Laziness? Yeah. That's me. I'm freaking tired. And I hate how messy my house is and the general chaos around me, but I'm lazy and don't fix it whenI have the chance, and then I live with it longer, and it actually becomes a bigger problem and more exhausting to deal with.
And I've noticed that it seeps into every area of my life, when I let it take over in one. Like, if I'm too lazy to clean my house, I'm also too lazy to go do my Bible study or play with my kids. And when I'm too lazy for things like that, I get exhausted rather than energized by those things, and then I'm even more lazy about everything else in life. I stop putting forth effort in anything, actually. And then I sit and take naps and really don't get a lot done.
So. Here's the thing. I've been kind of convicted actually. To stop calling it "unmotivated" or "tired" and just call it lazy. And, in calling it that, realize that it's wrong to be lazy. Not only is it stupid and makes me into a more worthless person, but it's actually something God doesn't like. This "word of wisdom" came to mind:

Proverbs 6
⁴ Allow no sleep to your eyes,
no slumber to your eyelids.

⁵ Free yourself, like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter,
like a bird from the snare of the fowler.

⁶ Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!

⁷ It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,

⁸ yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest.

⁹ How long will you lie there, you sluggard?
When will you get up from your sleep?

¹⁰ A little sleep, a little slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest-

¹¹ and poverty will come on you like a bandit
and scarcity like an armed man.

Of course we don't see it like that in our society. But I think I want to. I want to be industrious and useful and make the most of my time. Not with things that are outside of my abilities and desires, but with daily things I need to do and with things I do enjoy.

So that's all I have on that for now. Just felt like sharing. Maybe I will share my steps of action next. Because I have some. And one includes getting off the computer more often. :)

Innocence and Dreams

This was supposed to be posted last week, but I got busy and then I was sick so I'm just now getting a chance to say it. Sorry. I know you all hang on my every word.

On Infant Loss Remembrance Day, you get to think about the baby or babies you lost. It's a bittersweet thing, because it's hard to remember those few precious moments, and yet, it seems as if so many things try to push those memories out of your mind as every year passes.
When you lose an adult child, or one who's lived a few years, you have so many more memories. So many more unfulfilled dreams and mementos left behind. And no one expects you to "forget" or "move on". They don't tell you "at least you have other kids" or "God just couldn't stand to be separated from him, he was so special" or stupid things like that (they think of other stupid things to say in that situation).
When you lose an infant, what's mostly lost is innocence and dreams. You lose the innocence of sweet thoughts and baby bundles and all of the cute things you do when you're pregnant. You lose the innocence of a good night's sleep, and of daydreaming. Because you know all of that can be gone in just a few moments.
And you lose your dreams. When a baby is born, he is just a big bundle of potential. You get to wonder about what they'll like, who they'll marry, what their personality will be, which parent they'll look like. And, as they grow, you see those thoughts and dreams and questions fulfilled.
When a baby dies, you don't even get a glimpse of those things. You just wish, and wish harder for it all to come back. For the chance to wonder and imagine.
The site I pulled that butterfly from is dedicated to remembrance of little ones. She makes butterflies in the sand, because the beautiful creatures are never around for very long before they float away into the sky and you never see them again.
But a baby never truly goes away. Don't ever look at a woman who lost a baby and think, "She's probably gotten over it by now." Once a mother, always a mother. Once a dream, always a dream.

Lap of Loser Luxury

So... I really don't have anything to say. Two weeks ago and several weeks prior to that, I went into "work widow" mode because my husband started having to put in late hours at work. He had a big demo for the big military folks and other customers and they weren't ready so it was rush rush rush. Now that let up for a couple of weeks, but I think it will pick up again here soon.
So, I've been filling my time doing what any self-respecting housewife would. Eating chocolate, gallivanting around the city on random errands that really could have waited, and, at night, watching seasons 5 and 6 of "Little House on the Prairie" and "Star Trek the next Generation" while indulging in frozen cookies from Schwans. Don't hate. It's just wholesome entertainment.
So.
Today I went to Half-Price books and picked up a stack of books. Two in a series I've been reading over the last few years, and then, because of my aforementioned television interests, 4 Little House on the Prairie books. I've wanted to have them around for my kids anyway, but I thought it would be fun to read them. Takes like a day. I haven't read any of them since 4th grade, I'm pretty sure, so I guess it wouldn't hurt.
Today I amused myself by thinking of Douglas Adams quotes to insert into daily life. "LIfe. Don't talk to me about life. It's too depressing."
It isn't too depressing, in fact, it feels pretty good.

And this is a really random post.
I deemed this week "Significant other week" because we got to meet two of our siblings' "others". Brother #5 brought a girl home for the weekend and took her to a house-raising party that we were at (think 7 brides for 7 brothers. Only there were three brothers there and a dad. And then another family of 8. Yeah. We have a great time). So I got to meet that lovely lady, and again at a family meeting we held at Taco Bell on Sunday, in which we discussed Christmas plans. She didn't discuss. She just watched us. Fortunately (?) only 2/3 of us were actually there, so maybe it was less intimidating. She didn't seem intimidated, anyway.
My sister got home on Sunday with her boy in tow. I met him for five seconds when I visited her last spring. He impressed me then, and he seems like a pretty great guy in 3 hours time too. Tomorrow we're all going to the apple orchard together and having Chinese at mom's in the evening. It should be great.
That's about all I have to say. I just felt like it was time to check in and write something, since it's been a while. Now you know. Life just ain't too exciting around here.