I haven't taken the time to write the following down yet, because it's not really public knowledge. However, I figure that most of my "following" already knows, and those who don't, are bound to find out soon anyway. I want to get these things down before I forget them.
It's hard to say where this story starts, but I keep thinking back to the miscarriage I had in January of 2009. I was not prepared for that pregnancy, Daniel was still very young, and I was trying to finish my teaching degree. In all honesty, it took me a little while to accept the idea of another baby so soon...until we saw the heartbeat at 8 weeks. And then the excitement blossomed. We started thinking of names, making plans, talking to Timmy about another brother or sister, and then.. Only a couple of short weeks later we lost the baby.
I went through a variety of feelings, from guilt at not being initially thrilled at being pregnant...like it was my fault for not accepting it at first, to being angry, very angry with God. I felt like He was toying with me. It took a very long time for me to emotionally come to terms with what had happened. I had no idea that it would be over 2 years before we had any more success with "fertility". In August of this year (2011) I finally had a positive pregnancy test, but it didn't last long. By the next day the tests were fading quickly, and were showing negative by the evening.
I tried to convince myself that only a day or two shouldn't bother me much. I had pre-school to prepare for and other things to think about. But I didn't talk to God about it, because in my heart I was angry again, confused, and maybe a little scared at what He might tell me. I avoided God. Sure, I went to church, and did meal time prayers, but intimate thoughts and close Bible studies I fled from. I convinced myself that I didn't have time to dwell on it.
I give all of this history, some personal, some that I have never shared before, because this past leads up to some amazing ways God has touched me. The first weekend in November I had the opportunity to go on a Women's retreat with some friends from church. When we arrived I looked at the schedule. On the last day I noticed that it said "Personal Retreat". My heart leaped. No more excuses, that intimate time with God was being handed to me. I went through the retreat, listening, praying, laughing. By Saturday afternoon I went from dreading that personal time to looking forward to it. I got nervous just thinking about it...I hadn't TALKED to God, and I hadn't LISTENED to Him in quite awhile.
When the time came we went from having over 30 minutes, to just having 15 for our personal retreat. I was disappointed. I was sure that what I had to tell God and what He had to tell me would take more than 15 measly minutes. But I decided to make the most of it, forgetting that God operates in his own time. I found a wooded area where I could be alone, and I started to cry. I let it all out, my anger, my confusion, my guilt at being angry and not trusting. Asking what I was supposed to do, begging for answers, wondering if I should hope for more children, or if God was telling me to move on. And then I was quiet. One time, many years ago, I performed the "Bible-page flip" to seek answers. I was in highschool, and in a relationship that wasn't spectacular, but being a teenager, didn't know what to do. I did the Bible flip thing and God gave me some very clear directions. So, on this day, I decided to give it another try.
Tentatively I began flipping the pages of my Bible with my eyes closed. Not sure what I would find, but trusting that God's word would give me SOMETHING even if it wasn't completely clear. The leaves rustled in the trees, a few birds chirped cheerful greetings to one another, unaware of the emotional struggle taking place beneath them. God's word gently breathed on my cheek as I let the pages quickly slip by my thumb. I stopped, and with my eyes still closed, blindly jabbed my finger somewhere in the middle of the page. Luke 24:36 "Peace be with you". The page is still wrinkled from the wetness of my tears. Oh the love of my God, to forgive me, and comfort me. To put his arm around me and hold me with his word, promising to give me peace.
A few days before Thanksgiving Daniel crawled into bed with me, stroked my hair, and said, "Mommy, I want a little sister baby, okay?" I smiled and told him that would be nice, and gave him a little hug. Timmy has shared a similar wish in the past, so I thought maybe Daniel had picked up on it, even though it had been awhile since Timmy had said anything. Never the less, the day after Thanksgiving (yes, black Friday), I did a pregnancy test, and it came up positive.
Feelings of excitement and fear swirled through my head. I attempted to put into practice the idea of "hoping for the best, being prepared for the worst". I got into the doctor right away and the lab results all looked positive. Over the course of two weeks we continued blood-work, doctor's appointments and supplements. We have been very careful to not say anything to the boys until we get a little farther along. However, Daniel continues to amaze us. The week after Thanksgiving I was cleaning out the bathroom cabinets. I came across some of Daniel's unused swim diapers (because we threw the used ones away :-) I gathered them together and put them all in one bag. Daniel walked in and asked me what they were. I told him, and said that he used to use them when he was a baby, but he doesn't need them anymore. He matter of factly said, "Oh, okay, well, you can just save them in there for my sister baby that I talked to God about." After I picked my jaw up off of the floor, I put the diapers back in the cabinet and walked out of the bathroom.
A few days later we had our first snow. Daniel made a series of little snowmen. He informed me that he had made "Mommy, Daddy, Timmy, Me, and my little sister baby". This child, who is a very typically ego-centric 4 year old, that doesn't like sharing his Mommy with anybody will NOT stop talking about his "sister baby". Whether we come across baby toys in the store or happen across pictures of babies, Daniel gets a sweet little smile on his face and starts talking about it.
This past Friday we had the first ultrasound done. I dropped Timmy off at school and Daniel off at a friend's house. On the way, the fuse blew in my van that runs the radio. I mentioned it to Rick and he said that I would just have to sing to myself. I wasn't entirely amused by his suggestion. However, as I drove down the interstate, the silence began to get to me. I was extremely nervous about what the ultrasound would reveal. I wanted to be hopeful, but at the same time I was trying to figure out how to prepare myself for bad news. I began to sing, first "How Great Thou Art", and then "I am Trusting You Lord Jesus," and finally Mary's Magnificant, that I had the good fortune of knowing due to singing it at Advent service over the last 3 weeks. Even though I tried to tell myself that I should be a little scared and worried, by the time I reached the Doctor's office, I wasn't....I was at peace. The ultrasound a strong heartbeat and a baby growing at exactly the right rate. In fact, according to the ultrasound, this precious life began growing on the same day I wrote about in my previous blog entry (you'll have to read it if you haven't already).
We might need to officially inform the boys sooner rather than later. Yesterday, Daniel had some pacifiers and told Timmy that he was saving them for....you guessed it, his sister baby. Timmy looks at me and says, "is that true? Is what Daniel said true?" I squirmed, not wanting to lie, not wanting to confirm anything yet and resorted to, "uuuhmmm, Daniel thinks it's true" and quickly changed the subject. When we do tell them I have no doubt that Daniel won't be the least bit surprised. We are still holding off. At least for a little while. I realistically know that my history of miscarriage results in a strong risk. But I am hopeful that Daniel in fact knows more than any of us. And I know that while in my weakness I may have doubts, God in his strength will give me peace no matter what happens.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
So much more
I love deer hunting. With my Dad being a hunter, I don't know how the joy of it eluded me for so long, but now that I have found it, I'm hooked. Someone commented to me the other day that she doesn't know how somebody can sit in one spot for hours waiting for a deer to come through...I understand, it's not for everyone. But to me, it's so much more than waiting for a deer. Sure, there's the thrill of actually shooting one, there is little that can compare to that kind of excitement. However, it is also so much more.
On Saturday morning I began my hunt. I hadn't really scouted this specific area yet, so I started by walking along the edge of a small ravine. In a dead, hollowed out tree inches in front of me I caught a flicker of tawny and white feathers. I peered through a crack, and said, "hello little bird". The smallest owl I have ever seen locked his big round eyes with mine. He cocked his head to the side, obviously not overly concerned about my presence. I smiled, remembering the "owl" game my Grandma Denniston used to play with my brother and me. In a flash, he was gone, taking flight on silent wings.
I eventually found a place to sit down and wait to see if something should wander by. The hush that had fallen over the woods slowly made way to the chirping of birds and the rustling of creatures unseen. I took in the blue jays calling to each other, swooping from one gray tree to another.
After sitting long enough for my bottom to get sore I stood up and followed a game trail. Trying to make sense of deer scrapes and rubbings, I picked my way along, hoping I would come up with something conclusive. One, single, lonely yellow butterfly, daring winter to come along and end it's happiness, fluttered on the brisk morning wind. I followed it, fantasizing that it was leading me to a secret deer hideout. Ignoring the silliness of such a notion, I continued along in the direction it went. A pheasant burst out of the brush just beneath my feet. I startled the woods into silence, and myself into a pounding heart with a rather loud screech.
Up ahead the brush began to rustle, something bigger than a squirrel (more to come on the squirrels....) was moving quickly through the dry underbrush. Unless the deer was crawling on its knees, I knew it had to be something else making so much noise. And then, through the top of the grass, a blue and red head popped up, let out a little gobble, popped back down, and pursued its noisy path. I pretended like I was hunting him for a little while. On the other side of the river I saw the turkey's real hunter: a big beautiful tan coyote. I had always pictured coyotes as mangy and forlorn creatures, like Mr. Wile. E. Coyote. This animal couldn't have been further from such a description. Obviously well fed on turkey, or deer, or both, he silently prowled along the edge of the river, spotting me, and taking off.
I made my way to another post, one where deer had been routinely spotted and reported. I settled in to wait for a deer to wander by, wishing I could slow down the inevitable sunset just a little. I had three clear views of directions I knew the deer had been coming from. I thought my chances were pretty good. What I didn't take into consideration was Agent S. Q. Whirl. I am convinced that squirrels are the secret agents of the woodlands. It wasn't long until one had spotted me. He hopped across the branches over to me and stared me down. I almost broke under the pressure, but managed to maintain my composure. He started the interrogation. Nonstop chattering, grunting, and snuffling, much of which I am sure were completely unacceptable curse words. He flicked his tail in irritation and looked like he was going to go super squirrel ninja on me at any second. I avoided eye contact and wondered what defense such a tiny creature could possibly have. And then it occurred to me: being as annoying as possible. Mr. Whirl took off and circled the woods along the tree branches, tattling the whole time about the hunter he saw spotted at the top of the hill. You know that scene in Bambi where the critters all start yelling "hunter in the woods! hunter in the woods!"? Well, I have no doubt that it was a squirrel that started the rumor. Needless to say, I did not see any deer that night, but I blame the squirrel.
Sunset settled in, the sounds of night time animals making their way out of their burrows reached my ears. I bowed to my tattler as I departed, he refused to accept the compliment and chattered at me one last time.
I still have several more days to find and shoot a deer. But if I don't, I will never consider such a venture wasted. It is about so much more...
On Saturday morning I began my hunt. I hadn't really scouted this specific area yet, so I started by walking along the edge of a small ravine. In a dead, hollowed out tree inches in front of me I caught a flicker of tawny and white feathers. I peered through a crack, and said, "hello little bird". The smallest owl I have ever seen locked his big round eyes with mine. He cocked his head to the side, obviously not overly concerned about my presence. I smiled, remembering the "owl" game my Grandma Denniston used to play with my brother and me. In a flash, he was gone, taking flight on silent wings.
I eventually found a place to sit down and wait to see if something should wander by. The hush that had fallen over the woods slowly made way to the chirping of birds and the rustling of creatures unseen. I took in the blue jays calling to each other, swooping from one gray tree to another.
After sitting long enough for my bottom to get sore I stood up and followed a game trail. Trying to make sense of deer scrapes and rubbings, I picked my way along, hoping I would come up with something conclusive. One, single, lonely yellow butterfly, daring winter to come along and end it's happiness, fluttered on the brisk morning wind. I followed it, fantasizing that it was leading me to a secret deer hideout. Ignoring the silliness of such a notion, I continued along in the direction it went. A pheasant burst out of the brush just beneath my feet. I startled the woods into silence, and myself into a pounding heart with a rather loud screech.
Up ahead the brush began to rustle, something bigger than a squirrel (more to come on the squirrels....) was moving quickly through the dry underbrush. Unless the deer was crawling on its knees, I knew it had to be something else making so much noise. And then, through the top of the grass, a blue and red head popped up, let out a little gobble, popped back down, and pursued its noisy path. I pretended like I was hunting him for a little while. On the other side of the river I saw the turkey's real hunter: a big beautiful tan coyote. I had always pictured coyotes as mangy and forlorn creatures, like Mr. Wile. E. Coyote. This animal couldn't have been further from such a description. Obviously well fed on turkey, or deer, or both, he silently prowled along the edge of the river, spotting me, and taking off.
I made my way to another post, one where deer had been routinely spotted and reported. I settled in to wait for a deer to wander by, wishing I could slow down the inevitable sunset just a little. I had three clear views of directions I knew the deer had been coming from. I thought my chances were pretty good. What I didn't take into consideration was Agent S. Q. Whirl. I am convinced that squirrels are the secret agents of the woodlands. It wasn't long until one had spotted me. He hopped across the branches over to me and stared me down. I almost broke under the pressure, but managed to maintain my composure. He started the interrogation. Nonstop chattering, grunting, and snuffling, much of which I am sure were completely unacceptable curse words. He flicked his tail in irritation and looked like he was going to go super squirrel ninja on me at any second. I avoided eye contact and wondered what defense such a tiny creature could possibly have. And then it occurred to me: being as annoying as possible. Mr. Whirl took off and circled the woods along the tree branches, tattling the whole time about the hunter he saw spotted at the top of the hill. You know that scene in Bambi where the critters all start yelling "hunter in the woods! hunter in the woods!"? Well, I have no doubt that it was a squirrel that started the rumor. Needless to say, I did not see any deer that night, but I blame the squirrel.
Sunset settled in, the sounds of night time animals making their way out of their burrows reached my ears. I bowed to my tattler as I departed, he refused to accept the compliment and chattered at me one last time.
I still have several more days to find and shoot a deer. But if I don't, I will never consider such a venture wasted. It is about so much more...
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Seeking
Seeking the right words, they sit on the edge of my mind and flit away, like a bird caught in the corner of my eye, but as I turn my head, it's wings carry it away before I even know if I really saw it. Emotions tearing my heart apart as I pray for hope but fear for loss. A child, one of God's beautiful creations, five weeks from taking his first breath, taken, suddenly...without reason, explanation, or comfort. I accepted the honor just moments before, not even 2 days, a breath in God's time, to help guide this little one in the knowledge and truth of his creator's grace. A promise in my heart to love, pray, and protect this child any time he needed me. And in the moment that he was in need the most, there was nothing I could do, nothing anybody could do. And I sit here helpless, remembering the light, joy, and hope this little child brought to those that waited so long for him. I grasp fleetingly at the light as it turns to darkness, sadness, despair. God, grant this little one your grace and mercy, grant those that love him peace and comfort, I pray for him as I promised, I pray for his family as there is nothing else to do.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Okaaaaay
I had an.....interesting, dream last night. There were so many details I remembered and it was SO quirky, I just had to write it out.
Dusk was approaching. My friend Jessica had been giving me reports of this monster buck that lives on her property, and had invited me to come out and shoot it (this part is true, and is what I am guessing spawned the dream). Anyway, it was almost dusk, the sun was going down, there was no wind. My friend, Jessica, and my other friends, Hope and Lisa, were sitting on Jessica's front porch. They each were sitting comfortably in freshly painted white rockers. They held steaming cups of cider that Jess had brewed up and they were wrapped up in blankets that Lisa had knitted. Hope strummed a few notes on her guitar. I headed over to the fence in my camouflage, rifle ready. Lisa "GO get 'em, Big Shot!" Lisa whisper/shouted (this is only possible in a dream, she was whispering so she wouldn't scare the deer, but I clearly heard her from 100 yards away).
I settled in to a little corner between a bush and the fence. Suddenly a large doe approached me, but I was there for the buck, so I didn't take aim. "Are you looking for something?" she said to me. I was a little surprised, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to converse with a deer I told her that I had heard about a buck with big antlers roaming the area. "Oh, well, that might be my son, Spirit, but he should know that it's hunting season, he wouldn't be wearing his antlers right now." Of course, that would be dumb to wear antlers during hunting season, he was probably keeping them on the top shelf of his closet.
Then the doe called up Spirit (such a great deer name, isn't it?). I don't know how she did it, the impression was that it was like calling on a cell phone, but I didn't see her holding one in her hoof. Maybe it was a blue tooth device...."Spirit, honey, there's a nice young lady here wanting to shoot a buck with big antlers, you haven't been wearing yours have you?" I couldn't hear his response...then she said, "NO, no, honey I'm not telling you to put ON your antlers, it's not THAT time yet, I just wanted to be sure you didn't have them...what's that? Joe has been wearing his? He should know better....okay, bye". Joe isn't such a great deer name, but apparently he wasn't very bright as far as deer go if he was wearing his antlers during the "wrong" time.
The doe starts to trot over to my car, "let's go look for him" she says. This seemed perfectly natural, so I followed. She drove up the road to the neighbor's house. "I'm not supposed to hunt here, I don't have permission for this property".
She looks at me with a sideways glance "it's okay, Darlin', you're with me and I'm driving, deer don't have boundaries." So we drive up to the lot and see that something has killed some of the chickens in the coop (this is also an actual fact from my real life, something HAS been killing the neighbors chickens but they don't know what, it's a mystery). Wanting to take advantage of being able to talk to the deer, I decide to try and get some insider knowledge, maybe SHE knows what's been killing the chickens and I can let the owners know. So, tentatively, I say "something's been killing the chickens". She replies, "Yup, sure has, it's a mystery." Uhmmm, okay, I try a different tact, "Well, hasn't any body ASKED the chickens?" She looks at me like I'm crazy, "chickens don't talk". Oh, of course, silly me.
We leave the neighbor's and turn back to Jessica's. As we approach there is a buck and a doe standing at the edge of the trees. He's got a whole bunch of antlers! They look a little strange in the shadows, kind of all bunched up together, so I get closer. The doe tells me this is Joe (dojo?). Upon closer inspection I see that Joe's antlers aren't actually antlers, they are little pine trees. I don't know what to do. He is a BIG buck...kind of stupid looking, but big, lots of meet. These aren't exactly the antlers I was expecting though. I hope the doe can help me make the decision, "So, you would be okay if I killed Joe?" She raises her deery eyebrows, "Oh, please do, he's no good for our species. Besides this way you can have Christmas dinner AND a Christmas tree in one shot!"
And that's where the dream ends.....It was just too strange and had way too many details for me to not share it, so there you go. Thanks for cheering me on, ladies, I hope you enjoyed the show.
Dusk was approaching. My friend Jessica had been giving me reports of this monster buck that lives on her property, and had invited me to come out and shoot it (this part is true, and is what I am guessing spawned the dream). Anyway, it was almost dusk, the sun was going down, there was no wind. My friend, Jessica, and my other friends, Hope and Lisa, were sitting on Jessica's front porch. They each were sitting comfortably in freshly painted white rockers. They held steaming cups of cider that Jess had brewed up and they were wrapped up in blankets that Lisa had knitted. Hope strummed a few notes on her guitar. I headed over to the fence in my camouflage, rifle ready. Lisa "GO get 'em, Big Shot!" Lisa whisper/shouted (this is only possible in a dream, she was whispering so she wouldn't scare the deer, but I clearly heard her from 100 yards away).
I settled in to a little corner between a bush and the fence. Suddenly a large doe approached me, but I was there for the buck, so I didn't take aim. "Are you looking for something?" she said to me. I was a little surprised, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to converse with a deer I told her that I had heard about a buck with big antlers roaming the area. "Oh, well, that might be my son, Spirit, but he should know that it's hunting season, he wouldn't be wearing his antlers right now." Of course, that would be dumb to wear antlers during hunting season, he was probably keeping them on the top shelf of his closet.
Then the doe called up Spirit (such a great deer name, isn't it?). I don't know how she did it, the impression was that it was like calling on a cell phone, but I didn't see her holding one in her hoof. Maybe it was a blue tooth device...."Spirit, honey, there's a nice young lady here wanting to shoot a buck with big antlers, you haven't been wearing yours have you?" I couldn't hear his response...then she said, "NO, no, honey I'm not telling you to put ON your antlers, it's not THAT time yet, I just wanted to be sure you didn't have them...what's that? Joe has been wearing his? He should know better....okay, bye". Joe isn't such a great deer name, but apparently he wasn't very bright as far as deer go if he was wearing his antlers during the "wrong" time.
The doe starts to trot over to my car, "let's go look for him" she says. This seemed perfectly natural, so I followed. She drove up the road to the neighbor's house. "I'm not supposed to hunt here, I don't have permission for this property".
She looks at me with a sideways glance "it's okay, Darlin', you're with me and I'm driving, deer don't have boundaries." So we drive up to the lot and see that something has killed some of the chickens in the coop (this is also an actual fact from my real life, something HAS been killing the neighbors chickens but they don't know what, it's a mystery). Wanting to take advantage of being able to talk to the deer, I decide to try and get some insider knowledge, maybe SHE knows what's been killing the chickens and I can let the owners know. So, tentatively, I say "something's been killing the chickens". She replies, "Yup, sure has, it's a mystery." Uhmmm, okay, I try a different tact, "Well, hasn't any body ASKED the chickens?" She looks at me like I'm crazy, "chickens don't talk". Oh, of course, silly me.
We leave the neighbor's and turn back to Jessica's. As we approach there is a buck and a doe standing at the edge of the trees. He's got a whole bunch of antlers! They look a little strange in the shadows, kind of all bunched up together, so I get closer. The doe tells me this is Joe (dojo?). Upon closer inspection I see that Joe's antlers aren't actually antlers, they are little pine trees. I don't know what to do. He is a BIG buck...kind of stupid looking, but big, lots of meet. These aren't exactly the antlers I was expecting though. I hope the doe can help me make the decision, "So, you would be okay if I killed Joe?" She raises her deery eyebrows, "Oh, please do, he's no good for our species. Besides this way you can have Christmas dinner AND a Christmas tree in one shot!"
And that's where the dream ends.....It was just too strange and had way too many details for me to not share it, so there you go. Thanks for cheering me on, ladies, I hope you enjoyed the show.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Full boxes
Well folks, this post will be a touch more depressing than my typical posts. Mostly I need to get some ideas off of my chest. Who knows, maybe by the end of it, the whole thing will take a different turn. I hated outlining my stories in school, I liked to see where they would take me, not where I would take them. Maybe this blog posting will be the same way.
So, here's the deal. I have all of these boxes, lots and lots of them. I have held onto them because I don't want to give up hope, but I'm beginning to wonder if they are full boxes of stuff, but empty of hope. When do I give up the boxes, let go of them because they are simply taking up too much space? What are these boxes you might wonder. They are boxes of my boys' clothing. I have held onto them because I keep thinking I might need them again someday soon. It wasn't really very long after I stored away Timmy's things that I was pulling them out again for Daniel. The rotation system was perfect...about the time I would need to put shoes Timmy had grown out of into a box, I could take out a previous pair that Daniel would now fit into. This particular box, the "shoe box", is the one box that isn't labeled by year, it just holds all of the shoes. So now, Daniel keeps growing out of shoes, which means that they SHOULD go into the shoe box, but it's getting too full. Too full of empty shoes with nobody to wear them.
And now I need to come to a decision: do I get another box going for shoes because this one is too full? Or do I just simply start getting rid of them. Both choices are too painful. So there are a variety of "too small shoes" hiding in corners of each room in the house. I ignore them, thinking that maybe someday they'll have a somebody to wear them again.
And then there are the clothes. Before I could empty one box of Timmy's old clothes for Daniel, then put Timmy's recently outgrown clothes into that box and not have to buy any more containers. Well, with both boys growing out of clothes that need to go into boxes, and nobody around to empty the other ones, I need to buy more boxes...or just send the clothes on their way. Full boxes of empty promises.
I need to do something. I have ignored the problem for too long hoping that it would solve itself, but it's not. And I need to accept the possibility that it never will. There is not point in keeping 10 rubbermaid containers full of clothes that will never be worn. So I will probably donate them. And then if I am blessed with another child I will just have to have a babyshower....who doesn't like to buy clothes for a baby anyway? So do I get rid of the toys and furniture too....the crib?!? Ow. It's a good thing I have a big garage. Maybe the boxes can just sit in there for awhile longer.
So, here's the deal. I have all of these boxes, lots and lots of them. I have held onto them because I don't want to give up hope, but I'm beginning to wonder if they are full boxes of stuff, but empty of hope. When do I give up the boxes, let go of them because they are simply taking up too much space? What are these boxes you might wonder. They are boxes of my boys' clothing. I have held onto them because I keep thinking I might need them again someday soon. It wasn't really very long after I stored away Timmy's things that I was pulling them out again for Daniel. The rotation system was perfect...about the time I would need to put shoes Timmy had grown out of into a box, I could take out a previous pair that Daniel would now fit into. This particular box, the "shoe box", is the one box that isn't labeled by year, it just holds all of the shoes. So now, Daniel keeps growing out of shoes, which means that they SHOULD go into the shoe box, but it's getting too full. Too full of empty shoes with nobody to wear them.
And now I need to come to a decision: do I get another box going for shoes because this one is too full? Or do I just simply start getting rid of them. Both choices are too painful. So there are a variety of "too small shoes" hiding in corners of each room in the house. I ignore them, thinking that maybe someday they'll have a somebody to wear them again.
And then there are the clothes. Before I could empty one box of Timmy's old clothes for Daniel, then put Timmy's recently outgrown clothes into that box and not have to buy any more containers. Well, with both boys growing out of clothes that need to go into boxes, and nobody around to empty the other ones, I need to buy more boxes...or just send the clothes on their way. Full boxes of empty promises.
I need to do something. I have ignored the problem for too long hoping that it would solve itself, but it's not. And I need to accept the possibility that it never will. There is not point in keeping 10 rubbermaid containers full of clothes that will never be worn. So I will probably donate them. And then if I am blessed with another child I will just have to have a babyshower....who doesn't like to buy clothes for a baby anyway? So do I get rid of the toys and furniture too....the crib?!? Ow. It's a good thing I have a big garage. Maybe the boxes can just sit in there for awhile longer.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Forgiveness
The message of today: forgiveness...it was said over and over again during church. Forgive those that have wronged you, with no limit, unconditionally. How many times must I forgive Him Father? 70 x 7, or, to one young innocent child sitting at the feet of her Pastor "a long ways away". Yes, a long ways away, so far away we can't see it anymore. Oh how difficult this forgiveness can be to send off these "wrongs" to the horizon, especially on a day like today.
And then in Bible study we hear of Joseph. Perhaps naive, perhaps not, but fulfilling God's plan none the less.
I think of how naive Timmy can be, how he states facts simply because they are facts, not thinking anyone would take offense to them. And I think of Joseph, talking about his dreams, excitedly, oblivious to the anger he his roiling up in his brothers. How he trustingly traveled 60 miles to meet up with them, only to be thrown in a pit and sold off to slavery.
And how, in the end, when he forgives them he tells them that it was not THEM that had done these things to him, but God. Joseph doesn't have an ounce of resentment towards his brothers. Oh, how I pray for this peace! We look at Joseph's forgiveness and how much it is like God's forgiveness to us: unconditional, without hesitation, with complete and total love, despite all that has been done wrong.
There's always something, usually simple, that jumps out and speaks volumes to me when going through these Bible studies. This time was no different. We are talking about this parallel: Joseph, like God, forgives his brothers, as God forgives us. Then Joseph sends his brothers to get their families. He sends them on a journey together. What is the last thing he says to them? "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." At first this made me giggle....not, "Safe travels", or "Love you, see you soon", or even, "God's peace." How well Joseph must have known his brothers! And how well God knows us. He not only cares about our relationship with Him, but our relationship with each other as we go on this journey through life, "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." Joseph had loved his brothers so much, and had forgiven them in that love, that he wanted them to experience the same love for one another. So it is with God and us, He wants us to love each other as He loves us.
Sometimes, no, often times, it is hard to see the good in eachother, to not find fault, to not gossip or quarrel. But that is God's wish for us, and so, as I pray for forgiveness, and the strength to forgive, I pray for the ability to not quarrel. What a word!
And then in Bible study we hear of Joseph. Perhaps naive, perhaps not, but fulfilling God's plan none the less.
I think of how naive Timmy can be, how he states facts simply because they are facts, not thinking anyone would take offense to them. And I think of Joseph, talking about his dreams, excitedly, oblivious to the anger he his roiling up in his brothers. How he trustingly traveled 60 miles to meet up with them, only to be thrown in a pit and sold off to slavery.
And how, in the end, when he forgives them he tells them that it was not THEM that had done these things to him, but God. Joseph doesn't have an ounce of resentment towards his brothers. Oh, how I pray for this peace! We look at Joseph's forgiveness and how much it is like God's forgiveness to us: unconditional, without hesitation, with complete and total love, despite all that has been done wrong.
There's always something, usually simple, that jumps out and speaks volumes to me when going through these Bible studies. This time was no different. We are talking about this parallel: Joseph, like God, forgives his brothers, as God forgives us. Then Joseph sends his brothers to get their families. He sends them on a journey together. What is the last thing he says to them? "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." At first this made me giggle....not, "Safe travels", or "Love you, see you soon", or even, "God's peace." How well Joseph must have known his brothers! And how well God knows us. He not only cares about our relationship with Him, but our relationship with each other as we go on this journey through life, "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." Joseph had loved his brothers so much, and had forgiven them in that love, that he wanted them to experience the same love for one another. So it is with God and us, He wants us to love each other as He loves us.
Sometimes, no, often times, it is hard to see the good in eachother, to not find fault, to not gossip or quarrel. But that is God's wish for us, and so, as I pray for forgiveness, and the strength to forgive, I pray for the ability to not quarrel. What a word!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Details
I was reading John's account of the resurrection this morning. A noticed a detail that I had missed before...it's a detail that even Luke didn't write about. It goes like this, "Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus' head. The cloth was folded up by itself, seperate from the linen." John 20:6-7
Did you catch it? The detail? "The cloth was folded up by itself, seperate from the linen. The study Bible suggests that this tells us that it wasn't a grave robbery, since everything would be in disarray if it had been. But to me it's more. Take a moment to close your eyes and imagine what those first few moments when Jesus came back to life must have been like. Of course nobody really knows...and maybe I am going out on too much of limb by suggesting it, but there is a sense of comfort I get from this "imagining." The silence and darkness of the tomb. A sudden intake of breath. His eyes open, and he sits up, with a slight smile on his lips as He knows that He has beaten death and the devil. He unwraps the linens, tenderly removes the burial cloth from around his head.
The cloth that Joseph and Nicodemus had prepared Jesus' body with 3 days earlier. Probably with tears of sadness. Perhaps in silence as neither knew what to say to the other, wondering if they dared hope to remember Christ's promise or to even vocalize it. Nicodemus knew the promise. He was the man that Jesus told, "for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whoever beleives in him shall not perish but have eternal life." The thoughts that must have been going through this man's head as he cared for the lifeless body of Christ!
And now Christ awakes. He too remembers his late night teaching of Nicodemus. With the same care that was taken placing the cloth on his head, Jesus removes it. He does not throw it on the ground and run off to await Mary. He takes a few precious moments, while the angels rejoice, the birds sing, the ground shakes....he stops, takes up his burial cloth and folds it neatly. And then he leaves the tomb behind. With it he leaves his message of love for Nicodemus, Peter, and you.
Did you catch it? The detail? "The cloth was folded up by itself, seperate from the linen. The study Bible suggests that this tells us that it wasn't a grave robbery, since everything would be in disarray if it had been. But to me it's more. Take a moment to close your eyes and imagine what those first few moments when Jesus came back to life must have been like. Of course nobody really knows...and maybe I am going out on too much of limb by suggesting it, but there is a sense of comfort I get from this "imagining." The silence and darkness of the tomb. A sudden intake of breath. His eyes open, and he sits up, with a slight smile on his lips as He knows that He has beaten death and the devil. He unwraps the linens, tenderly removes the burial cloth from around his head.
The cloth that Joseph and Nicodemus had prepared Jesus' body with 3 days earlier. Probably with tears of sadness. Perhaps in silence as neither knew what to say to the other, wondering if they dared hope to remember Christ's promise or to even vocalize it. Nicodemus knew the promise. He was the man that Jesus told, "for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whoever beleives in him shall not perish but have eternal life." The thoughts that must have been going through this man's head as he cared for the lifeless body of Christ!
And now Christ awakes. He too remembers his late night teaching of Nicodemus. With the same care that was taken placing the cloth on his head, Jesus removes it. He does not throw it on the ground and run off to await Mary. He takes a few precious moments, while the angels rejoice, the birds sing, the ground shakes....he stops, takes up his burial cloth and folds it neatly. And then he leaves the tomb behind. With it he leaves his message of love for Nicodemus, Peter, and you.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
In Harmony
That's how I feel right now: in harmony. I've had touches of it here and there, but today...today it is real. When I was more musical and played in a variety of groups, the band not playing together was called phasing...it happens when one part of the group is playing at a different tempo than another part. Not only does the band need to play in tune to sound right, each member needs to play at the same tempo. The quickest and easiest way to accomplish that is to watch the conductor.
My life, the way I live it, it's like keeping each part of the band harmonized, and at the same tempo. Sometimes, there might be a part that plays solo....the players in the background keep playing, but work, my children, my husband, each take center stage at some point, but never for the whole song. Sometimes, one performs louder...starts beating their drum a little too fast, trying to take over and push me along at a speed that isn't in harmony with the rest of my life. If that is allowed to happen, eventually the whole song will come to a screaching halt, cymbals will crash, the trumpet will fade out on a sour note, the clarinets will be too shrill....and it seems like the only thing that will fix the problem will be to stop, put the instruments down, give up, if nothing else, start completely over and try again.
But it's not done, there is a way to fix it without giving up, without starting again, or finding a new song to play. All of it can come back into harmony, back into the right tempo if I keep my eyes on my conductor, my leader, the one who orchestrates my life. Only God can keep my song together, can make each and every part of my life playing the sweet notes that He intended them to be.
My life, the way I live it, it's like keeping each part of the band harmonized, and at the same tempo. Sometimes, there might be a part that plays solo....the players in the background keep playing, but work, my children, my husband, each take center stage at some point, but never for the whole song. Sometimes, one performs louder...starts beating their drum a little too fast, trying to take over and push me along at a speed that isn't in harmony with the rest of my life. If that is allowed to happen, eventually the whole song will come to a screaching halt, cymbals will crash, the trumpet will fade out on a sour note, the clarinets will be too shrill....and it seems like the only thing that will fix the problem will be to stop, put the instruments down, give up, if nothing else, start completely over and try again.
But it's not done, there is a way to fix it without giving up, without starting again, or finding a new song to play. All of it can come back into harmony, back into the right tempo if I keep my eyes on my conductor, my leader, the one who orchestrates my life. Only God can keep my song together, can make each and every part of my life playing the sweet notes that He intended them to be.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Square pegs in round holes
We've all heard this analogy before: "you can't fit a square peg into a round hole". Going through teacher education I heard it all the time. Every kid is different, you can't force a child with their own unique characteristics to fit into a program that doesn't meet their needs and strengths. It's the idea of "diffirentiated" curriculum. The ideal that a teacher can create a classroom that fits all shapes of children is taught to us as "best practices". It all sounded great in college, but then I got into my own classroom. I know that a teacher can force a square (or star) shaped child into her round peg classroom...but not with some bruising or cutting off of the corners. Maybe those corners can be reattached on the other side, but the scars and evidence that some damage has been done never go away. How do I avoid this in MY classroom? How do I celebrate the strengths and meet the needs of EVERY child in my room. There isn't enough time or room to have a curriculum that is square shaped, star shaped, circle shaped, AND dodecahedron shaped. Further, there are boundaries, expectations, and lessons that every child really needs to be aware of. So, how do I provide these experiences, and boundaries without damaging the spirit and uniqueness of every child in my care? I hope I've found a way to do that. My classroom can be a circle hole. I can make clear the expectations of my classroom, provide guidelines and the curriculum that every child needs, but I do it by making my circle large enough that every shape can fit into it. The overall "look" of my program can stay circle shaped. However, it's large enough to be flexible, caring, and accepting of every child. This is my goal, I pray that God gives me the strength and guidance to meet it.
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