Tuning This Life

Moving!

2010-04-17T07:44:00.001-04:00

...to jessramsey.wordpress.com
Sorry Blogger. Just wanted some nifty features. Nothing personal.

Charanda's

2010-04-11T22:27:00.002-04:00

Last week seemed to be filled with moments of humility:

I fell in the cafeteria. I'm a high school teacher--so...I fell in front of a bunch of high schoolers. It involved taco salad, me on the floor, and the potentiality of You Tube videos.

On Thursday, my husband took over all bedtime duties and sent me to pick up take-out at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I looked forward to these nights--a few minutes away, to recollect, to be around people without being around people. One of the servers began talking to me. For good or for bad, he recognized me because of my very exuberant son. I knew he had a daughter close in age to my two year old, and we began to talk. His wife just had another baby, she's staying at home with the children now....and immediately I became jealous.

I could empathize with the decision for sure, but here they had chosen what, on some days, I would jump at the opportunity to do. Be a mom all day long. But his rationale for the decision echoed familiarly in my ears as well--"in the end, she would only make an extra $40 or $50 a month after we paid babysitters." It's a hard choice. Many of us face it.

And so, I paid my $40 tab...and left.

The fall was worse this time. How had I missed it? Our dilemmas were similar, but I just dropped the difference in her salary on dinner. Our choices come from the same heart, but our realities are different. So grateful for an excision of pride here.

Faith, part 2

2010-03-20T15:26:00.002-04:00

When I read my Bible, I really just want to find validation. Not truth. I don't really want to be wrong. Or misguided. Some part of me still thinks my own view of life is okay--at least, it will do..as long as I can have my way. Because, if I'm wrong, if my way crumbles--or isn't at all what I thought it would be--then, my only response can be to trust something I can't see, throw my way to the wind, and live without restraint. My way is just so comfortably (and deceptively) secure.

Psalm 9
Mark 9:14-29
Proverbs 14:26-27
Romans 5:1-11

Mediocre

2010-03-17T21:22:00.000-04:00

God knew what He was getting Himself into with me. And he loved me before I was aware of how off the mark I was...am...will be. Because He was...is...and will be.

Psalm 9
Proverbs 14:26-27
Mark 9:14-29
Romans 5:1-11

Save and Deliver

2010-03-16T08:13:00.000-04:00

As I write this, I pause occasionally for quick hugs from my son. He's watching a favorite TV show, drinking some milk, but mainly standing behind me with his hand down the back of my shirt (it's his "security blanket"...he does it to anyone he loves...). Such a peaceful, slow morning. I'm enjoying this moment. And moments have been much more important to me lately.... There's that moment before I make a decision when I can stop and consider my decision. There are fleeting seconds of intense beauty that take my breath away--mujsically, artistically, or naturally. Moments of beautiful love from my family--when I question the ability of my heart to contain it all. And I wonder if this is one of the things that differentiate children from adults. Luke has no idea what's coming his way today--good or bad. He's satisfied right now and not attempting to plan each minute of his day. Just enjoying this one.

I've never before picked up on the moment in Matthew's account of Jesus clearing the temple where the children began to sing for Him. And Jesus acknowledges their praise. Though His response is simple, there's something profound about the interaction--He's not surprised. Caught up in the moment--the exciting, dramatic, miracle-marked moment--the children did what they were created to do. Without hesitation.

Psalm 7
Proverbs 3:1-12
Matthew 21:12-22
Romans 4

Faith

2010-03-10T21:18:00.001-05:00

Lately, I've worried too much about transmissions and hives. I scrambled from one partially completed project to another. I entered conversations dazed and left them trying to remember what was said. And I forgot what I read this morning: God keeps my way secure. How do I trust his security and stop trying to create my own?

Psalm 5
2 Samuel 22:21-51
Matthew 9:18-26
Romans 1:8-17

And so...I have abandoned The Book of Common Prayer for now. Instead, I'm trying to read through topics. This is my rewrite of the pattern...

A Change

2010-03-07T07:30:00.001-05:00

So, it's been quite some time since my last blog. Life hasn't been any busier than usual; there's no "usual" excuse. Really, it comes down to this: I'm not enjoying my long-desired 1928 version of The Book of Common Prayer. It's confusing (sometimes it appears as if I'm just supposed to read one verse, and many times that one verse, out of context, doesn't make any sense), it's demanding (morning and evening readings), and it doesn't seem to be following any coherent path. And here's the thing, this preparation for Lent has been tough for me. I feel as if I'm running smack dab into a wall that has been far off in the distance for some time now. Meaning, I know God has been asking me to slow down and relinquish control for some time now. And that call has hit my readings too--focus on one thing, sit in something for awhile, read through a concept instead of just reading through.

The Book of Common Prayer is great--don't get me wrong. I would recommend it to anyone that needs direction, ideas, a pattern to follow. But for now, I think I'm going to put it aside. [Add "edit blog" to list of things to do today.] Before I made the decision to blog about my readings, I considered putting together my own daily readings--making sure they tied together in some way and dived into sections of the Bible the BCP seems to shy away from. Characteristically, this may be biting off more than I can chew. But I do want to begin the process.

And so, once again, this blog is shifting focus...still "tuning this life" (because it is so very out of tune sometimes), but changing the process. More to come later...

Return

2010-02-21T23:15:00.000-05:00

Today, the question came: What one part of your soul do you most wish to see returned to God? The part you most want to see as it was meant to be?

Discipline. A follow-through-ness. An ability to push through pain/discomfort to reach a goal. Discipline.

And so, I reach for "the rock that is higher than I."

Morning: Psalms 50, 61, 3
Ecclesiastes 2
Romans 7:14-26 (I tacked on 15-26)
Isaiah 58 (so good)
Matthew 6:1-18

Evening: Psalms 15, 92, 69
Jeremiah 17:5-14
Daniel 9:3-10
I Corinthians 10:1-13
Luke 5:33--6:10

1928

2010-02-09T21:21:00.003-05:00

You know those long-range items on your to do list that, require time to resolve--and here, I mean months and months; they pester throughout the day--like a constant nagging--and have significant consequences--either victory or near negligence. I resolved one of those today. And despite my aversion to onomatopoeia, ...whew.

But I'm sitting here feeling quite foolish. Worry is a parasite. A joy-sucking, fear-mongering, sometimes immobilizing lie.

Psalm 78:1-39/78:40-72 [morning/evening]
Genesis 26:1-33
Hebrews 13:17-25
John 7 [I increased this myself...I'm behind.]

Programming Note: I used a birthday present (Amazon Gift Card! thank you friends!) and purchased a 1928 version of The Book of Common Prayer. I had been wanting one for some time--at some point, I read something in one of Madeleine L'Engle's books about only using this early 20th century version. I'm still looking for the passage which made me think so, but there are quite a few changes! The most obvious being that the readings are equally distributed between morning and evening. At any rate, I plan to switch on Ash Wednesday--the beginning of Lent.

Discipline

2010-02-07T21:21:00.003-05:00

The Superbowl is on and I'm not watching. Not intentionally. I was just caught up in trying to get it done--so to speak. While it embarrasses me to say so, I'm a remarkably undisciplined person. Life is full of great ideas, goals, and projects--inevitably, I begin several, attempt to meet impossible standards, and eventually move "it" to the back burner. For the past several months, the goal has been to finish. Just finish. Before moving on to something else. Focusing on the task at hand. Giving it my full attention--or as close to full as possible. Over all of this--I want to be aware of what's important, what requires my attention and what just sucks me in. I want to bear down on my gifts.

We've been talking about "calling" at church. One of the things I love about my 30's is perspective. In some ways, calling can be elusive--but sometimes it's just whatever sticks. Words have stuck to me. I teach about them, I write with them, I think about them, I explain them. But, what I lack is discipline. And here's what I'm wondering, if living in our calling requires us to recognize that our worth is found only in Christ, then we must immerse ourselves in that reality. Such an immersion requires a discipline of remembrance, constant referral to truth, whole faith.

Psalm 93, 96; 34 [morning/evening]
Genesis 24:50-67
2 Timothy 2:14-21
Mark 10:13-22

Blogging

2010-02-04T00:08:00.001-05:00

What I'm about to write will plainly reveal the amount of confidence I have in this blog...but, here goes: I'm not sure how much I enjoy this process. There's the pressure to actually do it. The journal-esque quality that I don't want it to have. The way it affects my reading--"ok, so what here among the four options [Psalms, Old Testament, Gospel, New Testament] will spark my interest enough, merge neatly enough with my day, allow me just enough insight to throw something down on the screen." And to be honest, I haven't enjoyed those feelings and thoughts. After all--it ties everything here into a ridiculously small package...just that which would fit inside my head. My head...that's it right there. I don't want to end there--ever.

I don't want my own understanding of the world to be just my own. It's boring. Sometimes very skewed. I don't want to interpret events through a lens I can't let go of. Because the truth of the matter is that I'm not completely satisfied with my understanding or interpretations. And the older I get, the more I don't want to be at the center of anything--attention or action or thought.

Psalm 72/Psalm 119:73-96 [morning/evening]
Genesis 22:1-18
Hebrews 11:23-31
John 6:52-59

Snow Day!

2010-02-01T21:40:00.000-05:00

Today was a special sort of snow day. My dad picked Luke up this morning for a day of fun in the snow. And I had the day and the house to myself. I listened to NPR. I methodically graded my students' essays. I drank countless cups of lukewarm coffee. I watched birds eat seed Cory threw on the snow. Truly--it's been four years since I've had this sort of day: not a work day, no responsibility, no schedule, pajama clad, whatever-I-want-to-do day.

And I do feel refreshed. I felt the same way after Christmas vacation. It was a different sort of break this year. In the past, I remember returning to work sometimes more worn out than when I left. But this year I returned relaxed, rejuvenated, and clear-minded. We had a beautiful Christmas. Busy. Sometimes stressful. Completely unscheduled. And I think we, my husband and I, just decided to go with the flow. And there's something to this that I'm finding necessary for happiness in our day to day life. I haven't been able to put my finger on why those two weeks in the end of December were different until today. Read the passage from Hebrews first.

Psalm 56, 57, 58/64, 65 [morning/evening]
Genesis 19:1-29
Hebrews 11:1-12
John 6:27-40

Snowed [Iced] In

2010-01-30T21:16:00.001-05:00

It doesn't take much to get snowed in here in the South. But despite our tundra-state, I'm disappointed. Yesterday evening you would have watched my hopeful trot to the sliding glass door, a nose pressing to the glass, and dejection fall across my face. The snow just wouldn't come. I woke up at four am to check. An ice glaze. And then--this morning (at a more decent hour)--more ice. Over the course of the morning, snow and sleet mixed together and turned the deck, our yard, the road into an ice rink.

We crunched through the woods this evening without direction--truly--we let Luke lead. Everything in the woods was coated in a thin glaze of crystal clear ice; and at some point, the farther we walked, the more it felt like we must have wandered into Narnia or Middle-Earth. Luke was a fearless leader--briar patches were tunnels, hills were mountains, ice patches became glaciers. I brought up the rear of our procession, and occasionally, Luke would call, "You ok Mommy?" And I would respond with confidence. "We are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved." [Heb. 10:29]

Psalm 55/138, 139 [morning/evening]
Genesis 18:1-16
Hebrews 10:26-39
John 6:16-27

Fullness, part 3

2010-01-24T22:24:00.001-05:00

It will be ok, but this is hard. Yesterday afternoon, we rushed Luke to an urgent care with a fever of 104. The cause? Strep and pneumonia. I wish I could say I never saw it coming, but I did. At any sign of illness in our boy, dread rushes in and I begin to expect the worst. After my last blog, I realized it may have appeared like I was overreacting to a common cold. But last December, we rushed him to the emergency room (after a case of strep) because his entire body was swelling to the point that he was unrecognizable. The most frightening part of this experience for me was the fact that no one--no one--knew what was wrong with him for nearly 24 hours. While doctors were sure it was a reaction to an antibiotic, everyone had read about this type of reaction, but no one had ever seen it in person. After that experience, even a runny nose makes my heart beat faster.

Right now, I'm just tired. But if someone could see my soul and paint what they see there, I'd appear passive, with my hands down, resolved just to follow through. This, of course, is outside of normal for me. I only read one article about pneumonia today and I haven't imagined a hundred worst-case scenarios. I just don't have the energy. Instead, I've been thinking about a reading from Genesis from yesterday (does that break the rules?).

Abram and Sarai left for Egypt to escape a famine in their own land. Abram, nervous over the Egyptians' possible reaction to Sarai's beauty, persuaded her to call herself his sister instead. The result wasn't good--the Pharaoh was attracted to her, did take her into his house (which I can only assume meant sexually), and was struck with disease afterward. Abram was forced to confess and leave. But this is what gets me: Abram thought he might be killed if someone desired Sarai and knew she was married. But no one killed him after they found out he wasn't her brother. (Not to mention the fact that their diseased state was caused by his dishonesty.)

And so, it occurred to me that Abram was really anticipating a bad situation without being assured of its likelihood. I'm not an ancient history or Bible scholar, so perhaps I'm missing something, but this story reminds me of all those occasions where I imagine a terrible outcome, practice a script in response to that situation, predict a myriad of consequences--all based on what I suppose could happen. Quite simply, I don't want to do that anymore.

Jan. 23: Psalm 30, 32/42, 43 [morning/evening]
Genesis 12:9-13:1
Hebrews 7:18-28
John 4:27-42

Jan. 24: Psalm 63, 98/103 [morning/evening]
Genesis 13:2-18
Galations 2:1-10
Mark 7:31-37

Fullness, part 2

2010-01-20T22:05:00.000-05:00

So yes, fullness. Part 2. The idyllic Monday I rambled on about in part 1? ....has swerved slightly to the south. Luke has a fever; early in the evening, he commenced with that depressingly lovely clinginess that marks the beginning of illness. And now, he's coughing miserably in his bed.

Admittedly, I'm not quite as perky and full of insight about my calling. I'm wondering about the night ahead. Planning for at least five scenarios which could unfold tomorrow. Questioning whether or not I should call the doctor. Feeling a bit guilty over a tiny selfish part of me that just wants things to be normal. And so I leaned over to my husband and said, "Just tell me everything will be ok."

He said, "You know it will be ok. It might be hard. But it will be ok."

That turned it into a challenge. "It might be hard." The next few days might bring more stress than I had planned for. But again, it's not about my agenda, my list of to-do's, my plan to conquer. And to be quite frank, this "challenge" [and it's beginning to feel less of one...] is at the center of my calling to mother Luke; productivity isn't.

God knows my heart. He knows and, I believe, understands the gamut of my thoughts--from the selfish to the misguided to the earnest. Somehow, that knowledge prods me [right now] to throw myself into the highs and lows of my calling. I can let Him sort through motives, desires, and reactions. "All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you. " Psalm 38:9

Psalm 38/Psalm 119:25-48 [morning/evening]
Genesis 9:18-29
Hebrews 6:1-12
John 3:22-36

Fullness

2010-01-18T14:17:00.001-05:00

This morning, Luke and I sorted through a closet shelf full of miscellaneous items I've been throwing there since his birth. I'm amazed by how soon we can reminisce. He's just two and a half, but he almost seemed to remember the favorite infant toy I pull from a box. Tiny hats, socks, and memories from showers fascinated him--but he seems more interested in the story behind it: "Mommy, what's this?" "Who gave this to me?" "What's this for?"

But the weather today feels like a March afternoon and we left his room in its disastrous state in favor of a walk. In fact, we stayed outside until oneish--he played in the mud with his dump trucks and a shovel and I sat in the sun and read about bread-baking. The house...well, the house is in various states of disarray. But my experiment today--of throwing my agenda to the side and listening to God? I think it's working.

Here's the thing--yesterday, in church, we talked about calling. Our pastor said that we're called to impact others' lives through Christ "for the common good." And truly his words hit the exact spot I've been bearing down on for several months now: Where exactly am I supposed to throw my impact? Logic isn't exactly my forte, however, it seems that wherever my impact is going to be, I'm going to have to be there too. In other words, my impact is going to occur wherever I am; whatever I do has some impact. We all know from direct experience that our impact can be negative; this is sin. But when our life is rooted in Christ's--this is when our impact directly adds to "the common good."

There's so much to say about this, and it's a train of thought I don't want to jump from. I know these things about myself: Right now, I'm called to be a wife and a mother...in my world, this means I want to build my home with grace, skill, and love. I keenly feel a call to use words to connect others to Christ--in varied forms and settings. And that's it. I'm not called to be skinny or a published writer--even though I judge myself by whether I've accomplished those things or not. (And I haven't.) But "size 6" and "Randomhouse" have nothing to do with my calling.

I sat and thought about Psalm 25 for a long time this morning...

"Show me your ways, Lord,
teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long."
(vs. 4-5)

Psalm 25/9, 15 [morning/evening]
Genesis 8:6-22
Hebrews 4:14--5:6
John 2:23--3:15

Maturity

2010-01-17T14:01:00.005-05:00

As I continue to confront an unhealthy dependence on my "agenda," I've tried to distill my major roles. What's absolutely necessary? What responsibilities have I taken on just because I feel them as expectations? So this morning, when I read "... become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ," I read it as a command. It's not--Ephesians 4:13 discusses Christ gifting believers to lead others to that fullness.

But inwardly, part of me groaned. I just turned 33, and while I don't want to ever wax eloquently about my persistent insecurities, I just don't feel very different from Jess at 23 or 13. Or...the close to 3 me in this picture.... Right now? I'm learning how to be a wife and mother. But at 23, I was learning how to navigate life after college. And at 13, I was exploring my growing independence. There are mistakes galore, mis-steps--sometimes predictably so, and when I read about fullness, my first thought is, "Yes! I want that...but I am so immature..." Sometimes I sense I'm learning the same thing over and over again--it just emerges with a different frame.

Psalm 148, 149, 150/114, 115 [morning/evening]
Genesis 7:1-23
Ephesians 4:1-16
Mark 3:7-19

Short Lived

2010-01-16T12:27:00.002-05:00

This past summer, we found this Luna moth late in the evening. The photo doesn't do it justice; the moth was nearly five inches across and was just so different than anything I had ever seen, I immediately started to research it. For some reason, I identified it as a Luna Moth without any hesitation (probably from reading The Girl of the Limberlost countless times in middle school). Interesting fact? They live long enough to mate. About a week. And adults don't even eat food--their sole purpose is to procreate. I had hoped we found the moth at the beginning of its week and not the end; but it didn't matter. That night a monster thunderstorm with driving rain rolled through and the next day the Luna Moth was gone.

Psalm 20, 21/110, 116, 117 [morning/evening]
Genesis 6:9-22
Hebrews 4:1-13
John 2:13-22

Shaking the Earth

2010-01-15T23:46:00.000-05:00

I thought I was over indignant reactions to what amounts to crackpot comments from leaders. [Or people who are vociferous enough to be heard...it may very well have nothing to do with leadership.] But for the past several days, I've been unable to get Pat Robertson out of my head! While some friends I've spoken with are amazed I'm shocked at all (after all, what did I expect him to say?), I don't want to become accustomed to the mangled, distorted, misconstrued sides of life.
__________________

I've been writing this blog for over an hour and a half now. I'm stuck. I've started, stopped, backspaced, typed furiously...until I'm just now frustrated with every facile thought that starts its trip across my screen. Without hesitancy, I can say that events like Haiti's earthquake send me reeling into an apathetic coma. My desire for extreme action leads me to complete inaction. What to do? What to do? I honestly considered, on the way home tonight--with my chatty toddler in the backseat--how much I wanted to jump on a plane and head to Haiti. It was the same feeling I had in college when I daydreamed about joining the humanitarian effort in Bosnia. How much of this is some sort of self-aggrandizing fantasy and how much is my genuine heart....I don't know.

But I know this was outside of God's Design. Death, hunger, agony, blame, thirst--these things were not part of the picture when the world began. I mean, we're talking about a God Incarnate who chose to turn water into wine as one of his first demonstrations of his "glory." A God who favored Noah--a needle in a haystack. A Man who went through death, hunger, agony, blame, and thirst. As much as life before the Resurrection exemplified our desperate situation, life after should reflect our Redemption. I mean--believers in Christ are under grace, not the law. The law reflected our separation from God--the extent to which we can't be holy or righteous. Faith in Christ depends upon recognizing our inability to attain righteousness on our own.

And so, I guess I'm in the midst of a theological fog. Do I think God's ways change? No. Neither does his character. But I do think God's story reached a climax when death lost. And this was a turning point. Now, instead of a negotiated religion between men, priests/prophets, and God--it's us and Him. For some reason, this turning point also implies, to me, that God probably doesn't swoop down and wipe out nations anymore. Could he? I can't deny it. But that was a different part of the story.

Psalm 16, 17/22 [morning/evening]
Genesis 6:1-8
Hebrews 3:12-19
John 2:1-12

Beginnings

2010-01-11T10:15:00.002-05:00

Psalm 1, 2, 3/5, 7 [morning/evening]
Genesis 2
John 1:1-18
Hebrews 1:1-14

I have to admit some disappointment this morning when I realized the coming weeks of Epiphany readings are sending me back to the beginning. In an effort to read the Bible through from beginning to end, I've read Genesis countless times...usually fizzling out somewhere in Leviticus. But each of these readings pointed toward the beginning of God's story in a different way: John highlights Christ's presence "in the beginning" and Hebrews differentiates that presence from angelic beings. And today, as I read Genesis 2, I reflected on the creation of humanity. Rather than simply speaking us into being, God formed us with his own hands, breathed his life into us, created us in his image.

I need to know that. It seems that lately I've been questioning God's story overall. Somehow it was easier to believe in cosmic significance in my early 20's...and now, as I approach [gulp] 33, I wonder if this is it. I've gone from lofty (but never enacted) plans to assist in humanitarian efforts around the world to a more practical day to day existence. But when I read Psalm 1, which contrasts the firmly planted believer with the unbeliever blown about by the wind, I found this written in the margins: "a heavy life." And I want that heaviness--not in a melancholy, self-absorbed sort of way, but in building a life of depth, deep connection, and beautiful weight.

"Is the Lord among us or not?"

2010-01-09T13:15:00.003-05:00

Psalms 121, 122, 123
/131, 132[morning/evening]
Isaiah 45:14-19
Colossians 1:24--2:7
John 8:12-19

When the normal schedule resumes, blogging apparently proves challenging. Time has again become a commodity, and I determine the worth of a task or event by time-spent. In fact, this week, it occurred to me that I don't have an insatiable desire for money--I have an insatiable desire for time. To a fault, I don't care about clothes or make-up or cars; but, I'm greedy with each second of my day--also to a fault. I find myself planning ahead in terms of minutes, gathering seconds for myself whenever possible, and dreading bedtime because it means the end of the day and sleep seems unproductive. When the psalmist compares the length of our lives to the life of grass, I get it. I feel it. I hate it. More often than not, I don't know why I'm here. There's no melancholy attached to that statement; I'm just not sure how packing lunches, cooking dinner, or running like mad from activity to activity is serving the greater good or how it fits into God's story.

I've always wanted God's story to feel like something along the lines of The Lord of the Rings--a little bit of fairy tale, lots of beauty, and some struggle (but just a bit.) The other day I discussed a particularly brutal section of Joel with some friends. We've been reading through the minor prophets together--a task I haven't been excited over just because, to be frank, it's hard to take. And when someone asked, "How do you feel as you read these chapters?" [which are full of destruction, fear, and God's anger and judgment] I blurted out, "That could be me! God could exact that punishment on me...and he loves me?"

So today, as I read these pieces of scripture, I found a common theme that took this issue to the mat. In Isaiah, God says, "I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me in vain.' I, the Lord, speak the truth; I declare what is right." Paul, in Colossians writes of maturing in Christ to understand the mysteries of God. And it occurred to me that in many ways, I don't live as if I acknowledge the immensity of the cross--it revealed the mystery in God's story as much as it redeemed us. And it should reorder my time, or, at the very least change the reason I'm so greedy for it.

In another, unblogged, reading, Exodus 17:7 caught my attention: "Is the Lord among us or not?" The question comes from a place name Moses used after providing water for the wandering Israelites; he was understandably frustrated by their persistent doubt. I should ask the same question...it changes my interpretation of the story.

Turning and Returning

2010-01-03T22:15:00.002-05:00

Psalm 66, 67/145 [morning/evening]
Wisdom 7:3-14*
Colossians 3:12-17
John 6:41-47

Tomorrow, I return to work. And really--typing those words just now marks the first time I've verbalized them all day. I've pushed the thoughts aside, focused on the moments, forged ahead as if tomorrow was just another day of vacation. Truly, though, I love my job. I do love teaching; but there are greater loves in my life now...and one that changes at such a pace I find myself doing double-takes.

I say this with all graciousness, but unless you're a mother who's left a child behind at daycare or preschool, witnessed their sad faces, and felt that dull ache coupled with hot tears as you drive away, you can't know the dread some workdays bring. Despite necessity. Despite knowing your children are well cared for. Despite even calling.

Becoming a mother loaded me down with a desire to control; I know God is chipping away at my stoney grasp on life as I know it, which is not life as good as it could be. I worry and fret and wonder if I'm doing the right thing, if I'm doing all I can, if Luke's life is good. But always, I return to a question a friend asked me nearly a decade ago: "Do you really believe God is good?" Psalm 145 tells me He is. Not just because of "awesome works" or "great deeds," but because I need to know that the One whom I've asked to know is "gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love," "trustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does," and (for tomorrow) "near to all who call on him."

During a walk in the woods, Cory and I found a single purple mushroom, and I returned hours later to photograph it, searched through leaves to find it, and sat and thought about it. Really? A bright purple mushroom? It was a perfect specimen of detail and exactness to me. I need that God--who knows the details of my heart: "My name is graven on his hands,
My name is written on his heart..." **

*As far as I can determine, Wisdom is a book included in some Anglican Bibles, but not included in most other Bibles--including mine....so I didn't read it.

**"Before the Throne of God," Charitie L. Bancroft, 1863.

Bread

2010-01-03T01:00:00.000-05:00

Psalm 34/33 [morning/evening]
1 Kings 19:1-8
Ephesians 4:1-6
John 6:1-14 [be sure to read this passage too!]

Today, I made focaccia. I love baking bread because the transformation from the gluey mass made entirely of flour, water, salt and yeast, becomes a light, crunchy, olive-oiled creation topped with cheese, olives, and sundried tomatoes. A remarkable transformation. And it was good--the only thing I served for dinner (which I initially felt badly about), but it satisfied us. The textures, flavors, and just the experience of eating something we had all witnessed and participated in the preparation of was more than enough.

And so, when I read 1 Kings, and discovered Elijah fleeing Jezebel's murderous wrath, I understood the beauty of God's care for his prophet: Elijah, sure he can't go any farther (and I assume it's a spiritual AND physical struggle), finds himself fed by God--bread baked on stones. He eats, finishes, and then "the angel of the Lord" [Jesus?] urged him to eat more bread in preparation for the journey ahead. The story reads, "Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb..."

Bread baked on stones. It must have been good. It was certainly longed for by Elijah and it sustained and satisfied him. But that bread was also personal--baked by God himself. "Taste...how good God is..."

From Psalm 34:1-9 (The Message):

1 I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise.

2 I live and breathe God;
if things aren't going well, hear this and be happy:

3 Join me in spreading the news;
together let's get the word out.

4 God met me more than halfway,
he freed me from my anxious fears.

5 Look at him; give him your warmest smile.
Never hide your feelings from him.

6 When I was desperate, I called out,
and God got me out of a tight spot.

7 God's angel sets up a circle
of protection around us while we pray.

8 Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—
how good God is.
Blessed are you who run to him.

9 Worship God if you want the best;
worship opens doors to all his goodness.

2010-01-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

Psalm 103/148 [morning/evening]
Isaiah 62:1-5, 10-12
Matthew 1:18-25
Revelations 19:11-16

Happy New Year! I've already broken 2 of my nearly 100 (I haven't counted, but it feels that high) new year's resolutions. But there's one I'm holding onto with some ferocity: Pay attention to the moment.

As I read through this morning's readings (to be quite honest, I rarely read the evening Psalm, which could actually be a great way to wrap up the day), I struggled to find a common theme. Or to again be honest, the house distracted me. That post-holiday disaster I find myself managing each year stared me down. Vaguely, as I read through Psalm 103, Isaiah, and Revelations (I have no idea why the New Year's Day reading included an account of the angel announcing the news of Mary's pregnancy to Joseph), I caught a theme of God's pleasure even in the ordinary and flawed. Isaiah describes his redemption of Jerusalem like a wedding, "the desirable place," or "the city no longer forsaken."

Maybe this does connect to Joseph; here's a man who had plans. "Normal" plans even. But God used a situation normally viewed by society as awkward and taboo to bring redemption to the earth. Maybe we sometimes altering our view of the mess gives us better vision.

Pen and Ink

2009-12-30T16:55:00.000-05:00

Psalm 20, 21/23, 27 [morning/evening]
1 Kings 17:17-24
John 4:46-54
3 John 1-15

[Note: Read the passages from 1 Kings and John together...beautiful symmetry]

3 John 13-14 reads, "I have much more to say to you, but I don't want to write it with pen and ink. For I hope to see you soon, and then we will talk face to face."

I'm terrible about getting together with friends. I have a suspicion that many of my friends think I can be a little bit of a flake. And while this sometimes happens to married people, I've always been like this. Given the opportunity to stay at home with a book or a project or meet up with a friend for coffee, I'll most likely choose the book every time. I'm a homebody. A little bit of a loner.

But this week, I've scheduled (see how warm and fuzzy my language is?) two get togethers with friends. A dear girlfriend is arriving in just a few minutes for a long-talked about coffee, and I'm finally following through with a six month old invitation tomorrow. But I don't feel like an anti-social person on any normal day. There's facebook, email, the sometimes hundreds of people I see every week, phone calls, casual encounters with family or friends at church. But there's something about the way John ends his third and final letter that makes me pause.

There are some things that can only be understood face to face. Pen and ink have their limitations.

What I did on my first day of Summer Vacation...

2009-06-08T21:37:00.000-04:00

Today, on our first day of summer vacation, Luke and I played, rediscovered one another, and my time felt so free I could simply watch him. I must say he amazed me. Not that he's some super-toddler, but I find myself analyzing his personality. What does his reaction to the toppling of his blocks say about how he may handle disappointment? How does he wait so patiently for me to pit cherries when I know he's famished? Will his joy over acts of service carry into the future?

I learned so much from watching him today in two separate, but connected situations. First--while we were playing outside, he began a game of truck relocation; what made the game interesting is that he used the same method of relocation for each truck in the cycle. If he pushed one, he pushed them all, if he dragged one, he dragged each. It wasn't so much the routine in his work (play), it was how he got there. He fell into a pattern and then stuck with it. Determination, perseverance, and carefulness marked his actions. I know I can't say that for myself. From tiny ages (close to his), I will only accept perfection on a first try and refuse to try again if that's not achieved. He handled his mistakes and challenges with a grace I'm still learning to accept.

Later, we began a specialized swim lesson called Infant Swimming Resources (ISR). They aim to teach children to survive in the water to prevent drowning. After witnessing three screaming children struggle through the ten minute lesson, I was nervous. I wanted to encourage Luke, but I knew he'd sense the fear in a fake smile if he protested to that degree. But--he didn't. He giggled, choked on water, laughed, splashed, and did exactly what they asked him to do, but he also navigated through moments of fear, disappointments, and insecurity.

There's something to be said to this idea: "we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts..." (from Romans 5)

St. Patrick's Day 2009

2009-03-18T07:06:00.000-04:00

Last night we took Luke to Main St. in Rock Hill for the St. Patrick's Day celebration. We need to do more stuff like this; just the other day I saw a couple who surfs on TV who were visiting South Korea (to surf) with their six month old baby. Envy isn't even the word--walking across swinging bridges next to mountains and temples and scenery so green it almost looks like a backdrop? I want that. Or do I...I'm a drill sergeant when it comes to naps and food (just for Luke...I eat all sorts of terrible things) and I'm sure they have to be a bit more laid back than me. And help--I bet they have help; surely the baby doesn't wait on the beach by himself as the catch the next wave. But I digress...

Luke loves music; it was my second favorite piece about watching him last night. The violin and guitar duo captivated him, and he danced, and clapped, and yelled in delight. He has a penchant for bluegrass, country, acoustic, and any live music. He's particular--loves Willy Nelson, but not such a fan of the Dixie Chicks. We discovered all of this one evening when he watched Neal Young enraptured on the couch, but handed the remote to Cory and whined when John Mellencamp began to play. Cory and I both love music (even if our tastes are different), and now I see that this can be a place for all of us to spend time together with something we love individually and collectively.

But that was only my second favorite part from last night. The highlight of the evening came when Cory ran into a friend of his dad's. They talked--about horseshoes, about his dad, about Luke--and this, this was the highlight of the night. Cory's dad died a week to the day after our wedding. He never met Luke. I see Luke's Poppa in him--when he plants everything he can find, when he sleeps, when he runs to the door to check on a suspicious noise. And here was a man who could look at Luke and possibly see that too.

A great St. Patrick's Day.

"...do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them." Deuteronomy 4:9b

2009-02-04T19:45:00.000-05:00

The concept of "working mom" has been overdone. Discussed for too long, assigned too many buzz words ("mom guilt"), and entangled in conspiracy theories (recently heard a story about how working moms unknowingly assist formula companies because breastfeeding is unfairly limited in the work place). While we can discuss a myriad of issues, I know the difficulty I face in making large decisions like going away for the weekend or in committing to small things like coffee with a friend finds it's root in my desire to make up for the time I lose with my son while I work.

For instance, today's a snow day. I can finally catch up on laundry, possibly wash the kitchen floor, and vacuum the house. But I feel as if I should organize Luke's play for the day, stay by his side and pretend to be a mom who doesn't work. Yet, I don't know what that looks like. This is a new sort of pressure I'm feeling.

2008-12-26T09:18:00.000-05:00

So here it is: the day after Christmas. A house destroyed. A car packed with gifts in the driveway. An exhausted child. Today, I want to tear down Christmas decorations; I have this intense desire to purge. Too much stuff! I feel as if we're bursting at the seams. And, as always, I want to do it all at once. THIS is housekeeping--and rather than being tied to gender roles, it's a basic human requirement. And so, today, I'm challenging myself to implement the following:

1. The pantry: I choose to buy food simply because it's on sale or it looks interesting or it might be good and the result is a pantry full of unused items. While it might be used eventually, I plan to only buy food that will be used within two weeks and fits with in a plan to use it. We don't eat random bits; we eat meals.

2. Intentional donations: Rather than bagging up loads of clothes and unwanted items and dumping them off at a random collection site, I want to donate intentionally. There are men's shelters who could really use Cory's older work clothes and suits from long ago. I'll solve some of the pantry issues by donating to a soup kitchen or food pantry in town.

3. Toys, toys and more toys: Right now, I'm unpacking from Christmas trips to grandparents' houses. Luke received a lot of practical things (clothes) and books (which are always welcome); but, it does seem as if he has more and more stuff--just like his parents. Today, I plan to buy (oops--another "thing") a big tub for half his toys. Each month, we'll cycle through some toys--preventing boredom AND over-stimulation.

4. Sharing: We have loads of things we no longer need. As we find items that can still be put to good use (like our bedroom TV)--I'll email friends and family and share with the first taker. Anyone need a casserole dish?

5. Put it back on the shelf: Just in the past 2 hours, I've put away six-yes, SIX, tubes of chapstick. But yet, when I check out at Target, I inevitably grab a pack "just in case." I must organize our house so that we know what we have and what we need. And then, I must not purchase items I'm not absolutely assured we require.

I'm hoping to reframe the way I think about running our house. The ironic thing in all of this is that neither my husband nor I are hoarders. We get rid of things on a regular basis and hate clutter. But I think we're both adjusting to three people living under one roof with a very generous family! And most of all, I underestimate the emotional toll too much stuff has on all of us. I want our family life and environment to be streamlined, orderly, and full of room to breathe.

Recovery

2008-12-21T10:45:00.000-05:00

We are still in the throes of Luke's illness. The doctors warned us it would be hills and valleys and not the gradual climb to recovery. "Everyone" says babies are resilient, and that's certainly true; Luke popped back into himself yesterday and we rejoiced.

All sorts of other recovery must take place though--the laundry room could use some rehabilitation, I may have to resuscitate the pantry, and we're injecting some last minute Christmas runs into the day. More than those things, I'm finding it hard to "get back to normal." I don't know if it's the single-minded focus to the week ("Make my child better...") or the complete removal of every other aspect of life from the day. In all regards, life just feels mechanical at present.

A take away....because we're always looking for application...I will be there in some form or fashion when friends experience what we went through this week. I want to make my concern tangible.