Jacqueline's Beautiful Ruins

Do the next thing

2010-08-11T08:43:00.024-06:00

One woman who has been a great inspiration to me throughout the years is Elisabeth Elliot. As a teenager I read her books as well as the books of those who inspired her. She introduced me to heroes of the faith such as Amy Carmichael, Hudson Taylor, Jim Elliot. So when the opportunity arose as a young adult to hear her speak in my hometown, I was eager to meet this "mentor" of my mine. I took many notes that fall day over fifteen years ago which now are most forgotten, but four small words have never left my memory....

"Do the next thing."

Simple, yet profound, these words have echoed through my brain time and time again. You see, when Elisabeth found out her husband had been killed by the Auca Indians in South America, leaving her in the jungle alone with her toddler daughter, she cried out to God, "What am I to do, Lord? How am I to make it?" He gave her these four simple words...

"Do the next thing."

If you know her story, you know she became a part of bringing the light of the gospel and forgiveness to the very ones who massacred her husband and four other missionaries in the Amazon jungle of Ecuador. She wrote many books and published the memoirs of her late husband for all to be inspired by. She has spoken to large crowds and passed a legacy of evangelism on to the next generation. And she did all this by simply one motto...

"Do the next thing."

You see, I don't know what the future holds, whether the economy will collapse, whether I will even live to see my next day or even breath. I can't see how the big picture of my life will unfold, but I know that I am called to follow my Savior day by day, and moment by moment. When I cry out before him, "God, what does this look like?" You know what He says to me?

"Do the next thing."

What does the next thing look like? It may look as mundane and simple as laundry and dishes, or it may appear as challenging as giving up everything to live with the poor of this world in order to bring them the Kingdom. It may seem hard, overwhelming, unattainable, but when broken down it is simply...

"Do the next thing."

I don't have to worry about what tomorrow will bring. I don't have to have it all figured out, for my Father who owns all things knows tomorrow. I simply move forward hand in hand, step by step, with Him who feeds even the sparrows while doing the ONE thing I know to do....

.....the next thing.

(Image of fun shoes found at Anthropologie.)

"I AM with you, even to the ends of the earth....."

2010-08-06T08:45:00.001-06:00

When a stay at home mom goes through a divorce, many thoughts whirl about her head as if the life she lives is sifted by a magnanimous tornado tearing apart every foundation lain the previous years. The process of grief overwhelms the mind with questions of the past, present, and future sending the individual into a daze which sometimes lasts for weeks, even months. When this takes place there is only One place to go , One solid foundation left unturned, One person to trust. That One is He who knows all things before the foundations of the world, the I AM of eternity. I AM walks alongside, not merely as God, but ultimately as friend. Who is this I AM who is friend? He is everything to the broken, the weak, the disheartened and overwhelmed. He is:

healer lover counselor friend maker provider father guide giver restorer redeemer mine companion leader teacher shield shelter deliverer refuge strength comforter husband savior light....

He is all consuming everything who meets every single need of every single soul, enabling a peace that passes ALL understanding to keep the heart and the mind of the one who listens to Him.

So what is He to you today? Write it down, make a list, or even keep a book of remembrance then teach it to your children so that you may never forget that I AM walks alongside you minute by minute, day after day in all of your days.

the Blue Parakeet

2010-07-27T09:54:00.005-06:00

I have been reading a book by Scot McKnight called The Blue Parakeet, and it is rocking my world about the way I read the Bible. It has changed my perspective from "How should I think, feel, and live?" to "Who is this incredible God of this interactive story told over time by several authors from several perspectives?" And in reading in this way, I am undone. The God of the Bible can in no way be boxed to conform to our minute ability to describe Him nor can He be mastered. To quote Scot McKnight:

"God did not give us the Bible so we could master him or it; God gave the Bible so we could live it, so we could be mastered by it. The moment we think we've mastered it, we have failed to be readers of the Bible."

The Bible is the Story of God, the unfolding of who He is, told from the perspectives of different authors from different cultures and various time periods. It's a story that cannot be tamed, boxed, nor (do I dare say this) is it complete. For the God of this story eternally existed before any words of Him were penned, and is so vastly above our ways that the story serves merely as a window into the height, depth, breadth of our wonderful Creator. It no longer is a matter of readers laboring and studying to grasp His ways, but rather it is a matter of readers, so in love with Him, listening to know Him so that His ways grasp their very hearts in radical transformation.

How then does this affect the way I teach my children about God? Do I present Him as a taskmaster with rules to submit to? Do I force scripture on them when their hearts and minds are elsewhere? Do I summarize the text of the Bible from the traditions I have always believed? Do I content myself with mere outward behavioral obedience? NO! I must patiently weave the Story into their everyday existence. I must remember to present it as God's amazing Story full of action, blood, deception, romance, treason, beauty, art, passion, death; and then let them find their own way with this Beloved Creator of their souls. I must introduce this Savior whom I love from the depths of my heart, and leave them to find Him who is already seeking them, that they will love Him, know Him, and let Him radically transform their lives.

Image by lori joy.

Finding My New Normal

2010-07-20T17:28:00.000-06:00

Here I am, sitting down to the computer in an effort to express the thoughts, feelings, emotions of the past few months. Honestly, a lot of "water has gone under the bridge" since I last shared. Details of the separation of my marriage have been discussed, and I am now left with what I call my "new normal," sifting through thoughts, ideas and God's word in order to discover how to walk the now delicate line between appropriate boundaries and sacrificial love. There is really no manual on how to best walk this, no clear cut black and white lines,so I find myself learning as I go, doing some things right, and some terribly wrong. Yet in all of it, I am growing past grief, anger and difficulty and finding something beautiful emerging from the ruins. I don't yet know exactly how this "new normal" looks, but I do know that my Heavenly Father who holds all things in the palm of His hand will be right by my side. There still will be moments when grief hits me like a ton of bricks, but new joy will be found in walking as one who overcomes baby step by baby step. I invite you to join me in this journey as I now plan to use this blog as a place to share my thoughts, struggles, ideas, and dreams as a single mom who desires to partner with God for the souls of my four incredible children and find beauty in my home and my life amidst the ruins.

Unconditional Love

2010-05-26T05:41:00.011-06:00

Unconditional love... what is that? What does it look like? As I anticipate seeing my husband for the first time since the decision to separate, I am burdened with one thought straight from the heart of my heavenly Father, unconditional love. What does that love look like? It is very unique to the individual it is poured out on. For my husband, it involves a letting go, a releasing of hand to allow him to find what he is looking for, painful as that might be to the depths of my soul. It involves harboring no bitterness. It involves letting go of the past and wishing only what is best for his future. It is not done as an act to gain something in return, not even reconciliation of the marriage. It is simply poured out in grace as the greatest gift one can ever give. This act of love is not an easy one to give, as it is clouded by human nature. But as I lay myself down on the altar of the Lord, and let Him love through me, it is possible.

Love through me, Love of God,
Make me like Thy clear air
Through which, unhindered, colors pass
As though it were not there.

Powers of the love of Good,
Depths of the heart Divine,
O Love that faileth not break forth
And flood this world of Thine.

a poem by Amy Carmichael

Happy Weekend!

2010-05-22T09:27:00.002-06:00

Weekends are for:

family projects
breakfast in pajamas
naps in the park
walks in the mountains
relationship building and bonding

Looking forward to a wonderful slow weekend with my children. We have no major commitments, but to simply enjoy relationship with one another as we work and play together. Hope your weekend is blessed as well!

Image found at Basil.

Journal of an Ordinary Day:

2010-05-21T23:14:00.001-06:00

These thoughts were written on January 16, 2010 to commemorate the ordinary days of my life:

Here I am, much past my desired bedtime, sitting down to the computer to jot down thoughts of a lovely day before they escape my memory. For these thoughts hold a memory I do not want to forget. A memory of an ordinary day.

My ordinary day began as I awakened to two ambitious boys ready to conquer the world. Not being ones to understand the concept of sleeping in, they tugged at the covers until I rolled out of bed. I sipped tea, laughed in the kitchen, and remained in my pajamas most of the morning. A memory of racing out the door with the wrong directions in hand to a basketball game. A memory of a frenzied child trying to pull her emotions together for the game (which she did, by the way, and played the best game of her season so far). A memory of a simple supper. A memory of playing games together. A memory of kissing the boys goodnight then slowly plodding up the stair to fall into bed then stopping half way to listen to a girl's thoughts, then pausing longer to laugh with another girl. Then before I knew it, I found I had lingered on that step for over an hour laughing and chatting with two beautiful girls. A memory of friendships forged and relationships built in simply an ordinary day.

2010-05-20T14:47:00.002-06:00

My son recently enjoyed a "Pioneer Day" field trip where he was able to dress up in hardworking pioneer clothes, play pioneer childhood games, eat savory pioneer biscuits with homemade pioneer butter, and make pioneer crafted toys. As I observed him enjoy his adventure away from the classroom, I was reminded of my girlhood days when I longed to live in the Little House On the Prairie. Those seemed simpler days when families labored hard all day long then shared life together into the evening telling stories, singing songs, and playing games most often around a fire. It's tempting to wish for those days in today's fast paced, media driven society, but they are gone. The modern culture has shifted, and modern mothers have had to shift with it. We have had to take on taxi driving, wade through hours of homework, encourage practice of musical instruments, cheer at multiple sports events, while trying to maintain some sense of peace and order in our homes. How are we to stay sane? Two words...no and go. We have to learn to say no to those activities that take us beyond our calling then go and walk in God's strength if and when He bids us to stretch beyond our human capacity. How do we do this? We do it by listening closely to the heart of our Father and surrendering ourselves to His ways. He wants to use our lives of faith in "such a time as this." He will never call us beyond what He is able to do in and through us, so we must cultivate a life of listening and trust of His will. Sometimes we mistake His voice for the voice of another, but He gently directs us back to His ways if we so choose to listen. Then in listening, we enjoy the ebb and flow of bustling activity for His Kingdom and quiet solitude for our soul restoration.

2010-05-19T00:48:00.003-06:00

how does one love a butterfly?

can one cage it?

a butterfly's beauty is most appreciated

when its wings flutter in the expanse of the open sky allowing it to soar to freedom and the life it was created to live.

where does that leave one who loves this intricate creature of beauty?

open handed

releasing

watching

somewhat sad, somewhat lonely, but altogether knowing that letting go, difficult as it may be,

is to love.

2010-05-11T09:56:00.002-06:00

This morning I sit at my computer slightly dazed by the events of the past month. Never in my lifetime did I imagine that I would become a single mom. Oh, I have been living somewhat of a single mom life most of my marriage as my husband has worked extremely hard to provide for his family of six. Four years of nursing school followed by eighteen months of work as a nurse traveler took him far away from home and family. I pressed on in these times as a mother of four knowing this season would soon come to an end. Much to my surprise, the season has ended, and I find myself having to let go of the man I love. How do I do this? What does the future hold for me? Will my precious children survive? What will I do to provide financial security for my now family of five? So many unknowns surround my life. So many questions are yet unanswered, but I find comfort in these words:

"For I know the plans that I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:11-13

2010-04-14T15:10:00.006-06:00

Wanting to be loved by someone, but learning to be satisfied only in God's love is a life long journey...a process often accomplished over the span of years and completed only when we see the face of our Savior in the glory of Heaven. Why? We were created to be relational by our loving Maker. He designed us to love and be loved. In Adam's loneliness, God brought him a helper. God placed relationship into this world to satisfy the natural longing of soul, yet sometimes those natural longings go unmet. Somehow we learn to live with unmet needs, then see with fresh eyes how God meets those needs in ways we could never ourselves fathom. The Lover of our souls loves us unconditionally and unreservedly, and is the only satisfaction to our inner longings for relationship, yet He gives us the command to "love one another" wholeheartedly. Then through our love, the world around us will begin to know Him and learn to be loved by this truest Lover of souls.

2010-04-05T22:02:00.013-06:00

"To Make a Home"
by Lon Woodrum

It takes a heart to make a home,
A heart that's warm and strong;
A heart with strength to live and love
And ever keep its song;
A heart that flings the door back wide
To all that's true and right,
But has the courage to withstand
The wrong with all its might.

It takes a smile to make a home,
A smile that's warm and real;
A smile that will not fade and die
When fortune draws its steel.
A smile that, when the dark comes down
And stars no longer gleam,
Will lift a lamp against the night
And kindle one more dream.

It takes a faith to make a home;
A faith that's warm and sure,
That seeks the power of Him who makes
The human spirit pure;
A faith which enemies of life
Can never overcome-
It takes a heart, a smile, a faith
In God to make a home.

Inspiring photo found at House to Home via The Inspired Room.

2010-04-04T22:26:00.001-06:00

"I have no greater joy than this, to hear of my children walking in the truth." 3 John 1:4

It is the deepest desire of my heart for my children to know and love their Lord and Savior personally. I work hard to introduce Him to them, to point Him out in all the wonders of creation, to acknowledge His provisions in their daily lives, but I am struck by one idea. They must make that relationship their own. They must come to the Lord of the universe themselves and bend their knees and acknowledge Him as Lord of their own lives. As much as I wish I could make this decision for them, I cannot. It must be theirs and theirs alone. So when my dear third child decided in child faith to give his life to Jesus, my heart overflowed with exuberant joy. He had been contemplating for some time this One who came to die for him, asking questions, seeking. Then one evening after having watched a local performance of the death and resurrection of Jesus, he quietly committed his heart to Jesus. He approached me later and explained what had happened in his dear little heart with the words, "I am different now." It is true. He is different. Sure he is still a little boy, with much growing into maturity yet to take place, but there is evidence of the miracle of salvation within his heart. That miracle is refreshing. It gives great hope and reminds me of the wonder of a changed life, a life rising from the ruins into a something beautiful beyond comprehension, the most beautiful ruins of all!

I Did It!

2010-03-28T04:11:00.005-06:00

I finally accomplished goal #4o of project fifty-two!

I custom-made a header for my blog!

I made it with my own picture!

I did it without buying photo shop!

I finally got the right size!

I stayed up WAY too late to figure it out,

but I like it!

Can you tell that I am excited!?!

I hope you like it, too!

A Different Mom

2010-03-27T08:34:00.013-06:00

Right before tucking my children into bed, one of my dear ones burst out of pent up emotion, "I wish I had a different mom." Oh dear, it had been a rough day with this one who seemed to wake up with a chip on the shoulder toward everyone in the house, the weather, and life in general. After hearing these words, I trudged up the stairs and plopped, exhausted into bed. As I lay there processing, words of a wise friend came to mind. "When critical, hurtful words are spoken, I (my friend) have learned to look in the mirror and ask myself what of the words spoken are true? What of the words are exaggeration and lies? Then I take the time to do my part, and leave the rest." As I took the words of this dear mentor to heart, I began to think through the day. I tried to make it a good day for each child, but I also woke up with this feeling of having "given" all week. On the outside I continued to give, but my heart was not in it, and this one who tested my emotion all day sensed it. You see, sometimes as a mom, I lose sight of why I give of myself. It isn't for temporary results, it isn't for appreciation or applause, it isn't for my own sense of goodness or because it is the right thing to do. It is for demonstrating unconditional love as my Father in Heaven demonstrates unconditional love for me in order that the ones entrusted to my care may know Him. My heart's deepest desire is to have my children know that love and walk in it. This kind of love is one that loves to the point of exhaustion. It is the kind of love that took Jesus to the cross. But the exciting thing is that it isn't a love filled with drudgery but rather joy. My Savior, "who for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2 It is a love that is empowered by this One who died for me and now lives in me. It is a love whose energy is fueled by "the Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth (who) does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary." Isaiah 40:28-31

This is the kind of mother I want to be:
one who walks in joy, strength and unconditional love,
one who looks at the bumps of life and chooses joy not selfishness,
one who dances through life's ups and downs, AND
one who celebrates life with tea and cake!

Saturday Mornings Are For Sleeping In, Staying in Pajamas, and Eating Waffles

2010-03-06T12:27:00.013-07:00

One of my favorite things about Saturday mornings is waking up to a slower pace, putting on a pot of tea, and making waffles. I whip up the batter, and as my groggy-eyed children rise one by one I set out the whipped cream, berries, peanut butter, coconut, cream cheese, and maple syrup. After every tummy is full, the remaining batter gets cooked and the extra waffles get placed in the freezer. These make great toaster breakfasts on busy school mornings.

Over the past few months I have been tweaking a favorite waffle recipe that I found here. After much experimentation, I came up with the following recipe which is a bit more healthy, yet still retains the light, crispy texture my family loves.

Jacqueline's Favorite Waffles:

1 3/4 cups all purpose flour

1/4 cup fresh ground flax seed (I ground these in my coffee grinder.)

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

4 tablespoons evaporated cane juice or sugar

6 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons salt

4 large eggs, separated

3 1/2 cups milk

1 stick butter, melted

Heat the waffle iron on medium high to high. In a large bowl whisk together the flours, ground flax seed, sugar, baking powder, salt. In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, milk and melted butter. Add to the flour mixture, and whisk until the large lumps disappear. Beat the egg whites to stiff peaks and fold them carefully into the batter. Following your waffle iron instructions, ladle the batter into the iron and cook until no steam emerges. Top with maple syrup, berries, cream cheese, marmalade, coconut, peanut butter, whip cream, or other favorite toppings and enjoy!

Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed....Or Not

2010-03-05T11:02:00.007-07:00

We are so ready for spring break around here! This morning, as I was making the rounds to awake my sleepy children for school, I stopped for a few moments beside my older daughters' beds to chat with them. All of the sudden little BJ came bounding out of his bedroom bright eyed and bushy tailed, huge smile on his face and ready for a brand new day. He excitedly asked, "Is there school today?" to which I replied, "Oh, yes, but it is Friday!" to which his bright eyes dimmed into a frown. He turned in a huff and threw himself back into bed with a groan. His sudden change of demeanor sent the rest of us into an uproar of laughter. Yes, spring break is only a few weeks away, and we are ALL so ready.

For the Love of Domesticity and Sock Baskets

2010-03-03T12:52:00.010-07:00

I love homemaking. The art of creating a cozy haven for my family and friends brings sheer pleasure to my soul. I love creating yummy foods that fill the house with tantalizing aromas and feed hungry tummies. I love providing cozy corners for play, solitude, or intense discussions about life. I love clean floors and newly washed sheets. I love finding discarded thrift items and finding new life for them. I love a fresh coat of paint on scuffed walls. I love all that makes home a refuge from the craziness of life.

But sometimes life gets so busily out of control that I forget how much I love these things. Time for creativity is stifled, and all I can see are the mountains of laundry and piles of dirty dishes. But just when those times are about to overtake me, someone comes along and quietly lifts the burdens, clears the messes, and renews my strength to keep going.

That someone is my mother. The past few years, she has flown out during the month of February while my Dad takes a mission trip to Africa and spends time with the children and I. Every time she visits, she quietly does the ordinary things like laundry and dishes and matches all the mismatched socks in my ever growing sock basket. Yes, I confess, I have a large laundry basket full of socks accumulated when removing clothes from the dryer with the intent to match them later. "Later" never happens, and then I end up with an overflowing basket of lone socks waiting for dear Mother to come and reunite the pairs, so my four children do not have to waste so much time every school morning vainly searching for mismatched socks.

In taking care of the "sock basket," Mother takes care of me. Without out a word, she does the little things that give me time to take a breath and feel renewed. She leaves me re-energized to take on the ordinary tasks of life with new vitality and renews my love for the domestic arts once again. This gift of carrying my burdens, even if only for a short while, is one I have grown to deeply appreciate over the years and one I hope never to take for granted.

What about you? What is your "sock basket" that needs emptied?

Beautiful Ruins

2010-01-26T08:53:00.008-07:00

As a teenager I dreamed of being a Christian "hero." I would give everything and go anywhere for my Lord. I committed to live for Him, "whatever the cost." Little did I understand the depth and breadth of those words. Little did I know what "cost" was. Little did I anticipate the unexpected twists and turns my life would take. Little did I realize what "count it all joy when you fall into various trials" meant.

My journey has involved death. Death of myself, my ways, my ambitions. In essence, it has meant a coming to ruins, so that the Lord may create something beautiful from the ashes. Beautiful ruins. It has not been a life of ease, but it has been one full of joy; joy in knowing intimately the unfailing love of my Lord. All other life is nothing compared to this knowing.

I know the journey is not over yet. I know there are unforeseen trials yet to come. But I also know the goodness of my Lord, and because of His goodness I will dance. I will "count it all joy" so that from the ashes, beauty will arise. Beautiful ruins.

Thoughts inspired from this post by Sally Clarkson.

Cupcaking

2010-01-15T14:18:00.010-07:00

One of my favorite new fascinations in the kitchen these days is the art of cupcakes. A few years ago, I paid no attention to these little bites of cake and creamy confection. I rarely baked them in favor of a more moist, layered slice of indulgence. But as growing trends have popularized the once ordinary dessert, I have found myself on the bandwagon trying to make the yummiest possible five bites of deliciousness. I even have this illusive dream of someday opening up a cupcake shop in town!

After experimenting with many flavors, mixes, recipes, I still have not yet created my piece de resistance, but have learned a few things along the way:

Number One- Do not overfill the cupcake papers. Filling the papers a smidgen past half full will result in a beautiful rounded top.

Number Two- Watch the cakes at the end of the bake time to pull them out at just the right time. If you bake them too long they will be dry. The tops should bounce back with a little give when you gently push them with your finger to ensure moistness.

Number Three- Brush the tops with a simple syrup immediately out of the oven. This marinates the cakes with the kind of flavor found in layer cakes. One of my favorites is a mixture of sugar and water boiled into a syrup with the addition of pure almond extract.

Number Four- Top with an exquisite frosting. Vanilla buttercream and cream cheese are two of my favorites.

Number Five- Refrigerate overnight in a sealed container for the best infusion of flavor.

Enjoy!!!

Project Fifty-Two

2010-01-04T00:08:00.023-07:00

Each new year brings with it wonderful musings of thoughts, goals, ideas for the upcoming months. It creates a time to think and pray about what of the past needs to be dropped, and what of the future must be accomplished. After much musing, I conclude the same thing each year. No matter where life's road turns, I have one desire: to know the Maker of my entire being more deeply and to be filled with His pleasant aroma which can then overflow into the lives of my children and the people around me. The simple goal of knowing Him and teaching my little ones of His wonders puts all other things into perspective.

That being said, I have put together somewhat of a practical wish list of things I would like to do in the year 2010, not resolutions, just wishes. As I began to compile the list, it grew and grew until I finally decided to limit it to fifty-two. One wish fulfilled for each week of the year. Feel free to walk with me as I take baby steps towards order and beauty and the cultivation of art and soul. I would even love to see your wish list of fifty-two.

1. Paint the family room and office.
2. Post fifty-two blog posts.
3. Complete the reading of my chronological Bible.
4. Read a classic.
5. Sew a lap quilt.
6. Explore downtown Denver.
7. Hang curtains in the family room.
8. Organize photos.
9. Finish a puzzle.
10. Study a book on photography.
11. Eat a cupcake at Happy Cakes.
12. Learn how to make Beef Wellington.
13. Study the manual for my camera.
14. Develop portrait photography skills.
15. Plant Zinnias.
16. Hike the Incline.
17. Get away alone with my husband.
18. Arrange a performance by my children for a retirement home.
19. Customize a slipcover for my sofa.
20. Improve my low light photography abilities.
21. Construct cupcake boxes for Valentine's Day.
22. Grow Daisies.
23. Have tea in Monument.
23. Travel with the family to Glenwood Springs.
24. Complete the family picture/art wall.
25. Go camping.
26. Sew pillows.
27. Fit into my favorite black skirt (sit-ups required).
28. Organize my creative space.
29. Paint the girl's dresser.
30. Learn to bake artisan breads.
31. Develop my own signature cupcakes.
32. Remodel the extra bathroom.
33. Remove the wallpaper in the master bathroom.
34. Hang towel hooks.
35. Narrate aloud The Hobbit to the boys.
36. Read a book (or two, or three, or four) by George MacDonald.
37. Visit an art museum as a family.
38. Paint the back entryway white.
39. Make a toy theater out of a moving box with the children.
40. Customize my own blog page design....MAJOR learning curve.
41. Run a 5K.
42. Host a gathering for the neighborhood women.
43. Sew a new apron.
44. Peruse and collect books of great artists.
45. Start a family nature journal.
46. Sew messenger bags with the girls.
47. Braid a rag rug.
48. De-clutter the office.
49. Stencil a sign.
50. Create a custom wardrobe from bargain, vintage finds.
51. Enjoy recommended books from Read for the Heart.
52. Above all, know the Master Creator of my soul.

Lessons From a Soup Pot

2009-12-29T11:08:00.007-07:00

The other day I decided to have a try at making French Onion Soup. I searched the web for recipes, read blogs on technique, then made my way to the store for sherry, beef broth, Gruyere cheese, and a lot of onions. I cried my way through the slicing then piled the onions in a roaster (since I do not own a Dutch oven) with a whole stick of butter. Setting the oven timer for one hour, I cleaned up the kitchen, tucked the children into bed, and waited. At the sound of the timer, I opened the oven door to the lovely aroma of cooked onions, stirred them, then returned the pan into the oven to bake one hour and a half more. Once the baking was complete, I began the next process of caramelizing. Setting the pot on the stove, I added one-fourth cup of water, scraped the bottom of the pan, and waited once again as the liquid cooked off of the onions. After repeating this process three more times, I finally added the Sherry and patiently stirred and scraped as it evaporated as well, leaving the onions ready for the final step of simmering in beef broth with a little thyme and bay leaf. As the liquid simmered, I realized how much I had savored the slow process that would result in a decadent soup to be enjoyed by my family.

In this fast paced, microwave generation, we sometimes miss the enjoyment slow, methodical cooking provides. A good French Onion Soup cannot be rushed. It takes time and patience. As I contemplated this idea, I realized the same is true for parenting. Parenting requires hours and hours of preparation and input. It involves tears as children grow from the raw personalities that they are into aromatic individuals full of life to give back to this world. It cannot be rushed neither neglected. But just as I relished the procedure for creating a delectable French Onion Soup, I am learning to cherish the hours required to faithfully train and equip the children entrusted to my care. And as I do so, I am beginning to understand a little more deeply the Father heart of God, as He too seeks to mold me into an aromatic individual suited for His purposes.

Julie, Julia, and Me

2009-12-28T22:49:00.009-07:00

Today I enjoyed a delightful escapade from the normal routine of life. The four children happily cared for by their adoring grandparents left me hours on end to spend in solitude. What to do with such a gift? My first response....Barnes and Noble Bookstore.

With an armful of books and a chai tea in hand, I spent a good portion of my day capturing great amounts of inspiration. Perusing books on blogging, decorating, cooking, sewing, photography, and the classics set the wheels of ideals into motion. I even ran into my favorite idealist while wandering the rows and rows of books. (It's amazing how this blog world makes me feel kin to someone I have not really ever spent time with in person.)

After absorbing a good portion of information which was carefully noted on the backs of receipts, napkins, or whatever source of paper could be found, I made way to my next destination...the paper store. With gift card in hand, I whittled away more than an hour admiring ribbon, paper, stamps, embellishments, and finally walked away with a bagful of treasures. A haircut, supper at a special cafe, and a little more shopping left me readied for my quiet home and a favorite movie.

Even though it is my third viewing of Julie and Julia in the past month, I find the story does not get old. I suppose I love it so much because it embraces so many of my passions: cooking, family, relationships, hospitality, writing, blogging. I laugh, as I realize that before the movie I had little interest in pearls, I thought Julia Child wrote The Joy of Cooking, and I imagined a good blog involved well thought paragraphs and preparation. Since first viewing the movie, I have learned to enjoy the down to earth conversation that takes place in blogosphere, I cook French Onion Soup, I admire a nice string of pearls when I pass by the jewelry in the department stores, and I consider Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child a high priority on my kitchen wish list. It's somewhat silly how one movie has changed my perspective and even inspired me to live more artfully, but it also is encouraging. You see, the real Julie Powell is somewhat of a crass individual and a seemingly unlikely candidate for inspiration. She has been criticized for her inappropriate language and lifestyle, yet she has inspired a story that is sure to send more cooks to the kitchen, more families to the dinner table, and more relationships valued. I am encouraged by this, that one ordinary human being with great faults could inspire so many people, simply by drawing public attention to the work of her inspiration, Julia Child.

Why am I encouraged by this? I am a faulty parent, wife, human being who simply wishes to live my life serving the greatest of inspiration, my Saviour, Jesus Christ and draw the attention of everyone I meet to His goodness. I am an unworthy candidate, full of faults; but in some small way I can inspire simply by living out each day the life He gifts to me. No, I may never inspire the masses, but I hope to leave a legacy with the four precious children entrusted to my care. That being said, I am renewed to pursue all things necessary to accomplish the goal before me; to live artfully, purposefully, daily for the One who gave His life for me.

Wrapping Up

2009-12-20T23:02:00.009-07:00

Christmas Day is drawing near. The gifts are bought, and most are wrapped. For a moment I stop and breathe as I check my unending list of preparations. What must I still accomplish? What project shall I abandon?

In the hurry of the season with Christmas concerts to attend, goodies to bake, parties to plan, traditions to uphold, my adrenaline kicks in with a sudden sense of urgency. My heart pounds. My breathe shortens, and I almost forget the Reason for it all. The Prince of Peace was born over 2,000 years ago, not to bring stress, pressure, deadlines: but rather peace. Peace in the midst of chaos. Peace that exudes from the very core of my being, because He is the core of my being. Peace that understands He is in control even when my world seems spinning out of control.

I stop, I meditate, I remember the One who was born in a stable that infamous Christmas night and breathe a little deeper. Life still spins, but I no longer spin with it. I stand calm in the midst of the storm, for I know Him who calms the storm. I remove my vision from the waves of life, and focus my gaze into the eyes of my beloved Lord of all the universe. For it is He who "keeps in perfect peace the mind who is focused on Him."

I laugh, I love, I feel lighter. I go about the tasks before me renewed yet grounded, grounded in the overwhelming security of the Son of God who loves me, and paves the way before me.

Celebrating the....

2009-11-12T21:10:00.017-07:00

ADVENTUROUS....JOYFUL...CRAZY.... GENTLE...FRIENDLY.....
HANDSOME...GENEROUS.......CARING.... SMART...KIND ....QUIRKY...FUNNY.....GIFTED......man I love on his birthday.

Reflections from the Berkshires

2009-09-30T11:00:00.009-06:00

This morning I found myself contemplating the rhythmic melody of my life which seems to sway quite persistently from quiet moments of inspiration to draining bursts of activity, and remembered the lovely thoughts I gained from my time in the Berkshire this summer.

With rolling hills and quaint village like towns filled with ample music and art to nourish a contemplative soul such as myself, this New England haven provided days of pure enjoyment while I explored its art galleries, museums, gardens, and shops with my family. On one particular day I set off on my own to wander the lovely streets of Stockbridge, the dearly loved home of Norman Rockwell, and stumbled across a hidden cafe where I sipped chocolate infused chai and processed the sights, smells and sounds of my morning. Every part of me had been refreshed with nourishment for the road ahead. I had no idea at that time how busy life would become or how frantically I would long to be back in the Berkshires sipping chai with nothing significant to do; but rather I was inspired and hopeful for the upcoming adventures a new school year would deliver. In that moment I realized the importance of rhythm and balance in life. My cup was full and overflowing with the anticipation to give, work, create, and welcome. Yet if that cup was not poured out, the contents would become stagnant and useless. On the other hand, if I would continue to pour out without taking opportunity to refuel , I would be left drained of all resources with nothing to give. Therein, I was reminded of the many times God used quietness and solitude in the lives of His heroes to prepare them for the wearisome, stormy battles ahead. Moses had his desert, David had his pasture, and Elijah had his brook. The contemplation of such great lives enjoying moments of refreshment encouraged me to breathe in and enjoy the calm with deep contentment.

Since that day in the Berkshire, life's pace has quickened to the beat of battle for the sake of four growing souls entrusted to my care. The days of nurturing, praying, teaching, talking, listening, exemplifying find my weary body ready to collapse into bed each night for a few moments of respite before another day dawns, but I take refreshment in remembering that time where my soul was restored, and my body prepared to do the work I have before me. And I take courage, knowing that the Restorer of my soul knows my weaknesses and infirmities and gives pockets of refreshment along the way to give me strength for the wonderful journey He has placed before me.

The Doors of the Berkshire

2009-09-29T00:01:00.011-06:00

Historic Boston

2009-08-12T14:46:00.034-06:00

After logging several hours in the car, we finally arrived in Boston, the historical landmark of our nation's freedom. What an amazing time we had walking the Freedom Trail, riding the T-rail, eating in the North End, and visiting the New England Aquarium. We packed so many things into two and a half short days, but the memories we made will last a lifetime! Here is a list of some of our favorites:

Riding the T-rail with hundreds of Red Sox fans into Boston from our hotel near Riverside
Walking through the Boston Public Gardens and envisioning Mr. and Mrs. Duck and their happy, quacky family from the book, Make Way For Ducklings by Robert McClosky
Winding along the Freedom Trail in the middle of downtown Boston to the Granary Burial Grounds where lie such great American patriots as Paul Revere, Crispus Attucks, Samuel Adams, and John Hancock
Remembering a key moment of our nation's history below the balcony where first was read the Declaration of Independence
Standing on the very ground of the Boston Massacre and contemplating its significance to the Revolutionary War
Watching a street magician perform outside Faneuil Hall before crowds of curious people
Listening to the children recite Paul Revere's Ride by the doors of the Old North Church
Devouring mouth watering Pesto Alfredo at Little Italy's La Famiglia Giorgio's in Boston's North End followed by authentic pistachio gelato at a small quiet cafe across the street
Touring USS Constitution or "Old Ironsides" and USS Cassin Young before heading to Bunker Hill Monument
Dining at Warren's Tavern, the old pub where George Washington used to take his ale
Gazing at sharks and other sea creatures at the New England Aquarium
Waiting in a long line for world renowned cannoli from Mike's Pastry.....yum!!!!
Collapsing into bed at the end of a very long walking day only to be awoken at 2:00am by the fire alarm at the hotel

We had a marvelous time exploring the wonders of Boston together as a family, yet the short days spent there didn't do justice to the historic city. Maybe some day we will return to once again haunt the streets of Little Italy in the Old North End, and take in all of it's aroma of garlic and fresh baked bread before exploring the vast treasures of the great, historic landmark we have not yet discovered......

....but until then, we say good-bye, farewell, we hope to see you sometime again fair city of Boston!

Mom's Front Porch

2009-08-09T22:03:00.016-06:00

The winding road of my summer adventures carried me first to my mother's delightful front porch. Sipping cold iced tea while listening to happy children frolic about the large front yard situated so beautifully at the top of Whispering Oaks Lane brought great refreshment to my road weary soul. The rhythmic creaking of the swing and the wind rustling through the leaves created a subtle symphonic background for delightful conversations as well as contemplative moments of reading and thinking. New goals were set, prayers were prayed, books were read, and relationships were nourished because of the creative endeavors of my precious, hospitable mother.

As I soaked in the moments of refreshment, I contemplated the many memories of hospitality she demonstrated before me as a young girl. The doors of her home were always open, and her graciousness stretched to needy young children who came from broken homes, to lonely old men and women who often were overlooked by others, to isolated international students looking for a second family, to neighbors, to friends, to friends of her children, and most of all to her family. She could host intimate settings with simple food for a few, or create a smorgasbord of deliciousness for large gatherings.

Her legacy of hospitality created a burning desire within me to work a little harder, reach a little farther, give a little deeper of myself and my home in order to refresh the souls of others in the same manner I have seen her refresh so many. I left her home so thankful for her open door and extended arms, and so renewed for the trip I had before me.

The Winding Road

2009-07-28T23:38:00.021-06:00

With school days lurking just around the corner, I thought I would take the next few posts to share the adventures of my summer with you.

It all began just a few short days after school dismissed with packing, planning, and organizing all of the details needed to spend one month away from home, seventy hours in the van, 4,500 miles round trip with four busy children. With many anticipated adventures before me, I embarked on this journey fully equipped with games found here, stories on CD, activity pages found here, music, and DVDs in hopes of safe and peaceful travel.

Although there were moments of whining and back seat rivalries, sweet bonding took place through laughing at silly jokes, singing crazy songs, discussing deep subjects, listening to great stories, and playing creative car games as the van wound its way through Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, Canada, Michigan, and then back home again.

It was an amazing journey, and one I would take again. The memories that were made were worth all of the exhaustion, hard work, and trouble it took to go.

(Each child decorated their own binder of car games and activities and journaled their trip adventures in notebooks that I put together for them. They had a lot of fun with these, especially filling in all of the states on a US map of the liscense plates they saw.)

Books, Stories, the Ultimate Story

2009-07-23T10:37:00.016-06:00

In my home, books are beloved possessions. They get handled, read, loved daily. They carry my children on far away adventures, or teach them some new skill. They introduce young minds to the world of art, words, architecture, geography, and so much more. They are ready companions on a quiet day to both young and old alike. The words on their pages jump out and catch the attention of even a very young mind. They make an impact on use of words, creativity, and so much more. How grateful I am for the world of books, for their ability to say something to the soul of a child better than I can.

You see, I believe we are people of story. We love stories. We love to read them, tell them, hear them. We love to imagine our lives in them. Sometimes we love to hear the same story over and over again. For this reason, I love to find books that tell stories with deeper hidden truths. But more than that I love to tell the story of God to my children. You see, His story is the ultimate truth, and we are a part of it. It began in the beginning with His marvelous creation and carries on through time to today. It is a story of how He loves us and interacts with us. It is a story of Him as Creator of our very being, Father of our child heart, Shepherd over our wayward wandering, and Lover of our soul. It is the most amazing story ever told, and it never grows old.

The amazing thing about this story is that I know the Author. I met Him as a young child, and through the years have grown to know Him more. As I have grown to know Him, I have grown to love Him, and now long for each of my children to know Him. I want them to know that He is not a dry dictator full of rules and regulations, but rather the most intimate Friend they could ever have. I want them to hear His story over and over again, not as a tale of events of long ago, but as a living active story that they are a part of today. Then they, too, may love the Author and be filled with passion to share His story with the broken world around them.

I love the idea of sorting books by color. Perhaps then they might get put back on the shelf in the right place by my children. The inspiring collage was found at OhBrooke and the photo at HGTV.

Tiny Toolboxes

2009-07-22T13:57:00.009-06:00

With the lazy days of summer once again upon me, I am excited to blog once more. Having just returned from a month long journey East, I look forward to sharing those adventures with you in the days ahead. As for now, I have been perusing my favorite blog haunts discovering so many fabulous ideas. I thought I might share this one from Alpha Mom.

With my youngest son's birthday coming up in a month, this might a fun idea!

Project Inspired

2009-04-16T21:23:00.009-06:00

I am loving these projects from Diary of a Quilter and retro mama. Such fun, yet simple ideas that have sent me to my fabric box searching for the perfect scraps of material.

I suppose since Easter is past, I could wait on the eggs, and I think the quilt will also have to wait....

but I am very excited to begin work on the adorable 32 Minute Messenger Bag even if it takes me longer than 32 minutes!

Birthday Musings

2009-04-11T21:25:00.016-06:00

It was my son's birthday the other day, and because he is my little contemplative artist, a party fully decked out with watercolors, clay, paint palettes, and vibrant color seemed to fit the occasion. Inspired most recently by garlands, I decided to make my own from bits of paper, fishing line, and office stickers. I then added balloons and other touches to create a festive environment for the celebration.

The boys arrived, and I quickly put them to work at decorating the birthday banner. They did a wonderful job, and decided to add splotches of paint to the balloons above the table as well. Yes, "Boys will be boys!" In consideration of their need to throw, shoot, or climb, I sent the boys outside with squirt guns loaded with watered down paint in order to create a unique masterpiece. They tried so very hard to obey the rules and keep the guns aimed at the paper, but every so often a random shot was fired in the wrong direction. At least they had old t-shirts covering their clothes in order to prevent too much damage! After devouring the pizzas they created themselves, they played some games of Wii, opened presents (of course), and decorated their own ice cream sundaes. The concoctions of M&M's, pretzels, cherries, fudge, whipped cream, coconut, Reese's Pieces, and sprinkles turned out to be beautiful masterpieces.

The party was great fun and such a reminder of the amount of energy even a small group of boys can exude. What a privilege it is to guide that energy toward greatness. Although only seven now, I often wonder what this dear contemplative son of mine will become. Will he be a great artist, a musician, an architect, or perhaps an astronaut? The possibilities are endless. One thing I know, whatever he chooses, it is the prayer of my heart that he will do it to glorify the One who made him so uniquely talented.

Eye Candy: Garlands

2009-04-09T14:03:00.016-06:00

I love these images. As I am creating a garland of my own for my contemplative boy's birthday party, I am aware of the amount of work that went into creating these works of art. Beautiful!

Gorgeous origami photo by Snorkie Snork!. Inspiring garland by Sophie Cuvelier of Fabulous Garlands. Beautiful balloons by Tia Ramia.

Refreshed

2009-04-08T10:01:00.005-06:00

This morning I found myself completely exhausted in the midst of a very busy week of delightful surprises from my dear husband, birthday plans and parties, celebrations with family, athletic events of the children, lessons, meals, the everyday activities as mom. So with a cup of tea in hand I retreated to my sanctuary (my bedroom), and spent some time in prayer, reading, and muse over my life.

As I pondered the days before me, and the plans I have, I was reminded how my dear Lord is the Shepherd who not only guides me, but refreshes and strengthens me. He walks with me on this incredible journey of life, and holds me in His hands. He fills my cup, and He is enough.

I was also reminded of how simple this life of trust in God can be. There is no need to please, no need to strive, no need to scheme. There is only need to seek His face day by day, ONE DAY at a time. What joy and freedom this thought brings, to simply to live life hearing voice of the One who loves me to the depths of my very soul.

Spring Cookie Art

2009-03-23T23:26:00.015-06:00

Spring is here at last. To celebrate, I pulled out the cookie pans, cutters, and sprinkles, and whipped up some cookie dough and frosting for a delightful afternoon with my children. I love the imagination each one put into their creations. I love the refined beauty of my older daughters' cookies and the whimsical art of my sons' all piled together on one plate. I love the laughter, the joy, the conversation shared around a sticky table. I love the celebration tea that followed, and the dancing that concluded our day together. What a wonderful way to celebrate spring! The memories created today will not be forgotten.

Admirer or Follower?

2009-03-22T14:28:00.005-06:00

"The difference between an admirer and a follower still remains, no matter where you are. The admirer never makes any true sacrifices. He always plays it safe. Though in words, phrases, songs, he is inexhaustible about how highly he prizes Christ, he renounces nothing, gives up nothing, will not reconstruct his life, will not be what he admires, and will not let his life express what he supposedly admires."
Soren Kierkergaard

This quote has turned over and over again in my mind for the past few weeks. Its depth has pierced my soul with conviction. Truly I admire Christ, all that He is, and all that He has done for me. My heart is full of deep affection, but has this affection led me to give up all that I have and all that I am? Have I laid down my life for His? Have I followed Him to the cross? Or do I still hold on to earthly ties?

I want to be considered as one who follows my Lord, but this following comes with great cost. Sometimes the cost seems too great, but is it really? What cost is too great for the One who gave up his right to be king, and came humbly as a poor man to this earth to live a short life, then die? He lived to die. If I am a true follower of Him, my purpose will also be to live to die.

I like how the Message translation of Luke 14:33 says it. It states, "Simply put, if you're not willing to take what is dearest to you, whether plans or people, and kiss it good-bye, you can't be my disciple."

Living to die, truly is a process. At the moment I finally give in and die to that thing I hold so dear, I am confronted by yet something else that lies deeper, something embedded into my heart that my selfish soul refuses to let go of. Then the dying process begins yet anew. For this reason Paul said "I am crucified with Christ." In other words, I am daily dying.

There is beauty, though, in this death, this being "ruined" of soul. It is the life of freedom that follows. Freedom to be a true disciple of Christ. You see, the more self dies, the more joyful life becomes. Although the process is hard, as death is painful, the resurrection of life that follows is beyond compare.

Cupcake Inspired

2009-03-16T23:32:00.004-06:00

These days I find myself inspired by delectable bites of pastries creatively decorated with creamy waves of frosting. So many ideas exist to spark the imagination, but this little one from Martha Stewart declares "spring" in such a simple way.

You see, I love to make celebrations with my family out of ordinary days. For it is in these celebrations that memories are made and relationships are forged. So when I see these lovely pictures I am reminded in my hurry-scurry world to stop, create, and celebrate the little moments of life before they slip away.

The Sacrifice of Trust

2009-02-04T08:17:00.006-07:00

I sit here this morning having found my soul pondering what it is to trust God in the lives of my children. As a mother, I want to give them good things: to train them to live rightly: to point them in the right direction: to give wise counsel: to protect them from evil: to keep them from making mistakes they may later regret. This burden fills my heart as I am sure it fills the heart of many mothers. It compels me to speak, to train, to give. But last night, as I was praying, I was pierced with conviction of the Holy Spirit, that perhaps I have not always trusted Him and His way of speaking to my children. Perhaps I speak more words than necessary, particularly in the lives of my older children where they have to find their own way with the Lord. Their faith cannot be mine. They must have their own. They must make mistakes and learn from them. The words of Oswald Chambers ring in my ears, "The one passion of Paul's life was to proclaim the Gospel of God. He welcomed heartbreaks, disillusionment, tribulation, for one reason only, because these things kept him in unmoved devotion to the Gospel of God."

Truly, the one and only thing I long for in my children is for them to love God with all of their heart, soul, and mind and to love the people of this world as the Lord does. I do not care what this looks like in each of their lives, for it will look very different from one child to another. Yet this may bring heartache, disappointment, pain that I cannot shield them from. Can I trust the Lord with this? Can I stand back, keep my mouth closed and my opinions to myself when the Holy Spirit calls me to silence? Truly, I feel the immense conflict that must have been in the soul of Abraham as he lay Isaac on the altar. The pain of the altar is real. Without that pain, it would not be called sacrifice.

This does not mean that I cannot speak into their lives, but it does mean that I want to be so sensitive to the Holy Spirit that I only speak when compelled by Him to do so. There is so much He sees that I cannot. There is so much He wants to show them Himself, and I do not want to stand in His way. Can I trust Him to speak to them in times of need? Can I let go? If my children are to find intimacy with the Savior, I must.

This trust is a daily sacrifice, but it is a trust in the One who created the universe yet cares for the sparrow who falls to the ground. It is a trust in the One who numbers the stars yet knows the number of hair on my head. It is the trust of Hannah who gave Samuel to the temple once weaned, because she knew who God was. Yes, I say with joyful confidence mingled with the pain of sacrifice, "I am counting on God."

Stories of Grandma

2008-12-26T23:27:00.003-07:00

Today is the day of my dear Grandma's memorial service. Although I am sad to miss it, my heart is full of wonderful stories of moments with her.

My earliest memories begin with Sunday afternoon tea in her home. As a little girl, I was made to feel as welcome as any of the adult guests. There was something about Grandma's way that made me feel like a princess. She would pour my tea in a special china cup and give me one of her delightful homemade cookies. She would then pull out the baby dolls and blankets and assure herself of my comfort before visiting with her other guests.

As I grew older, I had opportunities to spend more time with Grandma. I will never forget the walks we used to take around her small rural community. My legs would have to work twice as hard to keep up with her brisk pace, yet the chats we had in those walks were precious. The evidence of her love for her Savior and those around her was very clear.

She loved serving others, and this was most exemplified in the quilts she made. Every one of her children and grandchildren received a beautiful quilt from her. Every new born baby in her family and church were blessed by a soft blanket, lovingly crafted at the hands of Grandma. Many children in foreign lands were also blessed as Grandma quilted hundreds of baby blankets to be sent via missionaries overseas.

Grandma served others even in the last days of her life. Along with creating soft, cuddly blankets, she would bake lots of cookies. She was always ready to welcome company with a warm cup of tea to her small retirement village apartment, and at the age of ninety-two she chose to bless others without consideration for herself.

Grandma is a hero of mine. As she enters Heaven's gates, she will hear the voice of her Savior proclaim "Well done, good and faithful servant." She has blessed so many lives, and I count it a great privilege to have known her.

I Love Christmas!

2008-12-20T21:15:00.018-07:00

The Christmas season is upon me with all of its tastes, sounds, colors, and experiences. Reds and greens fill my home with festive color. Yummy treats and holiday favorites are prepared. Cookie dough is rolled out by small hands and cut into holiday shapes. Sprinkles and frosting cover the table after cookie masterpieces have been prepared....

Gingerbread houses are constructed from tasty confections while sticky fingers enjoy the labor...

Beautiful memories are made of times like these. Times that are somewhat messy and very busy, but times that are full of love and laughter. Flour covered floors, frosted table legs, sparkled carpets are some of the messes left behind after so much creativity. Yet the wonderful time spent together remains imprinted upon my memory long after the messes are cleaned up. It is my favorite season of the year!

Beauty and Ideals

2008-12-07T22:42:00.003-07:00

Tonight I sit and contemplate the hectic schedule of the season and find myself overwhelmed. I am tempted to throw my hands in the air and give up, yet something inside me stirs me to create beauty amidst the chaos. Although I am weary, I am encouraged by the words of another idealist, Sarah Clarkson. By her thoughts I am motivated to press on. I have new vision for creating beauty and memories for my family this Christmas. I know it will take hard work and sacrifice to continue with special traditions, but the cherished relationships and hearts moved toward worship are worth every effort.

I encourage you to read Sarah's thoughts on ideals at her blog, The Itinerant Idealist, and may you find encouragement to add beauty to your life this season as you seek to keep Christ in Christmas.

2008-11-21T20:19:00.010-07:00

A boy with a tub of water becomes.....

.....my own sweet kitchen elf.

I wonder how long he will let me cut his hair like this???

Happy Birthday To My Little Boy

2008-08-29T22:47:00.005-06:00

Childhood is such a wondrous time of beauty and joy. Although it passes all too quickly, I savor the moments to celebrate it. I cherish its hugs and kisses. I marvel at its simple pleasures. There is such beauty in the simplicity of these days of play. To watch as little hands spend hours arranging and caring for their new "animal" friends brings both delight and satisfaction to my soul. What will these little hands grow up to to? Who will they bless? Ah, may they be hands that raise in adoration to the Heavenly Father and hands that stretch out to comfort weary souls.

Back to School!

2008-08-25T22:00:00.006-06:00

As my children skipped out the door early this morning carrying backpacks full of freshly sharpened pencils and crisp clean paper, their hearts were full of anticipation for what the new school year will bring. The excitement of meeting friends, experiencing different teachers, and finding their new classrooms prompted expediency to their school morning routines. The days to come will be filled with new challenges for each one of them, but it is such a blessing to see their enthusiasm to begin. It is a reminder to me of how new beginnings are precious. May I learn to look at each new day with the same fervent spirit I saw in my precious ones this morning.

"The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22,23

Trifle Messes

2008-08-19T22:34:00.005-06:00

As I stepped downstairs to tuck my precious children into bed tonight, I was greeted by a most unsightly mess. The sight of books flung across the room, tinker toys and matchbox cars strewn underfoot, and clothes mounded into unkempt piles was enough to rattle my already very tired nerves. After digging through the chaos to find my son's bed, I found myself lecturing (nagging) my poor, unsuspecting little disciples. In a huff, I plopped myself down to pray with each one, but before the first could finish I found myself ashamed of the words I so quickly had spoken. The day had been very busy, full of mommy projects that tore my time away from them. As Abigail and I organized school supplies, cleaned backpacks, washed uniforms, etc., the younger three created stores full of wonders and trinkets in their bedrooms. They unloaded dressers to create a clothing boutique. They gathered books from throughout the house to host their own "Barnes and Noble" bookstore. They emptied toy bins to showcase in their unique toy store. They raided the monopoly game of all its paper money, and set up for a grand time. In all honesty, they were occupied for hours without grumbling or fighting with one another, yet I chose to focus on the mess instead of their pleasant spirit of unity and creativity. Quickly, I retracted the words spoken, asked for forgiveness of my selfish attitude, and promised to help them clean it up in the morning. Wearily, I trudged up the stairs to ponder the moments I have to spend with these dear children and reminded myself that relationships are far more valuable than finished projects and a clean home. May I not be so quick to forget this precious truth the next time my wearied soul encounters such trifle messes.

Dive In

2008-08-13T07:09:00.004-06:00

Summer, with its lazy days, beautiful hikes, afternoon swims, and fresh lemonade is coming to an end. School days are nearly upon us, but our family is enjoying one last excuse to stay up late together as our eyes are turned toward the historical Olympic events taking place in China. We have found ourselves in awe with the rest of the world at the art and beauty of the opening ceremonies. We have engaged in discussions of the incredible contrast between the beauty of the games and the darkness so many face as they live under the oppressive Chinese government. We have prayed in hope for our pastors and friends who have gone through the open door of the Olympic games into China, encouraging and strengthening the hearts of persecuted Christians there. And we have rooted and cheered for the athletes who have trained so hard to be a part of this unfolding drama.

As we have watched swimmers, gymnasts, volleyball players, divers, cyclists, etc., many thoughts and analogies come to mind. One that has most impressed me though relates to the world of swimming. As I listened to the commentators speak of the great starts, the beautiful strokes, the powerful turns, the big finishes, my mind wandered back to my childhood years. Growing up under the shadows of my great swimming brother, I have no memory of not knowing how to swim. The privilege of cooling off in our own indoor pool prepared me to join him on the swim team at an early age. Step by step I learned strokes, kicks, turns, then starts. Endurance was built as I swam long distances with intervals of hard fast sprints. The basics were refined to create a better, faster, more streamlined race. "No pain, no gain," was the motto often quoted by my coach. There was always room for improvement, always room for growth. Likewise is my walk with the Coach of my soul, my Savior. I love how F.J. Huegel puts it in his book Bone of His Bone; "Mature Christians who have experienced an inner crucifixion, and who know what it means to count upon Christ's death, reckoning themselves dead to sin, and alive unto God through Christ, even after a lapse of years, are led to discover deeper depths of the 'self life'...However deep they may have gone, Calvary has for them still undreamed of depths of crucifixion. It is both a position once and for all taken by an act of faith, in which the believer commits himself to the place God assigns in the death of His Son, and a process of growth in which the believer appropriates, according to his need, an ever deeper life of communion with the Savior's death." To know Him and be conformed to His death (Philippians 3:10) is my life long journey. May I be ready each day to dive in with all that I am.

Summer Musings

2008-08-06T22:28:00.018-06:00

Summer and all of its wonders are nearing an end. As I write, I hear raindrops on the rooftop and my mind wanders to the incredible memories of lazy days, long hikes, late night movies, and dances on the beach. It has truly been a season of much needed rest. The days to unwind began with a long anticipated family reunion in Alabama. Cousins played in the shade of the trees and prepared summer concerts as adults sipped iced tea on Jenny's lovely southern front porch. Our reunion then moved on to Florida in a fifteen passenger van cramped with giggles and all the gear needed to enjoy our stay at the beach. We arrived at a lovely hotel and quickly found ourselves immersed in the wonders of the ocean. Upon our first excursion into the waters, we found an overpopulation of jellyfish. But this did not dampen our spirits, and soon all of the cousins were catching the creatures in nets supplied by Mama and Papa. The sounds of crashing waves and children's giggles are still imprinted upon my memory. When I consider the vastness of the ocean, my heart sings "How Great Is Our God." How incredible the thought, the One who made all of these wonders seeks a relationship with me. The God who made stars in the heavens so immense that earth is but dust in comparison, came to earth to die so that I could know Him intimately. Considering it causes my heart to swell with joy and my to feet dance in freedom. Like a little child, I bask in the wonder of my Father's love, and pray I will never lose that childish heart towards Him.

Thanks Mama and Papa for a wonderful trip.