yarn along

I'm joining Ginny at small things where she spotlights two of her {and my} favorite things, knitting and reading.

Here is a peek at what's in my knitting bag today:

yarn along

I'm joining Ginny over at small things in her loves of reading and knitting.

My knits and my reading are out of the norm for me, but both enjoyable.

For Christmas, my kids received the movie "Despicable Me" from cousins. We watched it as a family and it was so cute. Since, we've quoted these little guys and giggled every time we see them. I found my pattern for them on Ravelry.com...and my little minions will find them in their Easter baskets.

The book: Choosing to See. We've always enjoyed listening to Steven Curtis Chapman's music and friends sang "I Will Be Here" at our wedding ceremony. I remember learning of the tragedy his family had endured and crying for them. I wanted to hear Mary Beth speak at Women of Faith, but couldn't get there last year. 

Her book is raw and real. I think I can attribute some of my own tenderness recently to being in the midst of their story. Their family has allowed God to redeem their heartache and now they share it with power and grace. 

And the last pic is a little project we tackled today from Family Fun magazine.  Silly and fun. Bug's have cheeks because the "dye-vers" are holding their breath. And Bean's have eyelashes, of course.

"Bono-jour"

Still loving the book and I'm almost finished. 

Can I share some of my favorite excerpts? It's a lot...you ready? I can't republish the whole thing, so these are just pieces. If you read the interview I posted before, some of this may be familiar. {Michka Assaya's words are in boldface.The highlights are mine.}

God, in His sneaky-up-on-me, perfectly-timed way, is using this book to articulate some of the  wrestling matches I've had with my faith. Who knew Bono would clear so much up for me?

On his faith: 

p. 85

I do see the good in people, but I also see the bad – I see it in myself. I know what I’m capable of, good and bad. It’s very important that we make that clear. Just because I often find a way around the darkness doesn’t mean that I don’t know it’s there.

p. 186

Who was the first televangelist you saw on TV?

It was a preacher who was asking his audience in TV land to put their hand against the screen to be healed. So there were people, old ladies with bronchitis, old ladies with broken hips, and probably people with cancer, all over America, getting out of their armchairs and putting their hands on the TV. It broke my heart. But remember I was a believer. Though I understood the power of the Scriptures they were quoting from, and I did believe in the healing powers of faith, I was seeing it debased and demeaned. But unlike a lot of people, I understood the language. What’s always bothered me about the fundamentalists is that they seem preoccupied with the most obvious sins. If those sins, sexual immorality and drug addiction, come out of unhappiness, then I’m sure God wants to set people free of that unhappiness. But I couldn’t figure out why the same people were never questioning the deeper, slyer problems of the human spirit like self-righteousness, judgmentalism, institutional greed, corporate greed. You only have to look to unfair trade agreements that keep the developing world in the Dark Ages to see the hypocrisy I’m talking about. These people talk about the debasing of culture. What about the debasing of hundreds of thousands of real lives?

p. 221-22

It’s true. Yeah, smashing other people to pieces doesn’t need the same conviction. Most terrorists want to change the material world. Well, add eternity to that, and people can go a lot further to pursue their ends. It’s a big prize, isn’t it, eternity? It’s not a two-term or a three-term presidency. [laughs] But of course, this is always a corruption of some holy thesis, whether it’s the Koran or the Bible. My understanding of the Scriptures has been made simple by the person of Christ. Christ teaches that God is love. What does that mean? What it means for me: a study of the life of Christ. Love here describes itself as a child born in straw poverty, the most vulnerable situation of all, without honor. I don’t let my religious world get too complicated. I just kind of go: Well, I think I know what God is. God is love and as much as I respond [sighs] in allowing myself to be transformed be that love and acting in that love, that’s my religion. Where things get complicated for me, is when I try to live this love. Now, that’s not so easy.

What about the God of the Old Testament? He wasn’t so “peace and love.”

There’s nothing hippie about my picture of Christ. The Gospels paint a picture of a very demanding, sometime divisive love, but love it is. I accept the Old Testament as more of an action movie: blood, car chases, evacuations, a lot of special effects, seas dividing, mass murder, adultery. The children of God are running amok, wayward. Maybe that’s why they’re so relatable. But the way we would see it, those of us who are trying to figure out our Christian conundrum, is that the God of the Old Testament is like the journey from stern father to friend. When you’re a child, you need clear directions and some strict rules. But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for, as in the Old Testament , it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship. The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at a Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross.

p. 223

Speaking of bloody action movies, we were talking about South and Central America last time. The Jesuit priests arrived there with the gospel in one hand and a rifle in the other.

I know, I know. Religion can be the enemy of God. It’s often what happens when God, like Elvis, has left the building. [laughs] A list of instructions where there once was conviction; dogma where once people just did it; a congregation led by a man where once they were led by the Holy Spirit. Discipline replacing discipleship.

p. 225

Just for the last time, I would like to go back to our tour of the dark side of religion. Appalling things seem to happen when people become religious at too early an age or when their experience of life is nonexistent. Don’t you think?

Zealots often have no love for the world. They’re just getting through it to the next one. It’s a favorite topic. It’s the old cliche’: “Eat shit now, pie in the sky when you die.” But I take Christ at his word: “On Earth as it is in Heaven.” As to the first part of your question, in my experience, the older you get, the less chance you have to transform your life, the less open you are to live in a challenging way. You tend towards love that’s more comforting and safe.

As I told you, I think I am beginning to understand religion because I have started acting and thinking like a father. What do you make of that?

Yes, I think that’s normal. It’s a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the Universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma.

I haven’t heard you talk about that.

 I really believe we’ve moved out of the realm of Karma into one of Grace.

Well, that doesn’t make it clearer for me.

You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics – in physical laws – every action in met by an equal or an opposite one. It’s clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the Universe. I’m absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that ”As you reap, so will you sow” stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff.

The son of God who takes away the sins of the world. I wish I could believe in that.

But I love the idea of the Sacrificial Lamb. I love the idea that God says: Look, you cretins, there are certain results to the way we are, to selfishness, and there’s mortality as part of you very sinful nature and let’s face it, You’re not living a very good life, are you? There are consequences to actions. The point of the death of Christ is that Christ took on the sins of the world, so that what we put out did not come back to us, and that our sinful nature does not reap the obvious death. That’s the point. It should keep us humbled…It’s not our own good works that get us through the gates of Heaven.

That’s a great idea, no denying it, Such great hope is wonderful, even though it’s close to lunacy, in my view. Christ has his rank among the world’s great thinkers. But Son of God, isn’t that farfetched?

No, it’s not farfetched to me, Look, the secular response to the Christ story always goes like this: he was a great prophet, obviously a very interesting guy, had a lot to say along the lines of other great prophets, be they Elijah, Muhammad, Buddha, or Confucius. But actually Christ doesn’t allow you that. He doesn’t let you off that hook. Christ says: No. I’m not saying I’m a teacher, don’t call me teacher. I’m not saying I’m a prophet. I’m saying “I’m the Messiah.” I’m saying: “I am God incarnate.” And people say: No, no, please, just be a prophet. A prophet, we can take. You’re a bit eccentric. We’ve had John the Baptist eating locusts and wild honey, we can handle that. But don’t mention the “M” word! Because, you know, we’re gonna have to crucify you. And he goes: No, no. I know you’re expecting me to come back with an army, and set you free from these creeps, but actually I am the Messiah.  At this point, everyone starts staring at their shoes, and says: Oh, my God, he’s gonna keep saying this.  So what you’re left is: either Christ was who He said He was – the Messiah – or a complete nutcase. I mean, we’re talking nutcase on the level of Charles Manson. This man was like some of the people we’ve been talking about earlier. This man was strapping himself to a bomb, and had “King of the Jews” on his head, and, as they were putting him up on the Cross, was going: OK, martyrdom, here we go. Bring on the pain! I can take it. I’m not joking here. The idea that the entire course of civilization for over half of the globe could have its fate changed and turned upside-down by a nutcase, for me, that’s farfetched.

p. 228

He was a bit like you, wasn’t He?

No, He only thought He was Bono! [laughs for quite a while] No, but seriously, if we only could be a bit more like Him, the world would be transformed. All I do is get up on the Cross of the Ego: the bad hangover, the bad review. When I look at the Cross of Christ, what I see up there is all my shit and everybody else’s. So I ask myself a question a lot of people have asked: Who is the man? And was He who He said He was, or was He just a religious nut? And there It is, and that’s the question. And no one can talk you into it or out of it.

it's all coming together

So, there's this guy...maybe you've heard of him. He's in a fairly well-known rock band, started in the late 70's...an Irish lad.

Née Paul Hewson, you may know him as Bono.

He's becoming part of my life.

You may or may not know...I am fond of all things Irish. Christy Moore, claddagh rings, colcannon, shamrock shakes, Peter Rollins and that charming accent. {And how funny that as I type, with volume low, Rudy Maxa is on PBS visiting Ireland. Synchronicity, indeed. Or, in prep for St. Patrick's Day, I suppose.}

Long have I had an appreciation for Bono's Irishicity and his music. But because I tend more to the jam-band, bluegrass, and folk genres, I haven't spent much time listening to the more intense sounds of U2.

I should add, the soundtrack of my freshman volleyball season was The Joshua Tree, rockin' my K-Swiss and trying to catch a glimpse of my junior boy crush walking by the gym doors. Good times.

So, the little I've known about Bono is that he's a man of faith...but of which faith I was not clear. Intrigued, I read this article when it arrived in my mailbox, years ago. It remained in my interesting read pile for months, but I never really deciphered a clear answer.

Fast forward to last week, when the wise wife of a former pastor of mine posted this link on Facebook. I liked. I shared. Again, I was intrigued by the excerpt of the conversational biography...and immediately clicked on my library's website and requested a copy of the 2005 book, Bono: in conversation with Michka Assayas. I'm on page 89.

Intertwined with the anecdotes of Catholic schools, family heartaches, and raucous touring, is a thread of faith. An authentic one. With a fearless journey through doubt and the systemic failures of religion. In spite of all the shiny things that could render him ineffective, a sincere devotion to God and his people thrives...without arrogance or expectation. And I'm only on page 89.

His faith resonates with me. It's the kind I want to grow into. Embracing the seeming contradictions and settling into a solid, purposeful, joyful faith. Finding clarity in the simple life of Jesus. A faith in which Christ's love is the standard against which all else is measured. 

{Don't be alarmed...I'm not taking religious instruction from Bono; his is an example of how a life of 

faith, doubt and devotion through both, can be lived.}

Paradigms are shifting for me. For a year now, my comfort {and my husband's} in my church home has been and is being challenged. Not a bad thing at all, actually. And no, that doesn't necessarily mean leaving, but maybe. It's easy to table that discussion when we aren't home together often and I'm not visiting any other churches without him.

The stretching at first caused me to panic...but as the pain recedes I am left with a disillusionment with humans and their religion but still a vibrant love and trust for the Most-High God. I shouldn't be following man anyway...keeping my eyes on the heavens. He is burning the dross away and I am grateful for the fresh perspective. 

{I'm still working on that "favorite church" post where I try to explain the disillusionment. Perhaps the greatest deficit in my intellect is the ability to compose a thorough but concise, clear but original, timely answer to any question. Many of you have suffered through some of my blundering, blubbering, bet-ya-wished-you hadn't asked answers. So, right now, that post is ridiculously long and convoluted and I won't be subjecting you to it just yet.}

Turns out, Sweet Man has been listening Bono for months...old stuff, new stuff {Thank you, Pandora!} He shared one of his favorites with me. Now it's one of mine. Proceed with caution...it's pretty sexy stuff.

Yarn Along

Two of my favorite things: knitting and reading. Linked up with Ginny at small things again.

This week is fuh-lying by! There has been little time to read or knit. Monday, we did have a quiet day at home. So Bean and I were snuggled up reading these two books. On my needles is a mitten that matches the headband from last week. Not sure who it's for, yet. 

{Bean's skirt is still on the needles. It will hopefully be a quick finish...but may be bumped to a birthday gift for her in January. We have 3 chapters to go in Peter Pan. And the Lisa Samson book that I said I would finish within the week is still on my headboard. I read a little and get sleepy. Not a comment on her writing...just my lack of time to read or sleep.}

Yarn Along

Joining Ginny at small things and others in another Yarn Along.

As you can see, I have a new project barely started...another headband/earwarmer.

Alas, today will be dedicated to sewing door draftstoppers and designing our Christmas cards...after our usual school day. I may not get to my needles for a while.

Still no Christmas decorations...but maybe this afternoon.

 

Bean discovered this forgotten book that I found at a garage sale last summer...$1 ~ score! It includes the original versions of The Wind in the Willows, The Jungle Book, Alice in Wonderland, and Peter Pan. The pictures of Barrie's Peter Pan must have intrigued her and so we find ourselves in Neverland at least once a day. It is a lovely place to be. 

It's snowing here and the kids are begging to go out and play. Welcome December!

{Update: Draftstoppers ~ check. Bit of merrymaking ~ check. And it's still snowing.}

Yarn Along 2

My goodness...it's been a week since I posted. No worries, though. Sweet Daddy arrived home Friday and we've been enjoying time with him and catching up with other loved ones.

My Yarn Along this week is a quick knit {Headband/Ear Warmers}...when I say quick, you know I mean I started it and ripped it out and started again about three times, right? Once I was going, it finished up in about 2 hours and was perfect for a long, windy walk.

My read is a book I've been reading bit by bit for a few months now The Core: Teaching Your Child the Foundations of Classical Education, Leigh A. Bortins {the founder of Classical Conversations.} An encouraging and confirming book for anyone considering Classical education.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Speaking of which, Small Things is not linking today because of the holiday.

Yarn Along

I love Ginny's idea over at Small Things where she does a weekly Wednesday post highlighting a current read and a current handmade project. Since I operate in much the same way...toting a bag around with me containing a book and a project...ready for an opportunity to work on either...I have accepted her linking invitation.

{Yuck...I took this pic after dark last night with the lamp on...next time I'll surely try with sunlight.}

I picked up another Lisa Samson {she's my favorite, dontcha know!!} book last week. This one is a pretty lighthearted read...from the p.o.v. of a teenage girl. I may be done with it by the end of the week. Of course, it is the third in a series...haven't read the other ones, yet. That, apparently, is my M.O. 

And I'm knitting a Christmas skirt for Bean...right under her nose. She keeps asking what it is and I answer that I haven't decided yet. Is that wrong?

Home again, home again

We're here, friends. And it's good. And decidedly boring. No big outings...just reading in front of the fireplace, watching a little PBS.

Coming home, I confess that I shed a few tears when I opened my silverware drawer and saw the knives for which I registered lo these 11 years ago. Silly, I know...I didn't expect to have that reaction. But after 2+ months in spaces owned by others, I'm sinking back in to this house and enjoying using our things.  I still don't understand why it's important for me to be in my own space, but I guess it is. It must be part of the American dream v. kingdom of God struggle I have. 

We haven't been without a little distress...Bug and I were sick as of Wednesday. He, with a little stomach bug and me, with a sinus infection. He was fine the next day. And at the first hint of my sore throat, I sucked down Emer-gen-C and oscillococcinum...love that stuff. By yesterday, I was back to normal. 

Thursday, my sly friend asked me to watch her kiddos while she went to an appointment. I asked if when she came back, I could go to the grocery to do my big shop sans enfants. But then she canceled her appointment, and still granted me an hour and half of kidsitting. Very sneaky, sweet friend! Thank you and I owe you!

Stocked up are we. I can barely close my freezer. I've decided I'm done with the I'm out of a couple things, we need to run to the store nonsense...especially when I'm a single mom. I bought 3 of anything non-perishable and 2 of perishables. Totally went over our grocery budget for the month. Speaking of which, we are an all cash household! No more credit card purchases except to gain points or order something from afar. The monkey is off our back and it feels so good.

Friday, we shared lunchtime with other dear friends and made a trip to the library and a little thrifting.

Saturday, we had brunch at Opa and Anne's house. They had built a huge leaf pile {Mount Leafmore} and the dogs and kids rolled around in it...I think there were some adults in on the action, too. It was a lovely afternoon, sitting on the porch, knitting and visiting with Anne. We were able to catch up with the neighbors a little, too. Heading home after a while, we had de-leafing showers and attended a great Saturday night church service.

Sunday, I indulged my crunchy tendencies...a batch of granola for my favorite breakfast, a batch of granola bars for my boy. Cooking up a storm. Yesterday, a meal for my friend who just had a baby and some Corndog Muffins for the kids. I'm thinking about whipping up some sourdough starter...never done that before.

So fun being able to catch up with friends and family. To shop in our familiar aisles and go to our library and get too many books. The library cracked open its borrowing policy like I was Aladdin at the mouth of the cave. I uttered the magic words...I'm a teacher. Bingo, bango...6 weeks of time with these tomes...and we may need every bit of that to get through this stack. Bug has recently discovered Encyclopedia Brown  and Judy Blume {don't worry, just the Fudge books...not the other ones ;) }

Sweet Man returns home this Friday for 10 days. He thinks he will tackle getting our back fence up and building bunk beds for the babes. You go, babe.

radical {baby} steps, part 2

We need a dose of global thinking in our home. I wake up with nearsighted glasses...focusing on the immediate circumstances of life...meal preparation, schedule, errands, laundry, and mostly how can I maximize my comfort today?

I desperately need a reminder to look around me and most importantly up. 

My kids need it, too. All of us can so quickly go from this is the best day ever to why me? why can't I have that? it's so not fair.... 

They follow their momma's lead, y'all.

So, perspective...how can I effectively make it part of our day? 

When a why me? tantrum erupts with my kids, my immediate response is to holler getagrip! at the plaintiff. You have no idea how good your life is! 

I go on to explain about living conditions of faceless, nameless people.  Sometimes, I may even go as far as to describe groups who are not allowed to express their faiths or don't have the chance to even know about Jesus. I imagine they hear my Charlie Brown headless adult voice.

Abstract...meaningless. Maybe they understand...but is it really sinking in with them me? {Sidenote: I do recognize groups of people, who may not have immediate challenges of just surviving the next day, also have the need for the grace of the Savior. We all need the good news of the gospel.}

I want to discuss specifics with Bug and Bean. I mean, point to the country on the world map, look at faces, talk about foods and houses, and imagine what it would be like to have to hide to go to church. {My radical friend, takes that one step further to get the message across to her brood...so radical.}

I've read about other families using a prayer guide to focus on praying for people around the world.Wouldn't it be great if I had written those book titles down somewhere? Or bookmarked the pages? Yes, what a fabulous, organized idea that would have been....

There are several daily prayer guides available...but I'm impatient. I want to find something to use during our couch time...tuh-day. 

The last chapter of Radical outlines ways that we can implement God's principles in a practical way. {Thank you, David Platt...I appreciate specific tasks and just need a point in the right direction.} He references Operation World and their prayer guide as a way to increase awareness and actively pray for people around the world, daily for a year.

When I checked out the website, I found this and clicked on Pray Today and found information about the country and people Operation World is praying for this very day. Jackpot! {The organization has a larger book and other materials available.}

So, we've included global prayer in our couch time last week. We use the computer to look up the guide, I read some of the information about the people, and then I do a search: "images name of country  people."  As we pray, we flip through the images...the visual connects us me with reality.

Perhaps someday we can meet some of these people...but for now, how exciting that we can learn about them and their cultures and pray for them like God asks us. 

I believe prayer can move God and absolutely change circumstances...I am hoping it will also move and change our family.

{Added later:} A quote from Radical : “We learned that orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. They are easier to ignore before you see their faces. It is easier to pretend they’re not real before you hold them in your arms. But once you do, everything changes” (139).


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Don't forget to enter for your chance in the giveaway...leave a comment on yesterday's post.

radical {baby} steps & a radical giveaway

*gulp*

I'm nervous about this post. It's of the thinking out loud, composing my thoughts sort. Expect some transparency. And some disjointed thought. Please do not interpret any presumption on my part...please don't infer an assault on your life...this is truly me working through God's message for me through this book. Okay, done with the disclaimers.

I have finally finished Radical. I hear you...it's about time...I've been reading it since May/Iowa. Whatev....do you want to hear the scoop?

Actually, there are so many other people who have more beautiful and intelligent things to say, like here. {Really, please read that link...His words through her are exquisite.}

Proceed with caution...the words may compel you to read the book...or send you running in the other direction. The book may mess with your head...or your life. If you are active in a fellowship, you'll question why you attend a certain church. If you are shaken like me, you'll begin to really pay attention to every dollar you spend {which is a very good thing for me, indeed.} If you lean to the radical already, well, watch out, world.

Watch this.

Radical by David Platt from Taylor Robinson on Vimeo.

So, thoughts... well, first my definitions based on my understanding and my experiences....


The American dream: If I work hard and treat people well, I will be rewarded with a fulfilling and comfortable life...and that's heaven enough for now. 


The gospel of grace: I can do nothing to earn my way into heaven. I deserve separation from God for my mistakes. The only way for me to join God in heaven is to believe and accept the sacrifice He has given for me in His son, Jesus. And because His love is better than my life, I should be willing to sacrifice anything to share the news and glorify Him.

Oh, yeah, we're getting right into it.

David Platt, author and pastor of an Alabama church, challenges followers of Christ to examine the contradiction between the American dream and God's gospel of grace. They cannot be assimilated...they don't fit together. He asserts that the individual cannot be believing and working toward the advancement of both. As a believer, I must choose one course...the success of me or Him.

My responsibility as a recipient of His grace and a follower of Christ is to share the news and extend that grace by sacrificially giving {my time, my material possessions, my loved ones, my commitment to giving in spite of what others do with my time & money, everything I have} all the while giving Him the credit. Period.  Specifically, God asks me to take care of the widows and orphans. And to go and talk to others about Christ...wherever they may be. 

Overwhelming.

Thank God, He's already given me a little insight.

I have a voice in my head that says, You deserve this. You've worked hard and been good. It's time to indulge. My American dream, right? Be it food, or spending, or comfort, or squandering time...the message and motivation are the same.  

The voice makes sense to me...partly because it seems logical...cause and effect, right? And partly because I have heard that message all my life as a middle-class American. Mostly, I believe it because I like a justified indulgence. 

But my American dream needs to be continually exposed in the light of the gospel. I'm beginning to recognize the arrogance of a selfish perpetuation of a culture of comfort which distracts me from my greater purpose as a follower of Christ.  

This book is an answer to prayer I didn't {and still don't want to} pray: LORD, help me silence the lie of the American dream. 

How do I know it's a lie? Well, if I believe that I deserve anything that God's provision has allowed me to have, what does another mother, who doesn't have access to the same resources, deserve?  Does she deserve struggle and suffering and the gut-eroding fear that she cannot give her children the fulfillment of basic needs?

Why do I have clean water from 3 sources within 10 feet and others have to walk miles to carry filthy water back to their families? {One of my favorite Christian communities, Mars Hill in Grand Rapids, Michigan, has partnered with this clean water program.}

I'm not talking about the consequences of personal choices...I know that enters into the mix. I'm talking about cultural, socio-economic obstacles that are part of this world...as basic as where one is born to the more complex issues of outright injustice.

Our world does not operate on the you get what you deserve principle. The universal question why do bad things happen to good people? continues through the ages. And people who have done unspeakable things have never come to earthly justice. I include myself in the latter.

So, just what am I supposed to do with all this? What do I now?

I don't know...I need to simmer a bit more...and ask some more hard questions of Him and myself.

How much of this do I believe?

How far am I willing to go?

How do I function as a contributing citizen in a system that contradicts my God? The emperor has no clothes.

Not to mention, I know I'm opening myself up to some scrutiny. I am very aware that you may chalk this up to me having an emotional response to tragic stories.  I sound  flaky or condemning. You will be watching me...how am I living? Has my paradigm shifted? How will my fickle flesh feel in a month? Prone to Wander isn't just the blog title...it's my heart status.


Can't I just walk away unaffected? It'd be so much easier. Just don't bug me about this right now, God....


So, do I really want to be different? I am at least shaken out of my slumber, once again.

I don't have answers. But I'm asking for the answers. And my finite brain can begin to analyze the choices I make in my day as extending grace or withdrawing it. I think?

That's about as far as I've gotten in the practical sense. {Oh, and a new practice with the kids that I'll talk about in my next post.} 

How do I sustain? Only by maintaining an awareness of the healing, understanding, and joy He has given me.  Just a moment of remembering my life 15 years ago...wandering in a fog, trying the world's answers to fulfillment. The gratitude floods back. When I recognize the miracles of timing and purpose...the times I trudge through my life focusing on my feet...He is working with precision with this little old life of mine. If I take a moment to look, His fingerprints are all over my life.

I love the Serenity Prayer...in its entirety, but I especially love the lines that are not so well known.

God grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time; 

Enjoying one moment at a time; 

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; 

Taking, as He did, this sinful world

as it is, not as I would have it; 

Trusting that He will make all things right

if I surrender to His Will;

That I may be reasonably happy in this life 

and supremely happy with Him

Forever in the next.

Amen. 


Reinhold Niebuhr

Yes, that is what I believe. He rescued me from the muck of life...how far He has brought me, knowing all the while I will be far from perfect. But I will have love...and I'll never be alone. He has done it for all of us....and now it's my privilege to tell you and others. That's radical.

And there you go, the culmination of my conviction in a {very convoluted} nutshell.

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Here's the deal. I have an extra copy of Radical {don't worry, this is a good use of our dollars} and I'd like you to have it. So, leave a comment by Friday evening and I'll choose the winner on Saturday. {Terribly exciting, my first giveaway!}

Brag alert

Bug signed up for the summer reading program at our local library last Friday. You know, the kind where he receives a chart and a promise of prizes to motivate reading. They dangle incentives in front of the adults at our branch, too. Not sure what the prizes are along the way, but the grand poobah of it all is a chance at a Coco Key birthday party. Wet and wild.

Bug has read at least 5 hours this week...maybe an hour of that was listening to me read. The rest was him reading...in the car, at the breakfast table, or off on his own. He has devoured our library pile, found some used books at yard sales, and wants to hustle back to the library for more...or maybe he just wants to cash in his chart.

I'm used to seeing the top of his head when he's playing a gameboy or a pick-pocketed phone, Opa,  /: (   . {The amount of screen time our kids are allowed is the most contentious and never-ending discussion Sweet Man and I have.} So, it thrills my soul to see his red locks bent over a book. 

In his stack is our perennial favorite summertime read. I adore the illustrations...we each have our own favorite pages, but it's my blog...I'll show you my favorite.

Other books we are enjoying are the Skippyjon Jones series by Judy Schachner {thanks, Aunt Jenni,} anything by Marla Frazee,  and the Good Knight books by Thomas/Plecas.

Bug's momma, on the other hand, has 3 books running concurrently {including the buzz of the blog world:: Radical by David Platt} and a stack beyond that. When she gets a moment to herself, she turns to a screen. What's happening here? Monkey see...oh, I hope monkey doesn't.

Book review

*Forgive me, friends. I reverted to my college paper-writing days...well, I was more coherent then...achieving this trancelike state (get your own lunch, kiddos!) and just writing. So, read on if you think you might enjoy this book or click onward into the blogosphere if you think otherwise. And to my homies: you may have to wait to find this book at our library...I will return it upon my return   *

P. S. Click on the embedded links to find out more about the author or the books.


p. 23...from my favorite author, Lisa Samson in The Passion of Mary-Margaret

I chose to embrace the spiritual because already, by that age, I knew I needed something more. More than coming home to an empty apartment after school. More than my tired grandmother and my tired aunt who came home after shucking oysters or picking crabs all day at the cannery. More than shoes that pinched my feet. It seemed like less effort for me to bring God into the pitiful circumstances of my life than to demand a fancy, all-encompassing do-over. I thought perhaps that might be too hard for God. I confess, sometimes I still think some things are too hard for God. I mean, deep down I think that. But thankfully there's an even deeper down. Unfortunately, crawling down into that well hurts like the devil because we know God can do something and yet doesn't, and we don't have many choices after that realization, and none of them are one hundred percent easy-breezy.

Loved this book. Love Lisa Samson...she's a Christian author...but not the sticky-sweet, contrived plot, sanctimonious sort. Oh, yeah, I said it...had enough of those books. She's genuine and she deals with ugly issues with frankness and humor...kind of what I want to be when I grow up...not an author, heaven's no...but a woman, dealing face to face with grim doubt and human ugliness with compassion and without judgment. My heart is not there, yet.

Here are snippets...hopefully just tantalizing enough without giving too much away ::

Mary-Margaret is an orphan on an island off the coast of Maryland, brought up by her Catholic grandmother and just-a-bit-touched aunt. She is told she was conceived in rape. The sisters of the island's parish educate and embrace her. Also on the island is a troubled boy, Jude, living in an abusive home. He takes a shine to her, in an obnoxious sort of way, but she is in love with Jesus. She chooses to become a religious sister, serving in many ways, but mostly enjoying teaching art and expressing herself through painting and sculpture. She and Jude follow their separate paths with interesting intersections of lives and time. We follow the threads of her faithful service to Christ, her quest to find out about her mother and father, and Jude's redemption. Mary-Margaret writes the book as a memoir to be read posthumously and describes 4 or 5 different timelines...which I must confess, tripped me up a little. 


The essence of the book emerges as Lisa describes Mary-Margaret's sweet, intimate, warm, deep friendship with Jesus. He visits her and calls her by her real name, which is never spelled out for us readers. She eagerly anticipates His visits, and He shows up unannounced to encourage her, share a cup of tea, or give her a specific task. He evades most of her questions but sometimes reveals funny little bits of a beloved's story, keeping her on a need to know basis. He honors her special requests like her plea to die while she is on her knees in prayer. They know and love each other well.

If you have read The Shack, Passion similarly helped me understand the Trinity more (will I ever get it? not this side of heaven...,) fleshing out how a relationship with Christ looks and how Our Father loves us. I liked this way better than The Shack, btw. Her portrayal of Christ is the way I think He wants to interact with all of us...but we're I'm not paying attention. Questioning her grip on sanity, Mary-Margaret suggests that God may more easily communicate with those the world considers touched as they are not bound by convention and assumption.

Trading soundness of mind for her connection with Christ would be an easy choice for her...but be assured Mary-Margaret is very rational. She's funny, down-to-earth, compassionate, hard-working, joyful and steps out of her cloistered life often to get down and dirty in the muck of this world. She looks for Christ in every situation while acknowledging that we are permitted to really mess things up over and over. She questions the substance of faith out of fear vs. faith out of love vs. lack of faith.

The whole story indicates to me just how much Lisa gets it. She describes what a my relationship with Christ and my active faith can look like...in practical, of-this-world-but-eyes-on-the-things-above terms. I knew that if by p. 23, her words resonated with me, this book is going to be used by God to entertain, encourage, challenge, and change me. Really good book, in my book. God, bless Lisa Samson.

Our day in pictures

Update:: we're stuck inside the hotel on this rainy day...I turned on the TV and happened upon a Little House episode...the kids and I are talking about the characters...who's fictional and who really lived...as I begin to realize that this episode is about Albert detoxing from morphine in glorious technicolor detail. Whaaaaat? I must have missed this one in my tweener years. I'm sorry...tragic, surely...riveting, you bet...I fully support and participate in the recovery process...but safe for a 6 and 4 yo? I get it...that hipster, Michael Landon had his finger on the 1980's pulse and was using the show as a vehicle to address the issues...nice. Where is that rascal Nellie...she's much more my speed. Oy, the questions....

Captain's Log, Thursday, April 29th::
I'm realizing how lame I must sound to some people...but of course, I had to record the events here on my bloggity/virtual scrapbook for myself. By all means, enjoy reading....because I was so excited about what we did today...not because I'm a homeschool mom::I am, but I am many other things, not because I love post Civil War American history::'cuz I don't, but because I loved reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books while I was growing up. Period...unashamedly lame.

I remember watching the TV series, too. Remember the episode of the blind school fire? Riveting suspense. Needless to say, I was disillusioned when today, Tour Guide Steve reminded me that so much of the TV series was really just Michael Landon's fantastic storytelling and embellishment...not biographical.

But the prospect of visiting a former home of Laura Ingalls Wilder...thrilling...even more so, because our family is almost finished reading Little House in the Big Woods. So, this weekend, as I studied the Iowa guidebook, I discovered that we were only 90 minutes away from her home in Burr Oak, where Ma and Pa helped another family run a hotel for a year...couldn't pass it up. We had some other lame fun adventures, too!

Another slideshow by Smilebox

35 to 60 to 0

Days are rolling by at a nice pace, filled with just enough work and just enough play. The rhythm is right:: purposeful, but not exhausting.

And spring is near...right? (do you hear the anxious strain in my voice?)

Friday we did a project instead of normal school. I say, embrace the cabin fever. It was a collaborative effort...really, really fun. 

I must confess I have been taking advantage of my live-in manny sweet man, as I run hither and yon. Time  off from momma-duty has been generously granted...walks, errands, dates with friends.... I like this two-parent gig...it works for us...well, for me anyway.

And then there was Saturday...my stars...a p-zacked schedule. It was fun...and exemplified our parenting partnership since we are a one-vehicle family right now. We synchronized rendevous times and hand-offs of bags packed for different purposes. Really, think Swiss timepiece precision. From 8:30am  'til 9:30 pm...it was pedal to the metal. And we got to see so many of our favorite people.

Zumba for me, dance for Bean, skating lessons for Bug & Bean, lunch with the Stelzers, Shug's birthday dress-up/tea party, dinner on the run, then church. Fun enough for one day.

Today we savor in our Sabbath. The crockpot's perking. It's 9:30 and my nest of creature comforts is growing around me :: laptop, current read, coffee, knitting, Sweet Man, oatmeal-banana pancakes with chocolate chips. That's all I need. Ooo, maybe "The Jerk's" on TBS today. That'd be swell.

Don't you dare try to pry my volumptuous, pajama'd buns off this khaki couch. I intend to rule my kingdom from this very seat all. day. long.

Life's a beach

I can confess to you after the fact that I have been wondering...what are we doing here? Vacationing in a strange, bustling city without a car. Where we can only seem to get sketchy information from our hotel hostess. With a hotel neighbor who continues to remind us that our children are too noisy. In a neighborhood where our slow strolling must be punctuated with strategic redirecting of our young reader's eyes so that he does not have time to decipher the saucy t-shirt slogans.

Yes, and exactly how much is it going to cost us to be here? And just where is our travel agent? That would be me.

Sweet Man, who is ever skillful at redirecting me in my second-guessing moments (they actually drive him quite batty after 10.5 years and he can anticipate them before I speak,) even said something to the effect of: Hmmm, stuck here without a car...snow-bound at home? Which would I prefer?

Oh, yeah, I was taking him down with me on yesterday's overcast afternoon. We didn't move far from our bed. Finally, we mustered the gumption to saunter down the promenade to the CVS to try and find mac & cheese for under $4 a box. Very exciting.

But today...days like today are what compel me seaside. And seaside we were...almost entirely. The water was turquoise and refreshing, but very swimmable. International sun worshippers filled in the beach. We saw manatees making their ways up and down the coast. Bug and Bean dug and built and laughed as the waves licked their creations. I finished my latest Anne Rivers Siddons book...perfect beach read.  We each only have a few small rosy patches of evidence to account for spending 5+ hours in the sun. And no mutiny...ha!

Apres-beach, we enjoyed baths and naps and Go Fish and Sweet Man's grilled chicken....

And I'm learning some valuable lessons about making future vacation plans.

By the by, that lapbook plan...not really happening. Oh yes, we are watching the Olympics, but not much schoolwork is being done. As of Thursday, I declared this week Spring Break.

Spring Break rocks...or as my brother would say...Eat, &$**?, tattoo. He's saucy...and we all know I'm not getting a tattoo...yet. I've thought about getting life's a beach or something else appropriate. Oh, and there have been multiple opportunities here. Nope, I've passed them all up, for now.

As the overwhelming majority of the days in my life can be described: I have everything I need and more. Hmmm, might be a good inscription on my forearm.