Thankful

I am thankful for creative friends who whip up something beautiful for the Thanksgiving luncheon and then share their handiwork with me!

Last week I had the privilege of going to a friend's house to discuss Lysa Terkeurst's book What Happens When Women Say Yes to God? My friend shared the warmth of her home, her hugs, her spiced tea, and love for Jesus. As I sat by her fire, I realized what a gift it is to have an evening with like-minded friends.

Thursday morning we watched the Macy's parade and prepared sweet potatoes for Thanksgiving at my Mom's house. To my mom, "to love you is to feed you" and she always lays out an amazing spread. We are so thankful that she enjoys hosting us every year.

We are thankful for my sister-in-law's skilled surgical hands put to use by carving the infra-red turkey, my father-in-law's willingness to always say grace, and for the grace that covers all our sin (even when one of our kids breaks a glass before leaving the table).

I am thankful that my daughters enjoy baking so that they can help out in the holiday festivities.

I am thankful for a member of my Pilates class who surprised me with gifts of pumpkin breads and an even kinder gift of kind words. I am thankful for the Turkey Burn "taster" of classes at the gym tomorrow, so that I can get back on track of becoming svelte again. I keep forgetting my original intention which each holiday flavor that crosses my path.

I am thankful that my kids like to sit on the couch and halfway watch Charlie Brown specials on tv and It's A Wonderful Life so that I can enjoy moments of nostalgia. We very rarely watch tv together, so I am completely drawn into sappy holiday commercials like the ones from Publix and Johnson and Johnson. Messages like, "Mom, you are doing okay" and "Even if the day was not flawless, it was perfect" warm my heart.

Publix Thanksgiving Commercial 2013

 

http://youtu.be/08rj14I6QPY

 

I mute Black Friday blaring announcements and spend one more day in gratitude for all that we already have.

 

 

 

Christmas Cheer

 

I think I have already had my apex moment of the season, before it has officially begun.

We wanted to start Thanksgiving week with gratitude for what we have been given, and created a family gratitude tree from the branches of a potted tree that died during the first cold snap. We've added paper leaves for the things that we are thankful for, and my children mentioned God, "Jeasus" (that must be the way His name sounds to a child growing up in the South), and family.

We gathered everyone together to discuss how we could give and serve this season before any wish lists for ourselves were drawn up. I wanted to hold off until the turkey had been served before racing down that wrapping paper strewn road. Kids spent the day practicing "Silent Night" in high octaves on the piano. Daughters made minty fudge and cookies for the neighbors and teachers. A son drew me a picture in oil pastel and happily strummed on his guitar. Kids played with neighbors in the yard. Gifts given, shared, not just the ones bought.

After dinner together (!) the kids flipped through catalogues of needs and voted to give gifts of education to orphans, help for those devastated by the typhoon in the Phillipines, and funds toward the rescue of young girls sold as slaves around the world. I was proud of them for caring for others. Deeply satisfied that that were catching, incrementally, what living beyond yourself (and not just living beyond your means) looks like.

We made plans to ring the bell for the Salvation Army, gather and sort can goods for Harvest Hope, perform in our church's Singing Christmas Tree, take care of kids in the nursery, mail shoeboxes, search for a mission trip we could go on as a family this year, and send the youth to build a house with World Changers.

All of this was fine and well when there seemed to be little personal sacrifice involved. Then my husband decided to ask what they thought about spending the money we would have spent on ourselves on those in genuine need. One boy melted my heart with a quick, yes. "I don't really need anything this year." The other four, to their credit, were honest. "Can I have some time to think about this?" "I don't really know." "Do you want an honest answer, or to hear what I am supposed to say?"

We prayed that God would teach us how to give of ourselves and to others. To grow us from where we are.

Then, with my heart bursting in maternal affection, I allowed each child to draw the name of another sibling out of a silky red hat to be their secret Santa for December. The idea was to buy a gift for one brother or sister (instead of four), but also to pray for them and find secret ways to serve them. They did great until the secret part. That was just too much for them to handle. One kid kept letting things slip until names were drawn and redrawn and I relinquished the name drawing to one of the older kids. Perhaps one day we will get to the point of loving and serving in secrecy, but today we are still elves in training.

Latvian wool socks from our adoption journey last year

 

"To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant.

To enact gratitude is generous and noble, but

To live gratitude is to touch Heaven."

- Johannes A. Gaertner

 

Renewed Perspective, through the looking glass

It is hard, when it comes down to it, to realize that the 40 hours of rehearsal time spent carting your child back and forth to play practice resulted in 27 seconds of stage time (Yes, we clocked it.) Three words chanted in a group of five girls. Makes a tired Mom grumble to herself, "Not worth it." Makes the same mom lash out at, not one, but TWO, unthinking brothers who make comments like, "That was a total waste of your time and money!", or kind, considerate words like "you didn't really do anything" to the performing sister. Maddening.

So, I take my frustration and disappointment to Jesus, who cares even about the smallest of things like "my kid didn't get a big part in the children's play". I begin the process of thanking Him, that although she wishes that she could have had a bigger role, she is largely unaffected by disappointment. She notices things like "If the main character comes out last during curtain call, and we come out first, then we must be the least important in the whole play!" She observes, but is no more bitter for it. She comes home each day with new theatrical information such as "the green room is not actually green." She has enjoyed hanging out with friends backstage and making myriads of rainbow loom bracelets. She spouts off everybody else's lines with ease from hearing them so many times, and mimics various accents. She compliments others older than herself who have done well and gets their autographs. She is fine. So, what's wrong with me?

A meekness problem. Knowing how great she is at memorizing lines, and how much she is capable of, and being bummed out that she wasn't able to showcase those gifts. A grown-up sense that everything has to be "worth it" and recognized: the price of tickets, participation fees, gas, and time spent going back and forth. If I step away from my grown-up bottom-line sensibilities, and peer through the looking glass, I can see:

We have made good memories, and shared something together. Her grandmother gave her a copy of Alice in Wonderland. She has been reading it during wait times, and we have been following along with the audio version in the car trips. We had a family movie night enjoying the Johnny Depp version of the Mad Hatter. We have had tea parties and an "unbirthday" party, and would have even tried croquet if my man hadn't purged the set during his last garage cleaning raid. She has been happy, and has learned to play a small role with contentment. Perhaps her mama should learn to do the same.

 

Crazy-Happy

So many things in life are just little. Little annoyances. Little joys.

Here are a few of the things that have made me crazy over the past week.

Five jars of jelly, seven jars of peanut butter, and four jars of salsa...all opened at the same time. Don't get me started on the empty boxes of waffles in the freezer or cereal in the pantry!

Boys' closets

Is that a pool towel from the summer that I just dislodged from the hanging clothes? Why, yes, it is!

Traffic jams making the seemingly endless treks for "bread and butter" to say her one group line stressful. Wondering if we will make it in time. Wondering if we should just turn around and forget the whole thing, yelling "Off with their heads!"

But, on the other side of the traffic jam, finding this Alice in Wonderland teapot on clearance at Tuesday Morning. My mom used to find a gift for each dance performance that I was in, to celebrate the work done, and to remember the experience by. I was happy to find something I like that fit the theme (and was on sale)!

Finding a few items to put away for the many birthdays and Christmas celebrations around the corner. Smiling as one child keeps hinting for an item that is already purchased and wrapped for her, waiting for just the right time. Being thankful that when I ask God for things (as a good friend noted), He often has good things planned and waiting for me too.

Sometimes, the smallest of things can make me insanely happy.

 

Buds.

When some flowers hang on much longer than expected, and other clearance finds bring forth new blossoms.

Anticipating good things to come (with very little care given by me).

Tiny Christmas cacti awaiting teachers ($2.50 at Fresh Market). A student gave me one 15 years ago that has somehow managed to live and even thrive all on it's own.

Opening the shutters in the morning to let the light into the house, signifying the start of a new day. It's like that moment in the opening scenes of Downtown Abbey when they open the house for the season (except I am both housemaid and lady of the house)

Feeling cultured and European carrying crusty baguettes under my arm; eating a wedge of cheese and a hunk of bread for lunch and being completely satisfied.

"Gratitude takes nothing for granted, is never unresponsive, is constantly awakening to new wonder, and to the praise of the goodness of God."

- Thomas Merton

 

 

Zip A Dee Doo Dah Day

Today I did not respond to a call for help subbing. Instead, I met my girlfriends as planned. Two months after a friend's birthday, we got together to conquer her fear of heights and zipped the river at the zoo. One member of our group had to be lowered down quickly to make it to preschool pickup in time, but the rest of us were able to be ladies who lunch. I remember eyeing ladies who lunch jealously when I had an infant car seat carrier and diaper bags draped over my arms. Those days didn't last forever as I felt they would. Now, every two months or so, an adventure awaits in the stream of play practices, dance rehearsals, carpools, and weather projects.

A little girlfriend time puts a song in my heart and makes my day soar.

http://youtu.be/UFbJxg_RDcc

 

Debris

 

 

In every life

There is a pause that is better than an onward rush,

Better than hewing or mightiest doing;

'Tis the standing still at sovereign will.

 

There's a hush that is better

Than ardent speech,

Better than sighing or wilderness crying,

'Tis the being still at Sovereign will.

 

The pause and the hush sing

A double song

In unison low and for all time long.

O human soul, God's working plan

Goes on, nor needs the aid of man!

 

Stand still and see!

Be still, and know!

V. Raymond Edman

The Disciplines of Life

"An inner restlessness grows within us when we refuse to get alone and examine our own hearts, including our motives. As our lives begin to pick up the debris that accompanies a lot of activities and involvements, we can train ourselves to go right on, to stay active, to be busy in the Lord's work. Unless we discipline ourselves to pull back, to get alone with the hard work of self-examination in times of solitude, serenity will remain only a distant dream. How busy we can become...and as a result, how empty.

Charles Swindoll

Intimacy with the Almighty

 

Gratitude Reboot

There are always a few days in November where I feel Grinchy, like my velvety sweaty band or perhaps sports bra is just a little too tight and my soul feels pinchy with anxiety. These days coincide with the change in daylight hours and the ever earlier putting up of wreathes in town squares. I haven't yet gotten to dwell in the season of gratitude before we're off to the races with stacks of gift catalogues pouring in through the mail and kids wondering if it's time for them to make lists of what they want for Christmas. (Heavens, no!)

Helpful websites send out organizational tips and planners, Groupons offer deals daily, only further adding to my anxiety. I feel as every shopping trip should include scouting for a stocking stuffer or ingredients for a holiday meal. I gather and stash without a clear picture of how it's all going to fit together. The calendar for December fills up in October and makes me want to be a recluse instead of finding a party dress for a family photo. I don't even want to send a family photo (although I took a pass last year and the 2011 one is outdated). I am on the way to losing my mojo before the season has truly begun. I have peaked in enthusiasm before the firing of the starting gun.

I wake up at 3 am sorting through Christmas choreography dilemmas. Am I too warm? Do I need a glass of water? I begin to write, and my soul is redirected to the practice of gratitude. I need a re-boot. A re-set. A return to what is actually important. A washing of my mind and soul (and no caffeinated tea before bedtime).

I am thankful, Lord.

I am thankful for YOU, and your attentive calming presence in my life. You care about my weakness, anxiety, and smallness, and my desire to make things wonderful, even my desire to honor You.

I am thankful that honoring YOU is the core, the crux of all the activity to come, and that it is okay that I can't even properly worship You through celebration without Your help. I acknowledge my dependence on You.

I ask that You guide me into gift-searching, and bell-ringing, and baking, and generosity from a willing spirit. I pray that I would walk with You each day through celebrations and not try and shoulder the responsibility of holiday magic for my family on my own. Only You can instill the reverence and awe and joy that this season is really about.

As long as I'm up at 3 am, I turn my attention to the blessings You've surrounded me with, and receive them as daily graces, daily signs of Your blessing and favor and ever-present help in time of need.

I thank You for the soft breathing of my husband beside me who is able to rest tonight, unaffected. Seriously, I am not bitter. So many other things fill his hours and mind, I am glad this is not something that keeps him up at night.

I thank You for the sound of gravel crunching under my feet as I walk briskly in tandem with a friend and speak of you.

I thank you for a wonderful person who has taken leadership in coordinating the holiday party, and another who is spear-heading the sewing of flags, and another who has agreed to host the Sunday School coffees. I am not alone. It is not all up to me. I am part of a team of people who love You.

I thank You for the smiles I see on my neighbors' faces after their honeymoon. I pray that we can build relationships with them in time, and that they would see You.

I thank You for the way that I feel better after exercising. I thank You for the little caring community of seniors that linger after class and chats. I thank You that You have created a safe place for these great folks to connect at the gym.

I thank You for sunlit hours and afternoon temperatures when it is not sweltering and I can drive around town with the windows down, letting the roar of the air whooshing by the cracked windows drown out the pinchy-Grinchy chatter in my brain.

I thank You for warmth when the air turns cold outside and pray for the woman I see bundled up walking down the sidewalk with all her belongings. I am thankful for the home I sleep in, and my people resting upstairs.

I am thankful for spectacularly beautiful fall color even as the leaves fall down around me burying our yard in another day's worth of yardwork.

I am thankful that I will be dressed in His righteousness alone even if I am twenty years and ten pounds heavier than I used to be.

I am thankful that I am starting to feel sleepy again, calmed, and centered after having this talk with You. Goodnight, Jesus. Thanks for loving me even when I'm crabby.

 

Inhale Grace. Exhale Gratitude.

"Inhale grace. Exhale gratitude." Dr. Scott Johnson

 

Wonky

Today I feel wonky. I wonder if it is some sort of seasonal time change thing. While I rejoiced at my productivity in finally getting the Operation Christmas child boxes together during the extra hour given last Sunday morning, this week I have felt tired and a little low. There isn't anything especially wrong, just blah and weariness. How much difference can one hour make?

The grey half-light around 5pm that signals the end of the day depresses me. Soon it will feel normal, but today it feels wonky. Not right.

I try some of my favorite remedies: routine, prayer, exercise, coffee with cream, hot tea, reading in a spare moment, writing....still wonky. I crunch almonds between my teeth and lick the smokey saltiness from underneath my nails....still grey. I am angry at technology and mean people who hack email and send ridiculous things from my account. I spend my only free time unsubscribing to thing after thing I do not want. Weary.

On such a day, I love a post such as Emily Freeman sent out a few days ago. A post that reminds us to take everything to Jesus: the celebration, the joy, the exhaustion, the frustration, the ordinary, the grey. Thanks God, for loving me and holding me even when I can't sing or smile much. You are my constant one, and the one who will smile at me tomorrow.

 

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/10597130885_f651b8ee7b_o.jpg

"May your prayer and your living be so closely connected that you cannot separate your day plan from your Amen. May you not despise your weakness, your anxiety, or your exhaustion, rather may you bring these into the presence of Jesus. Your smallness is a gift and an offering. May He be your kind companion today."

Emily Freeman

 

Experiencing Autumn

I love fall.

I love the mountains.

My man is not as keen on fall as I am. He's more of a fun-in-the-sun water guy. But once a year, we pile the family up in the family car and head for the hills so that I can get my mountain air fix.

After a day of roving, he checks his watch and we pile back in to make it back to civilization in time for kickoff.

Here are a few shots from the day we almost had two of our five children eaten by bears when lost in the woods.

When you see a cub, the question is....where is the mama?

Where are the boys? Nobody knows. They raced ahead and were waiting back at the ranger station. We prayed they didn't encounter mama bear since we saw bear cub on our hike not far from the trail. (They didn't.)

Our Sunday School families traveling en masse and lending a helping hand as everyone looked out for everyone else's children. A marathon-running friend took off and sprinted three miles up the trail looking for our kids (and retrieved a few other stragglers.)

Safe and sound.

This sign as a note-to-self warmed my mama heart. They are listening...sometimes.