I didn't want to help today

The umpteenth request for a flow sub came yesterday, and I ignored it. I waited to see if anyone else would respond. I had looked forward to this morning that I had saved for myself. A morning where I didn't want to rescue someone else in their need for a teacher. I have subbed these classes for this person before, and she has also generously subbed for me on numerous occasions, but I just didn't want to go this time. I wanted to stay on my porch and soak in the glory of quiet and stillness alone with God.

No one else responded, so I reluctantly replied that I would. I gave from a sense of duty and obligation, not for the sheer joy of giving. I understood that I am part of a team and that we need to support one another. But, I didn't want to.

"God, loves a cheerful giver" whispered through my heart.

"Help me to give as you give, God. Not just because it is the right and honorable thing to do, but because it makes You happy to see us consider others before our own interests. Help me to give of myself without begrudging." I prayed over my attitude, got dressed, and went anyways.

It turns out (as it almost always does) that subbing was perfectly fine. Once I was in motion, I taught automatically and got an hour of exercise myself. It didn't hurt me a bit to give. In fact, I was energized to keep on being productive once the wheels were in motion.

For me, more often than not, if I can get going and have some discipline in one small area (like helping a co-worker out when I'd rather not), there seems to be a ripple effect. I ate rice cakes, green beans, and edamame instead of a pumpkin doughnut. Once I'd exercised, I felt more like eating well. Once my nutrition was on track, I felt more like being patient with and attentive to my children. I could help with reading and vocabulary and register a child for the SAT and write a check for the field trip without a sense of feverish restlessness in all the needed activity. I could go about the tasks of the day more gracefully because I had sat still in my Father's presence and allowed him to direct my day, and not my own wishes and preferences...even my preference to stay still "on the mountaintop" instead of doing the hard work of serving people.

Another nudge came later as I gathered a few can goods from the pantry for local high schoolers to collect on Halloween night for a local food pantry. "You can do more." I heard in my heart. It wasn't the voice of condemnation for being selfish and stingy, but rather, the voice of correction, steering me to reconsider my level of generosity. I went back to the pantry and gathered some more things, again listening, and felt as if this was enough. Listening and obeying right away seems to sharpen my ability to hear the next time.

Father, help me to tune into your nudges and whispers. I don't want You to have to shout. Help me catch what You are saying and respond to your lavish generosity every day.

 

Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.
(2 Corinthians 9:7)

 

I sat on my screen porch today

I don't mind autumn leaves scattered across the lawn. I actually kind of like them. I like the crunchy sound they make as I shuffle my feet through them. I like stopping to watch a garden spider patiently waiting for morning breakfast to come and wonder if I can be more like her (him)? I love watching the fog slowly burn off the water into the morning.

When we first built our house, we had dreams of often sitting outside on our screen porch to be with God and each other. The reality is that we are often coming and going and do not sit nearly as much as we had envisioned at this stage in life. Sometimes the weather is too unbearably hot, when the humidity sticks to you as soon as you step outside. On days when the kids smell like the outdoors just going to the mailbox. Other days the cold is penetrating, even wrapped up in red flannel blankets, and that rules out screen-porch sitting.

But today, in autumn, I overlook the dust I should clean, and the mildew spot I should scrub, the twinkle lights that are no longer twinkling, and the dead (was that a frog?) curled up in the corner under a chair. I overlook the flowers that should be dead-headed and the cactus that should be moved indoors, and I choose to sit. I choose to listen to birds chatter and squirrels scold. I choose to notice and think and breathe. My soul relaxes into God's presence. I have read Scripture early this morning. I have had a devotional with the kids in the early morning carpool. We have prayed for my man's travels and work opportunities and the teachers and the president. But, only now, when I still my body, does my soul breathe.

I see the reflection of the across-the-pond neighbors' houses and I check the reflection of my own heart in stillness. Where have I been jealous, or unkind, or ungiving? What things has Jesus enabled me to do that make his heart sing? I think, I reflect, and I pray to be better today than I was yesterday. I pray to love Him more than I did yesterday and to walk closely by His side.

 

Maybe I'll remember to sit tomorrow too.

What we hope ever to do with ease, we must learn first to do with diligence. -Samuel Johnson, lexicographer (1709-1784)

 

Things I said I would never do (the imperfect parent)

Today we received a fabulous email letting us know that the play practice that was scheduled for Halloween night has been cancelled. This made us breathe a sigh of relief because we were planning to have to be sick that day. Integrity is a huge thing for us, but what kind of children's theater plans a children's production of Alice in Wonderland rehearsal on Halloween night? My little bread and butterfly number ten was already perfecting the art of coughing pitifully just in case.

There are many things I said I would never do before I became a Mama. I would never teach my kids that it is ok to pretend to be sick when you've already practiced ten hours on your one line "bread and butter" and when there are nine other girls doing the same thing anyways. We keep our commitments. But we are also not idiots. The world really would not come to an end if we were to miss one of many rehearsals to come. Thankfully, the rehearsal was called off so we didn't go through with our intended dishonesty.

This same play-by-the-rules gene is deeply ingrained in my former-teacher psyche. I scoffed at parents who would pull their kids out of second grade for the day in order to go to the state fair together. "They should value education!" I thought with disdain. Now the same girl sings a different tune when she priced all the different Disney package options and realized that we were talking thousands of dollars difference between when free dining plans are offered, not to mention the experience of waiting in much shorter lines in much cooler weather. I judged, before I knew any differently.

As a twenty-one year old school teacher without kids, I thought it was a great idea to give weekend homework. Not anything major, and never due on a Monday, but things that I thought would be great fun for families and promote learning at home. In 71/2 years, I only had one mom question me about this. I smiled and told her of my reasoning and she complied. What she should have told me was that I was an idiot and filled me in on the fierce and demanding complexities of life with children. She could have given me an education right then, and I would have had more of a clue. But instead, she gave me grace, and let me discover my folly on my own.

I remember thinking another time, "What kind of mom thinks it's ok to not do math homework when they had a late soccer game Tuesday night?" Now, on the other side of the desk, we would still do everything in our power to get the math homework done in the minivan on the way to the game, or in the morning over breakfast cereal, but if it didn't get completed, we would face the music and not worry about it too much. One addition worksheet will not make or break a kid's academic career. (Remember just a few weeks ago that we were taking turns reading one of our children's biographies out loud at the soccer field so that she had any hope of making the upcoming deadline?) I eat a serving of humble pie every day.

Here is my favorite quote on giving each other grace in parenting, and not taking our opinions as God's word for everyone:

“Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now, I have six children and no theories.”

― John Wilmot

And on days when I cannot remember to give myself that same grace, here is an inspiring perspective on how our kids see us when we only see our short-comings as flawed parents:

 

http://www.faithit.com/moms-kids-video-confession-touching/

 

 

 

Pumpkin Love

I told myself that this was the year that I was going to get svelte and fabulous. But, like every year, I always get waylaid in autumn....pumpkin yum yum!

 

Two different reactions to pumpkin guts: one finds them disgusting and smelly, the others thinks gross and gooey is great!

The boys like the process of scribbling and are done in about five minutes. This jack had a bunch of knives stuck in his head before I declared that disturbing. (Should I be concerned?)

 

Learning what a rubber mallet is in English

No awards here for carving masterpieces, but the warm glow of pumpkin love remains.

 

Christmas in Fall

This is a shot of my dining room table. It is a reflection of the full and busy days of fall leading into Christmas. While it disturbs me to see Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas displays together in stores, it doesn't bother me (much) to have them piled up on my dining room table.

My kitchen table is clean. My island is free of clutter and ready for homework and dinner prep. But, our dining room table is the place where all the works in progress go until they can be attended to. Side-by-side are Operation Christmas Child boxes (that must be collected by Sunday), teacher appreciation gifts that have no handwritten notes of appreciation yet, upcoming family birthday gifts, AWANA handbooks, Halloween costumes, candy, and the fillings of "Boo boxes", not to mention the posters that need updating for the Sunday School walls. (This is probably why we do much eating, but not much dining. That, and the fact that cooking really great dishes takes some forethought.)

One room over, my daughter practices "The Little Drummer Boy" and "Winter Wonderland" in preparation for a winter piano recital. In October, I drive around town listening to the music I am choreographing for the Singing Christmas Tree. Once home again, I review DVDs of past performances for inspiration. Mail-order catalogues come everyday urging me to start some shopping, but I can't think about thoughtful gift-giving that far ahead yet. I have already bought and stashed a few practical gifts throughout the year, but am not in full-speed-ahead mode. I focus on one thing at a time and try to enjoy fall before moving on to Christmas.

Today, I teach my Pilates class and meet my man for lunch. Tonight we carve pumpkins. Tomorrow we hike the mountains.

Somehow all that really needs to be done today gets done, and I sit on my back porch and notice that some sort of blackbirds are flocking in our trees, migrating perhaps to warmer climates. My nose is cold and my old fleece is collecting long red hairs that I am dropping rapidly. In the midst of busy and full, I choose to sit and breathe and notice for a while. The pile on my dining room table can wait.

Luke 10:42

But only one thing is really neccesary. Mary has chosen the better thing, and it will not be taken away from her.

 

I skip ahead to the end of books (and am learning to make art)

I have a habit that confounds my friends. Once I am intrigued by a good book and emotionally involved in the characters, I almost always skip ahead to the end to see if everything turns out okay for them. It doesn't bother me a bit to know the ending. Once reassured, I feel as if I can better weather the peril that always happens in the middle, and take in more of the journey.

A friend recommended My Berlin Kitchen by Luissa Weiss to me this week. I have snuck away from family duties to read snatches of her memoirs, and found myself halfway through, last night, compelled to skip ahead to the end to see if she ever reconnected with Max.

This book combines each memory of her life spent between parents in Europe and America with a certain favorite recipe from that part of her life. I love the calming, beautiful way that she writes (and I have been looking up culinary terms right and left). And even though I will never make duck stuffed with a French farce, I feel more like cooking than I usually do. I even looked at the Wednesday recipes that come in the newspaper insert before recycling them. I considered buying leeks and artichokes before remembering that my family will not eat them at this time.

For her, cooking is a creative, expressive thing, and that somehow consoles me as I chop the necessary vegetables for a dinner salad. As if cooking dinner actually matters, not just because we have to eat, but because it can be something more if I let it and think about it in a different way...maybe with a little soothing Pandora radio playing in the background of my non-gourmet kitchen...a skill to honed...a craft...a creative outlet.

Emily Freeman has a new book out too, on making "art" with your life, whether it is trying a new recipe, sculpting, composing, or painting. Fall brings me the challenge of trying to choreograph this year's angels for our Singing Christmas Tree. Part of me is always concerned that what I think up in my head will be a flop when it comes time for the show. Part of me is worried that I have mixed motives in wanting the dance portions to be amazing and not just okay. God has been encouraging me through Emily's words and the reminders of friends that God has given me a gift to share. Now I'm praying for confidence to make art for Him without worrying and feeling insecure, especially when the ideas that come are new ones.

If you are worried that what you have to offer may not be enough, check out Emily's blog or new book A Million Little Ways. You can find her at chattingatthesky.com

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2013/10/24/desires-vs-motives/

Here's one quote that helps me keep listening to Christmas CD's in the middle of October with fingers crossed that it will all turn out ok... and maybe even glorious:

"Do you believe that you have something to offer?

When you become aware of a scrap of a desire, do you toss it aside and label it selfish instead of considering it sacred?

Emily Freeman"

 

Meanwhile my daughters have been making myriads of rainbow loom art. See my bracelets below. This craze will probably go the way of silly bands and scratch-and-sniff sticker collections, but for now, I am happy to see them busily creating instead of surfing Netflix.

 

 

Pumpkins and Pansies

Now that I have traded in shorts and capris for jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, it feels like fall.

We have pumpkins on our steps, dish towels, and soap dispensers. We add pumpkin spice to our home-brewed coffee and cover bagels with pumpkin cream cheese. We make pumpkin waffles for dinner and treat ourselves to a birthday pumpkin cake doughnut. Delicious fall.

State Fair Needtobreathe concert....even when the rain falls

And Carolina football

We wrapped up fall sports and are continuing with guitar, piano, and violin lessons, as well as play practice and beginning Singing Christmas Tree rehearsals.

My husband and son have decided that they are hunters and are now spending long hours in the swamp and woods in pursuit of the elusive "Ole Henry - the buck that got away". I thought the name of this deer blind was hysterical as my boys are often in the doghouse with me over scheduling conflicts of interest.

Our neighbors got married and shared this beautiful flower arrangement with us. We celebrated our 14th anniversary on the same day as N's 12th birthday.

I loved this looking "UP" themed card...about how being married to A has been the adventure of a lifetime.

Birthday celebrations with friends

A birthday allowance for ridiculous high-heeled tennis shoes

School uniform meets former European fashionista

 

 

 

Friends enjoying fall retreats and sleepovers and gallivanting around the fair

Junior Chefs learning how to clean up the disaster that is our kitchen whenever we bake up some birthday-anniversary love.