It’s the weekend! Here’s to kicking around in your favorite shoes, enjoying the cooler temps, and lingering a little longer over your morning tea.
Weekend!
June 2, 2012 by Leave a Comment
June Means Summer
June 1, 2012 by 2 Comments
For us, summer is right around the corner. My kids started counting down the days a week or so ago. Well, truth be told, my son probably started counting down the days a few months ago. {wink} We’re in the home stretch now with only three days left!
I am excited about summer. Yes, in part, because of the great weather and the extra time outside. And there’s the locally grown produce available at our Farmer’s Market. Oh, and, the ice cream frozen yogurt we’ll be inhaling at our friends’ new shop nearby. And summer reading programs at our favorite library. And bonfires in the backyard. And sitting with Rick on the patio after the kids have gone to bed. And the Stow parade with our church family on the Fourth of July. And days at the lake with my sister’s family. And letterboxing treasure hunts. And fresh cherries nature’s candy. And painted toenails. Oh summer!
But the best thing about summer is just being with my kids more of the day. That, and capturing back all of the time that gets lost in the shuffle of packing lunches and running kids to the school and checking folders, etc.
Sure, we’ll still have stuff to do. I want to be purposeful with our time. But, I want to say “yes” a little bit more this summer. And, worry a little bit less about things that will pass. To really look at my kiddos and savor the moments as I’m in them.
I am more mindful than ever before of how quickly these years are slipping by.
When they were preschoolers you never could have convinced me that one day it would move so fast. Back when I could barely slip away to go to the bathroom without them needing something from me. Those days felt long. (Not that I didn’t love them. I did. But, I’ll be honest, they just felt long at times.)
This summer they’ll be 13 and 10. These years are flying by. So bring on summer. Let’s hold our iced coffees high and toast to more time with people that we love.
Ultra-Marathons and An Unusual Beauty
November 2, 2011 by 8 Comments
On Sunday I participated in something beautiful. So many moving things happen on Sundays, don’t they? So many touching moments fill my Sunday memories. But this one was a little different.
This one wasn’t at The Block where we gather to worship our faithful God. This one took place on a trail in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Peninsula, Ohio. I was there at 4:30 a.m., peering through the dense fog and blackest night. Not even the moon was shining. It was cold and I was still bleary-eyed. And, I wasn’t standing next to my preacher-man (where you’ll usually find me on Sunday mornings). I was with my dear friend, Shannon.
We were there to send-off my sister, her husband and his brother. I’m not sure what ever made them think that running for 52 miles would be a grand adventure, but that’s what they were attempting on this cold October Sunday. We had to be there this early because it would likely take them more than 12 hours to complete their task. Yes, 12.
Can you even imagine? Maybe you’re an avid runner but I am NOT. Running for an entire day is not even on my radar of possibilities. But, Crystal is a competitor and she loves to push herself so… here we were. Waiting to begin the run of a lifetime.
But, this post isn’t really about the run itself. (Though, that is surely worth a post!)
This post is about the power of being there. Just showing up. For the people you love.
I did nothing for this race. I didn’t pay her fee. I didn’t train with her. I didn’t fill out her registration or prepare her drop bags or pick-up her race packet. Nothing.
And, yet, when it was finished and we were all done crying, she thanked me. SHE thanked ME. Why? Because I showed up. That’s it. I just showed up. I didn’t even say anything amazing to encourage her. I mean, how lame is “good luck” when a person has trained for months? Really, there was nothing powerful about my words. The thing that had traction was my presence. That I would drag my sorry butt out of bed at three-o-clock in the morning and be there. When she needed a familiar face.
Our eyes locked in knowing before she left for the starting line, little tears spilling into the corners. And, that was it. She was off. To run 52 miles. But, in that moment, I could tell that it mattered. The showing up had mattered.
The crazy thing is that Shannon and I weren’t the only one who showed up. Three other friends came to the start. And, even more people were there coming and going all day. One friend Jillian even bundled up her infant son and came to most of the check points. Friends, family, friends-of-friends. People just showing up to see them for a few minutes as they passed. We’d shout encouraging things or let them know we were praying for them or walk with them for a minute as they got water but they didn’t really NEED anything from us. It was just that we were there… as they finished a grueling loop or topped a killer hill.
It was a beautiful thing to witness. It really was.
And, isn’t that same thing true in life? Sometimes the power of just being there is the critical thing. The fact that you didn’t leave when the going got tough in your marriage. Or that you came home for dinner when you could have worked another hour. Or that you sat down to listen to your daughter’s favorite song even though you really don’t like hip-hop music. Or that you sat there in the rain while he played his football game.
We think we need to buy something or say something profound. But, usually we just need to show up.
There’s something powerful about that. We Americans are pretty independent folks. But don’t be fooled. We still need each other. More than we often know.
And when we show up, we discover an unusual beauty.
In Honor of Fondue
April 13, 2011 by Leave a Comment
Did you know that Monday was National Cheese Fondue Day? Yes, it’s true. National Cheese Fondue Day. (Sidenote: who decides these “national days”? Seriously people. Who?)
And did you know that, in honor of this profound and momentous occasion, Melting Pot is giving away cheese fondue? As in, for free? Until the 14th?
Well, you might want to drop everything and check into it. Because it’s pretty delish…
And, that’s not even the best part.
The best part is sharing it with friends. And talking about life. And laughing… about brown loafers, and afros, and other such nonsense.
THAT… and ordering dark chocolate fondue for dessert. I think they could have brought us cardboard and we would have happily dipped it into that yumminess.
What about you? Any fun outings with friends lately?
Grace for our Parenting Passions
April 5, 2011 by Leave a Comment
Parenting is a funny thing.
Maybe it’s because our children are so dear to our hearts. Or because we know that their place in this world says something about us. Or because we intuitively sense the hugeness of shaping another life. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things.
But, something about parenting has the power to simultaneously bring out the best in us and the worst in us. Our most insightful, gracious, tenderhearted moments in one turn. And in another, our ugliest, most prideful judgements.
And I’m not even referring to how we treat our kids.
No, I’m talking about our interactions with other parents.
You know what I’m talking about. Don’t you? Come on now. You’ve been there – probably on both ends of the judging. Depending on the day.
Perhaps you’ve seen the new mom. She’s tired. Her hormones are all whacked out. The book says little Joey should be on a schedule by now. But, despite her best efforts, he’s not. She condemns herself daily. She’s sure that she’s ruined everything. He’ll be a tyrant now. Because he doesn’t eat and sleep when he’s supposed to. She’s so worried about following the book that she forgets to just gaze into his sweet face while he’s nursing. And somewhere, some other mom is “tsk, tsking” her. Because her little Johnny was sleeping through the night at 6-weeks-old.
Or you’ve been in a store with preschool mom. Her little guy is getting antsy. She thought it would be a quick stop so she doesn’t have the stroller. He wants to touch that one thing. You know, that one thing that he’s not allowed to touch. Momma has corrected him and steered him to another thing several times now. But, he’s not into that plan. Finally he reaches up, slaps mom in the face and runs out the front of the store before she can grab him. Mortified and defeated, she leaves her errand unfinished and just takes him home. As she straps him into his carseat, her vision is clouded by hot tears. She fails to see him as a boy who needs shaped. In that moment, she only sees her own embarrassment. Meanwhile the other moms and the sales clerk talk about what a horribly permissive mother she must be.
And, really, this is just the beginning. The issues just seem to get bigger and the judging more heated as the kids get older. Schooling. Clothes. Boy-girl stuff. Media boundaries. Books. Food choices. Extra-curricular activities. Cell phones. On and on it goes.
Of course we feel passionately about our parenting. Of course we think we’re doing the right things when we make our decisions. That’s why we do what we do. Because we think it’s the best thing. We wouldn’t do it otherwise. Usually, our parenting choices come from our core beliefs about life and a heart of love and vision for our kids. Those are things we’re pretty passionate about!!
Unfortunately, often times, that heart gets buried by layers of defensiveness and judgement and pride and insecurity. Because even as we’re judging another’s parenting, we’re wondering and hoping that we’re making the right calls and that our own kids are turning out OK. We’re never totally sure.
It would almost be silly if it weren’t so damaging to true community.
What if there were a better way?
What if we really believed in grace? Like, really believed it. And that trumped all the rest of it.
What if a homeschooling mom, a public school mom and a private school mom could all sit in a room together while they discussed their schooling choices and NO ONE felt threatened or insecure or judged? Not because we didn’t feel passionately about the choice we made for our family. But, because we could approach the whole thing with grace and humility.
I’d like to get a glimpse at people like that. I mean, who wouldn’t?
Oh wait. I already have one. Glimpses of grace in action. Sometimes you’ll find them in an old carpet warehouse on route 91. Or laughing in each other’s living rooms. Or crying over a cup of coffee together in Panera. Or serving in a homeless shelter together.
I can see them. Oh, I know they’re not finished yet. There’s more to them than this life. It’s not like they’re perfect. Sometimes they forget who they really are. But, I think grace is beginning to sink deep. Freedom is becoming a reality and they’re learning to love like Jesus. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything quite like it before.
It’s a beautiful thing to witness. An even more beautiful thing to be a part of.
Brownies: A Cure for the Wintertime Yuck
February 13, 2011 by Leave a Comment
Sometimes it’s just good to break up the winter monotony with a Saturday afternoon of baking something yummy. Something yummy enough to stir the senses – long since dulled by the seemingly endless string of bleak winter days. Something so yummy that the aroma will bring the kids into the kitchen sniffing the air…
Today was just such a day. I had been trying to decide what dessert to bake for dinner with friends. And, I sort of wanted to try something new. So, I turned to my trusty standby, food.com (formerly known as receipzaar.com) and found this delightful recipe for Whatever Floats Your Boat Brownies. It had more than 1,000 rave reviews. I mean, who am I to argue with the masses?
Whatever Floats Your Boat Brownies
Ingredients:
- 1/2 cup butter, melted
- 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa
- 1 cup sugar
- 2 eggs
- 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup flour
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
Directions:
- Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease an 8-inch square pan.
- In a medium bowl, combine melted butter and cocoa. Stir until the cocoa is dissolved. Add sugar and mix well. Add eggs, one at a time, and stir until well combined.
- Stir in vanilla, flour and salt until you no longer see any flour (do not overmix). Next, fold in 1 to 2 cups of whatever floats your boat! Reviewers suggested everything from chopped nuts to Heath bar bits to marshmallows to various kinds of baking chips. This is the part where you can go a little crazy. *smile* I added one teaspoon of Kahlua and a cup of dark chocolate chips.
- Spread the batter into your greased 8×8 pan and bake for approximately 25 minutes. By the end of the time, your whole house will smell like a chocolatey chunk of heaven! Cool completely before cutting into squares. Then, share them with friends over a glass of milk or a warm cup of tea.
Here are some bonus tips that I picked up from other reviewers on the food.com website: DO NOT OVER-BAKE! If you bake them too long, they will come out more cake-like and dry instead of chewy. I made mine in a glass pan and watched them closely during the last five minutes. (I am not a fan of cake-like brownies.) The directions were right on the money. If you do the toothpick test, it should come out with moist crumbs as opposed to clean. (Oh, and, I was making mine for a dinner date with another family so I doubled the recipe. Instead of an 8×8 pan, I used a 9×13 pan and added 5 minutes to the baking time. Perfect.)
Can I just tell you that it gave me great pleasure to make these from scratch instead of dumping them out of a box and adding some water? It was just more fun. Like a little bit of me was going into dessert. And, it really didn’t take that much longer. Maybe five minutes to gather up the ingredients? It’s not like they were gourmet items that I had to run out to get.
The other thing I loved about these brownies was sharing them with friends. Over the dinner table. In their home. While our kids all played together. And Nerf darts flew by once in awhile. And their sweet baby girl cried to be held. And we squeezed in good conversation during the gaps.
I’m pretty sure that’s the way dessert was meant to be enjoyed. But, hey, whatever floats your boat!
Sanctuaries
January 23, 2011 by Leave a Comment
Rick and the kids have gone ahead. The house is still and I breath deep. Taking it in. The quiet. A dusting of snow falls peaceful outside. The only sounds are the hum of the furnace and the piano music I love so much.
Even I am still and quiet. Candles flicker soft light and I have the life-giving words of my Lord. It’s rare that I have such time alone on a Sunday morning. My Bible is open to the passage I know Pastor Joe will be in this morning… and I have a moment to prepare my own heart before I go join it with two hundred others.
The snow falls heavier now. Big fluffy flakes swirling out my window.
I love the safety and calm that is here. In this moment.
And yet, I discover within a growing longing. To leave this sanctuary for another. To go be with my fellow grace-dwellers. Brothers and sisters who join me in the joy of surrender to the One who loves with an everlasting love. To break free, for just a little while, from all the rest of it. From the messages that pound away daily at my heart. From the people who mock my faith. From the busyness of the weekly tasks and appointments.
And to rest safe with my church family. Learning together to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with the only Voice who really matters.
How to Make it Home Before the Darkness Falls
September 2, 2010 by 1 Comment
As I crack the door, I hear the sounds of laughter. They’re congregating around Faye’s big wooden kitchen table.
The chatting is easy now and the cares of the day roll away as we settle in. Coffee flows freely and we drink deeply of community.
We reminisce about the amusing moments of the day: the guy with the funny name who called the office earlier that day and her trying not to giggle as she took the message; the silly antics of kiddos who ask crazy things of us mamas; the angry man who cussed at her because she had pulled her foreign car too close to his American one. Recounting the day puts it into perspective and, oh, how we laugh.
Pretty soon one of us glances at the clock and our playful banter turns to the more serious stuff of life. We’ve been reading a portion of Titus 2 together – “encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be dishonored.” We’re asking ourselves what it means to live this out. How do we pursue these seven qualities? And how can we encourage each other in that pursuit? Could we really dishonor the very words of God if we don’t?
This is where you will find us on the first Wednesday night of every month. Around this table. Coffee cups in hand. Journals open and ready. Kids all tucked in at home under Dad’s care. Each month we explore another quality on the Titus list and we ask each other the hard questions. The questions that are all too easily ignored in the fast pace of life. Questions like: How are you doing at loving your husband? What does it mean to be a worker at home? Are you doing what it takes to maintain a pure heart?
We’ve been at it for about eight months now. Call it an accountability group, call it a gathering, call it whatever you want. We just know that we need each other. We know the women that we want to be and we know that gaps that keep us from being those women. We know that we want to make it “home” before dark. Home to Jesus before we’re vulnerable, stumbling around in darkness. And we’re just humble enough to know that the stumbling happens all too easily. We’ve all seen the carnage along the path – women who decided they just couldn’t love their husbands anymore or got distracted from the simple stuff of tending their home or stopped being vigilant over their own hearts. We know what is at stake.
And so we meet together, talking or emailing in-between our monthly gatherings. We celebrate birthdays together, bring cookies or flowers to each other when needed, pray for the hard stuff, rejoice in the good stuff, email encouraging words, and check-up on each other. Each month looks a little different depending on the need. In many ways, we’re still figuring out how to make the most of our time together. I’m not sure there’s a formula. I just know that I’m coming to really love these women and that I am grateful to have them in my life.
We’re five very different women. There is variety in our loves and hobbies. Some of us work outside the home, some of us have part-time jobs we can do from home, one of us is a full-time homemaker. We have kids that span the toddler through teenage years. Three of us have kids in Christian schools, the other two have kids at public schools. We serve in our church and community according to our different giftings.
Our common bond is simply Jesus. We are grace-dwellers, seeking with our whole lives to worship the One who rescued us.
And, we are finding that the seeking is all the richer as we do it together.
The Nations are in My Backyard!
May 7, 2010 by Leave a Comment
Caleb’s best friend from 1st grade was a boy from China. In 2nd grade it was Song Jae from S. Korea. Not to mention other classmates like Shreya from India and Liza from Russia and Benil from Nepal and Ming Cho from China.
Then there’s Madison’s dear friends YuNing from Taiwan and Jun Sa from S. Korea and Alexa and Sergio, who are both from Mexico.
If I thought about it a little bit longer, I know I could think of other kids from other parts of the world. And, those are just the kids from other countries. They both also have friends who are Hispanic-Americans or who are Black or who were adopted from other countries but were raised in American families.
This racially-diverse environment is our public elementary school!!
And we love it. What a wonderful place for my kids to gain an appreciation for God’s creative design of people from every tribe, tongue, and nation in this beautiful world.
Last night we had an event at the school to celebrate that diversity – our international families bring a favorite dish from their country and the rest of us dig out a family tradition or an American favorite and we all come together for a meal.
As I stood in line with a man from Senegal and his Japanese wife and their two beautiful daughters, I was struck once again with what an amazing place this world is. How good of God to make people in such rich diversity – even among people of the same race, there is an incredible range and variety. A farmer has a totally different life experience than a man on Wall Street than an artist in Appalachia. And, yet, when we can appreciate those differences, we are all better-off for the variety.
As much I love the diversity in our school, I’m also mindful that the world can also be a very ugly place. I know that if I were to move to my one friend’s country, my family might be beaten and my husband slaughtered in the night because we have a Bible and believe in Jesus. Our own country’s history with slavery shows the uglier side of failing to give equal worth to all people.
I cling with tenacity to my Lord’s example. His love for all people. His sacrifice so that all might come to Him.
And, I enjoy this tiny glimpse into His amazing world. Right here in my own backyard – at a small school in Midwestern America.
A Different Kind of Bling
April 27, 2010 by 6 Comments
It’s not really what you’d call the glamorous life.
Rick and I used to joke that we’d probably never be featured on the front page of our respective college alum magazines.
I mean, for the first 15 years of our married life we worked for a college ministry. Most people didn’t even understand what that meant. Oftentimes they wondered why we were still taking classes and if we were ever going to graduate.
We used a backpack instead of briefcase. Wore flip flops instead of loafers.
My credentials were my Greek letters, not a license or a degree.
We weren’t in it for the money. In fact, we didn’t make a ton of money. Our favorite vehicle was an old-school SUV that a family gave to us after their daughter was finished with it. At least five or six times a year, we didn’t even receive a full paycheck.
And, to top it all off, it was a Christian ministry. Let’s be honest, in the U.S., Christianity isn’t as vogue as it used to be. Even professed Christians seem to think that we Christians need a “new kind” of something or other.
Like I said, it’s not exactly the kind of stuff that makes the front page of the alum magazine. (Come to think of it, both of our universities probably wish that Christian ministries would leave the college campus all together!)
But, we loved it. It was worth every high and low that we could give it.
It is true that we don’t have tons of material stuff to show for it. I don’t have a big house or fancy clothes or dazzling jewelry or that sort of thing. But, I like to think that I have my own sort of “bling.”
It’s the women. Women around the country who were once college students and are now living out their calling in various vocations and roles. In God’s perfect timing and grace, we found each other during their four years of college and I got to play a part in helping them grow in their faith.
These five women in particular are some of the most precious things in my life. I’m proud of them. Thrilled that God used me to play a mentoring role in their lives. None of them came from Christian homes so I got to be a sort of spiritual mom to them.
Sometimes it was as simple as having them in my home for tea and quiet conversation off-campus. Or taking them to the movies after a heart wrenching day. Or teaching them how to study their Bibles. Or giggling with them about a boy that they liked. Or showing them some of my homemaking tips. Or encouraging them to take a step of faith and risk some discomfort among their peers.
I prayed for them, wept over them, laughed with them, had dinner with them, advised them, and just walked through life with them.
The irony of it all is actually sort of funny. I laugh because they were even sort of sad when Rick and I remodeled our kitchen. Our kitchen was the ugliest place in the house. I’m not kidding. Really ugly and gross. It took us eight years to save the time and money to fix it up. So for eight years, I made it work and learned to be thankful for beat-up kitchens. (Turns out, you can still make good food in an ugly kitchen!)
But, to these women that kitchen was beautiful. They remember standing there at the old butcher block while I sliced banana bread or boiled water for tea. They remember our conversations and our laughter. They insist that they don’t really even remember the peeling paint, the old appliances, the dirty cupboards and the limited space. Their memories are etched with the relationship and the moments, not the stuff that surrounded them.
Well, my role in their lives is different now. They’ve graduated and started lives of their own. Today, I’m more older sister than mom. And, they are my friends.
Four of the five are already married. All four times I cried with joy as those doors at the back of the sanctuary opened and these beautiful brides came down the aisle to become one flesh with their godly husbands. Their weddings each a glimpse of Jesus and His bride, the church.
Now, we’re about to watch sweet Molly do the same. I’ll be the old lady bridesmaid with the Kleenex hidden in her bouquet. I can’t believe that getting to know her and love on her was my job for a time.
I think as far as bling goes, that these gals are more dazzling than any diamond or piece of fine jewelry that I could ever have.
(Now… if only I could figure out how to fit them in my jewelry box…)
