getting it out there (some news)

but first, a poem. a carol. 

 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

      Christmas Bells

    I HEARD the bells on Christmas Day 

    Their old, familiar carols play, 

        And wild and sweet 

        The words repeat 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And thought how, as the day had come, 

    The belfries of all Christendom 

        Had rolled along 

        The unbroken song 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Till ringing, singing on its way, 

    The world revolved from night to day, 

        A voice, a chime, 

        A chant sublime 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Then from each black, accursed mouth 

    The cannon thundered in the South, 

        And with the sound 

        The carols drowned 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    It was as if an earthquake rent 

    The hearth-stones of a continent, 

        And made forlorn 

        The households born 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And in despair I bowed my head; 

    "There is no peace on earth," I said; 

        "For hate is strong, 

        And mocks the song 

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

    Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 

    "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; 

        The Wrong shall fail, 

        The Right prevail, 

    With peace on earth, good-will to men."

We found out yesterday that Josh has another small tumor in his spine. The radiologist feels certain after reviewing the scans from last year, that the tumor has been there all along- which provides me with some comfort as it is not something "new".

The good news is that it is very small- so small it could prove difficult for the surgeon to even find it if he were to operate. He DOESN'T want to operate right now- says he wants to monitor it with scans. If he does operate eventually, the location is much safer and the surgery, in his words, "less complicated".

He told Josh to keep perspective, that this wasn't the worst case scenario kind of situation- not nearly as grave as last years situation.

Our order were to get healthier- he's already pretty healthy- but to step up the exercise and core strength- as two back surgeries would be tough on his body down the road.

So that's it. We were pretty down last night, not expecting the news at all. But all in all, we feel ok. 

I, like most of you, have felt heart broken over this past weeks tragedy.A friend posted this poem/song- and I could not find more appropriate words for the way my heart feels on every front.

But "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep, the Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail".

Thanks be to God.

you are four.

* I, like I am certain every breathing person in this country with a soul, has been deeply saddened by the events of this week. That actually doesn't even capture the emotion. Grieved, that deep in the gut sadness, is more like it. I turn on the news, that is all I feel. It's so sad, I have yet to really be able to think about comfort or God in this. I know both are to be found, but watching that sweet Dad on the news yesterday, was almost too much to handle. So, as my 4 year old woke me up at 5:50 this morning, on her birthday, it is with a sweet recognition, that her warm breathe tells me she is awake. awake.

Dear Annie,

You are four today. This day four years ago was filled with drama, and it would actually be late into the night until I would get to see your face. It was the happiest moment of my life.

You were and are tenacious. Happy, energetic. You love people, and are genuinely silly. You walk into any situation with confidence.

You totally wear me out most days. We had a hard week, let's keep this little letter real, but you have no idea the depths I am willing to fight for you.

Fight for you to learn to trust me, to obey. It's hard for a soul like yours, but you are getting it, and you feel sad with things go the wrong way.

That kind of sadness is good. I think.

This week you broke my 2nd ipad. Last year, it tumbled to the stone floor, and I was grieved for days as it was a gift. I replaced it with my own money for 1/2 price (thankyou, apple), bought a nice cover, determined to keep it safe. This week, you ran through the dining room, with my ipad, in the nice cover, took a spill and shattered the screen. I was beyond grieved (again) about this stupid earthly possession, but I didn't yell (this was  a miracle), but quietly told you I needed a "moment". And (and I am embarrassed to admit), went into the kitchen and cried over my shattered ipad. That night, in your prayers, your daddy told me you prayed,

"Dear Jejus, I am so sorry I broke mommy's peter (computer). I've been so sorry all day."

I think we both learned a lesson that day.

Today we will eat pink cake and go see Santa. Family will eat chili tonight and we'll sing you happy birthday.

The day you were born changed me forever. It really did. My heart is different because you are here.

We are all different because of you. You have a gift, Annie, and my prayer is that God will use it for His glory.

All of my love.
Mommy

merry christmas!

the way God made me. The way God is changing me.

*just write*

For as long as I can remember, I have craved the quiet.

My closest friends, in every season of my life have been lively, people loving, cheerful, outgoing types. I am drawn to these kind of people. They somehow hold the magic key to unlocking my frozen and scared places.

My husband is the exception. I met him, and thought it might be kind of quiet in our house, but I knew I had met someone who got me. but that's another blog.

So, except for those sacred few who have the magic key, I have been content to kind of walk many of my paths with a few amazing people by my side. When you take those personality tests- "goes to party and has one or two meaningful conversations" versus, "works the room". I am the former.

But those tests always frustrate me, because I was also what some might call a "ham" in my younger years. I suppose I enjoyed the attention that was showered on me. I danced. I sang. There is video to prove it- but somewhere along the way, something shifted. That space in time hen the self awareness over shadows the real you- or maybe that's the real you? How do you really know?

At any rate, I am sure this is the point where parents start scratching their heads and wondering who it is in front of them. This changing little life. what a mystery?

I have some vague memories of my parents wanting to throw me a birthday party around the adolescent years. I was resistant, I am pretty sure it didn't happen, and I am assuming I frustrated the hell out of them. I think what they didn't know, and I what I couldn't quite articulate at the time, was that the whole idea of a party for me felt uncomfortable. It didn't feel fun anymore.(I have the added pressure of a New Years Eve Birthday). Bottom line, something had shifted. I had become the person who wanted to eat cookie dough with my best friends on my birthday, the person who didn't want a party in my honor, with lots of people looking at me.

I am still like that. Small, low key. keep it simple.

But now, here I am with this little girl who is about to turn 4. My little social Annie who never meets someone she doesn't love. And I am having a small, quaint get together, with family and her closest friend Brydia. And I am filled with anxiety!

Am I giving her MY PARTY? There goes God again stretching me, pushing me beyond my comfort zone, using my child to form my character.

And this is my prayer, that I will listen, that I will try to know her, no matter how frustrating it gets, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.

May I learn these things, knowing I am who I am, the way God made me.

And she is who she is, the way God made her.

It is a gift to love another person.

a hard, exhausting, beautiful gift.

I will  mess this up.

I am already messing this up.

One day, Annie will probably tell me all the ways I got it wrong, but I hope she'll be able to see the things I got right, too.

Just like my parents, and every human being who has ever tried to love another person.

It's hard. Sometimes you knock it out of the park, but sometimes, sometimes, it's just plain hard.

the ledge

you know, the one you have to be talked off of.

When your 4 year old has screamed at you for 20th time in one day, refused to nap, woken up the "baby" from her nap, and then continues her antics all the way up to bedtime.

wasted.

that was me last night.

I know every mom feels this way. That day when all you feel like you have done right is washed away in a seemingly incessant string of bad behavior.

Did I mention is freezing yesterday? Can I blame this on the weather?

On a cute note, Annie was sitting in the dentist office yesterday and said

"Mommy, I LOVE the dentist! This is so fun!"

Who is this child?

We also went shopping yesterday for a little girl's Christmas. We picked her name at church. I was trying to explain to her that sometimes people fall on hard times and don't have enough money to buy gifts, so every Christmas, we were going to help buy someone a gift.

When she saw her daddy yesterday, she exclaimed "We bought a little girl some presents cuz she doesn't have any monies!!!!"

sigh.

and I should probably mention that my almost 2 year old loves being naked, which is comical, and mildly frustrating. but mostly comical.

This morning, thankful for rest, that restores tired bones and achey hearts.

oh, and preschool. which begins promptly at 9:30. We'll be there when the doors open.

tree

advent, on waiting

It wasn't perfect, but it was a step.

Over waffles, a reading from Isaiah.

Annie, coloring the root of Jesse.

Mass. The priest clothed in purple. The Liturgy, shifts to the waiting. The yearning.

We sing parts of the Mass to the melody of O come, O come Emmanuel.

We eat soup for lunch.

I run to pick up a Christmas Tree. We hang the lights.

I feel my heart kind of racing. I feel the next three weeks trying to ambush me.

I breathe deep, or at least try.

slow it down. slow it down, real slow.

I remember a year ago, Josh was recovering from a major surgery, we were in the midst of major Church transition, I was scared and hopeful all at the same time.

This year feels more like home. There is more rest.

which finds me, thankful.

broccoli cheese soup

It's been awhile since I've linked up, but this soup is great, easy to make. I used 2% milk and cheddar/colby jack mix (all I had)- and I left out swiss because I forgot to buy it. It's a good soup- makes about 5 1/2 cups, so you aren't stuck with left overs for days. I did use my immersion blender just to break up the broccoli chucks so my kids would eat it. they ate two bowls each for lunch!!!

find it here.

jesse tree

meet our jesse tree.

We're going to use Ann Voskamp's Jesse tree guide.

I printed off the ornaments here because I liked that they were simple.

I tied them to tiny kraft envelopes (that I am going to sneak treats in) with twine.

and there you have.

some beauty. some meaning. and some magic.

p.s. My kitchen in piled high with caked on food. there is food all over my floors. and my sweet annie is wiping snot on me all day. this tree is real pretty, but my house is a wreck:). this is just my one little shot at making advent something beautiful for my family. Here's to hoping we actually get a Christmas tree decorated!

stop the spinning

Halloween to Thanksgiving has been a blur.

Between ear tubes, and throw-up viruses, and weird colds and pink eye issues, and some strep throat to round it all off- whew.

poor me a glass of something.

Through sheer determination, I pushed through the worst knife blades in my throat sickness experience, and we drove to North Georgia to spend Thanksgiving at the cabin. We showed up 3 days later than anticipated, but the weather was glorious, and the girls were in hog heaven. It took me an entire day to recover once we got there, but I felt like I got two good days in, and then we started the long haul home.

We landed here today, and everyone's a little crazy. Hopefully a good night's rest will cure that.

I feel like this is the deep breath week, before Advent starts next Sunday. I have ideas whirling around in my head and hoping I can make this season meaningful and magical for my kiddos (And for me). We are going to try our hand at a Jesse tree, and see what happens.

It takes a fair amount of courage to block out the noise of life, consumer frenzy, and whatnot, but I think there is something worth fighting for in all of it- and I hope and pray that each year the gifts feel more intentional, given from a place that wants to celebrate another person. And for the record, starbucks cards are definitely a meaningful gift for me. just saying.

Josh and I talked alot today on our drive, how traveling stirs up longings. Like, I would really like to live on that horse farm in Memphis we passed by. Or, if we won the lottery, our decisions would be so different. Or would they?

All we have our the days given, in the ways they have unfolded. For the first time in a long time, the traveling was restful and not did not stir up discontent. I loved being there, but I also knew we had a home to go to. Good jobs. family and friends who love us (near and far). Sure I dream. I wish my sister was down the road. I think, wow, that would make life so different.

and maybe she will be down the road one day.

all that to say. We're home.

and tired.

and full.

survivor

In the past two weeks.

ear tubes surgery for millie

3 stomach bugs (one which was mine)

family visit (very fun)

halloween

2 marathon photo mini session days

with an all night shift (on daylights savings! one more hour of work!)in between...

and another sick millie- eyes and ears infected, for our little cherry on top.

and this is me. TIRED!!!!

"x" by. Wendell Berry

Whatever is foreseen in joy
Must be lived out from day to day.
Vision held open in the dark
By our ten thousand days of work.
Harvest will fill the barn; for that
The hand must ache, the face must sweat.

And yet no leaf or grain is filled
By work of ours; the field is tilled
And left to grace. That we may reap,
Great work is done while we're asleep.

When we work well, a Sabbath mood
Rests on our day, and finds it good.

when yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang...

"That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold"

william shakespeare

We spent the weekend with Josh's family at Indian Point, overlooking Table Rock Lake. We survived Silver Dollar City, and I relished in Annie's laughs and pure delight. Traveling with kids is not easy, and sometimes the pictures and the poetry on this blog can romanticize the very things that we had to fight for. The moments of delight sometimes are fleeting, like the Fall leaves, but they are good and I am thankful for whatever glimpses of glory come my way.

Millie (20 months)

Oh Millie. Sometimes I don't have words.

for your love for being without clothes.

your love for shoes.

your sassy walk.

the way you say, "byeeeee", so, so sweetly.

for your legs, which have been cloned from mine. I apologize in advance, for the way those cute knee high boots may never fit. 

you'll make up for it in other ways.

you are hilarious and witty, I can already tell.

You sleep pretty well. You LOVE your paci. I don't know how we'll ever get rid of that thing. It seems every day you add to your attachments. Paci, lovie, blankie, and cup. All 4 must go all places.

you love your loves, what can I say.

We are blessed to know you. and love you.

and girl, you do have some moves.

making soup. snapshots.

sometimes I don't know how to capture my thoughts, other than snapshots. Those moments in the day, when the clarity comes.

A friend on Facebook recently said something that stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Sometimes you have a night where the Fall seems totally restrained and you remember a fresh the truth you have staked your life on"

Working all night to be home with my girls. Homemade soup. Trying to make my home beautiful. Turning the stones, over and over- hoping the truth is still there, and smiling when God shows up.

Admitting the sadness that comes, when the same people irritate you, when your relationships disappoint, when anger wins, again.

You wonder, will I ever be saved? Will I ever be free?

Sometimes I get lost in the new heavens and the new earth. I think of years unhindered, our beat up souls, free.

I think of the people, I'll enjoy, when it's all made right.

Am I crazy to stake my life on this?

Maybe.

I  do not share many things with the Saints.

But I stand with Peter, To whom shall I go? You have the words of eternal life. (I say in my heart.)

Until then?

I make soup. Share a table. stake my life on Jesus.

poem Friday

wow, isn't this how we all feel, when it comes down to it?

A Watcher

By: Robyn Sarah

The mail doesn't come
and doesn't come.
The mail doesn't come.
It's three o'clock, I've been
downstairs to check, and up again,
and down and up — it
doesn't come.

Incognito in the little shops
is how I want to go.
And in and out
about the neighbourhood,
observing unobserved.

And yet I long, I long.
Long to be known, and know.

growing up. snapshots.

In between the fevers, and the ear aches, the stitches. the whining and the tantrums.

I hear, "I love you, mommy".

a spontaneous, "I love you".

they are screaming, and we've been running around all day. It's time for Mass. I really just want to lay down.

but I'm hungry.

We wrangle, and find shoes. load up. drop off.

My fingers find the water. The cross forming over my head. my heart.

"You belong to God". This motion. This sign. to make me remember.

It's quiet. We kneel before Jesus. the candle is lit. He's there. in the box. so they say.

I can't get my mind around it, but I kneel.

"you belong to God". This motion. Knees on cushion. to make me remember.

The next hour ebbs and flows. I say the words.

"I am not worthy, that you should enter under my roof, but only say the words and my soul shall be healed"

and every week, it feels like it is.

this week made me so crazy....

I went back to blonde.

mid life crisis.

sort of.

the cherry on top of the cherry.

Well, I  might as well keep documenting this week- this is totally for Millie's own amusement when she reads this one day....

So yesterday, after another long night, I just had that feeling that the antibiotics from that urgent care visit were not worth anything. It was a 5-day z-pack which is not really the recommended drug for ear infections, which I even told the doc- but whatever, his pride wouldn't let him prescribe the augmenten which is the only thing that has worked in the past. So irritating!!!! Why did I even bother going?

So, long story short, we ended up back at the dr yesterday. Both ears, STILL infected, and one eardrum ruptured. Seriously, Could this child have a more pitiful week? She was in so much pain yesterday and last night, she just shook. It broke my heart.

Thankfully, the wonderful pediatrician loaded us up with antibiotics and pain killer, and today, she seems really well. She still complains when it gets to be re-dosing time, but anyway.  life is looking up again.

I haven't caught up, but when does a mom ever, really?

Sorry to bore you with the mundane. This is pretty much my baby book, diary, and creative writing outlet all in one, so you know- it is what it is!

cherry on top

Just a few moments after that last entry, Annie wacked Mille with a toy, resulting in 2 stitches, which subsequently took 5 years off my life. 

Annie was super sad. Millie was, well traumatized by the whole experience. And I need an adult beverage.

Poor Millie, things can only look up from here, right???

a good idea?

Well, the weekend started off with some rain. And being the spontaneous mom that I am, I let Annie and Millie get in their rain gear and play in the mud puddles. They loved it. What I failed to consider were Millie's already "allergies", that were in full force. Well, we pressed the repeat button Saturday morning, more playing in the wet grass and dirt.

And, well, Saturday night no sleep was had by one little Millie. Sunday, we ended up at Urgent Care with fever and two ear infections!

Last night was a little better as long as we  stayed on top of the fever. I think the antibiotic kicked in because she's sleeping great right now.

At least she had fun, right?

Sometimes I feel like God made people like me to help encourage others that your kids will survive without the occasional sunscreen, jumping in mud puddles with colds, what have you.

I'm kidding, kind of.

anyway, it's monday, which means back on the wagon. we had our ice cream and fast food fix this weekend. We managed a cooked meal, too. 

happy monday.

rainy days

We're having a rainy day here, well it looks like a rainy week ahead, along with cooler temperatures. It's like you can feel the entire state breathe a long, collective sigh.

we made it.

I even had the heart to order Annie her Fall shoes today. It's actually coming.

I wish you could see my house. Clothes everywhere. Dishes piled. pj's adorned.

It's just that kind of day.

And for you, on this day, a poem, from my beloved Writers Almanac. A reminder of the seasons, the liturgy of life, so to speak, reminding us with its beginnings and endings.

The story keeps marching on. and yet shares itself over and over. Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring.

Thanks be to God.


CLOSING THE CABIN by: Thom Tammaro
I
In the yawn of dusk,
We drift home in Minnesota autumn,
Reciting the litany once more:

Dock in; boathouse latched;
Rugs rolled; plugs pulled;Windows hinged; 
floors swept;
Pilots out; pipes drained;
Faucets opened; doors locked;
Hummingbird feeder taken down;
Key hanging in its secret place.
II
In the flicker of lights near the city's edge
We talk easily, gather within
All that the summer has given:
A great fish, slender and shiny,Diving for bottom;
 loons calling In the still afternoon;
Stars swirling above the rooftops.
Near home, vees of geese circle,
Circle in the shadows above us.
III
Later that night, we pause
On the stairs — winterward —Unlock that other season
Where little puffs of winter dust
Rise when we open the door.

odds and ends

1. Vega-  I took some silly plunge and decided to buy some "Vega" whole food supplement. It just seems no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to get in the nutrition I know that I need. Anyway, It tastes like dirt with steevia in it, but I am dumping it in a strawberry smoothie, and I can get it down:) The nutritional benefits are crazy good, so I'll finish the container if it kills me.

I have to cut the scoop in half. It's just too much for me, so I guess I am getting the nutritional benefits of 1 egg, 1/2 cup a yogurt, 1 salmon, 1.5 slices of bread, 1.5 veggies, and 1 cup of blueberries (antioxidant benefit)

I thought this might be a meal replacement, and I guess it kind of is breakfast for now. Anyway, I'll report back when I finish the  container, which may take all year.

2. It's trying SO hard to be Fall here. 

3. I discovered Nordstrom's online shopping. Free shipping and returns. My life may never be the same.

4. We are back on meal planning. I am planning 3 meals a week, each with a leftover night. Last week worked!

5. gotta go.

princess

It's going to be 100 again today. I have lost the will to deal with this at this point, so we are running around in diapers and princess clothes. Annie is in underwear wrapped in blankets watching Sound of Music, or like she calls it "The music family". She has a fever.

It only took 2 school days, and there you go. I am sure Millie will be next.

As you can tell, Millie has turned into quite the personality.

She is doing great in school, too. Slept on her nap mat like a big girl. So proud.

Annie did great, too. She loves school. Loves her friends. Annie is all about love.

Ok, I might get dressed or something.

It's Friday!

baby shower and God's faithfulness.

Almost 4 years ago, Sweet Annie was born and spent 10 days in the NICU. During my stay, I was opened up (literally, I guess, thank you c-section), to the reality of changing career paths. I had been an O.R. nurse for 10 years, and had worked for some pretty important people. I took pride in that, and wanted to hang my hat on it, but at the end of the day, I was unhappy, burned out, and no passionate at all about my work. Until Annie.

and I thought. I can do this. I should do this.

One night, as I was working in the O.R., we went and to see a baby that was just born. I looked in the nursery, waved, and thought, this is where I want to be.

I applied the next day for a part-time job, and I transferred within a month.

BEST. DECISION.EVER.

Last night I gave a shower for the first person I ever met there. She is a kind and honest person, and I knew I would like her from the start.

I love my job. I love who I work with. These are my best friends in this town. They really are. This job has kept me sane, made my heart full, and reminded me that God is good. He really is.

This job is example of following the "thread" through. If I had not had that OR job that I hated, had Annie not been sick,  who knows where I would have been right now.

But I don't have to wonder. I am here.

beautiful people just don't happen.

well said.

my girls

Even though this is the hardest job I have ever done. (and I have worked hard jobs), I know in the deepest part of me that these two people have made me better. Before they came in to my life, I was a person that had to work really hard to shed tears. Really hard to feel compassion. That all disappeared when they showed up. I cry every time I am in the room when a baby is born. every. time. I also may or may not have cried on the grillmasters finale of "chopped". My husband was laughing. I was, too. 

following the thread

I was going to write a mushy post about how much this book is impacting me, "King's Cross"- by Timothy Keller. BUT, he says it right the first time, so I thought I would share. Such good words. good, good, words.

enjoy.

the yearning

I feel like we ache for Summer to leave as much as we long for its arrival.

In June, we've endured Winter's chill, and Spring's beautiful (but often stormy and sneezy) presence, but Summer, ah Summer, it's long days and lazy ways are a wonderful, anticipated welcome.

Until August.

And you are over 114 degree days. Over sunscreen. Over the water. Over frozen yogurt trips. Just over it.

And then this week happens, as the first day of school pics come in. All the crisp new clothes. smiling faces. You can almost taste the warm soups and pumpkin patches in your near future.

and every year, every season, comes and goes the same way. I suppose Winter and Summer,  being the extremes, we tend to see them go with more emotion, more thankfulness- for the next thing.

I am no different.

My kids don't start their preschool program until after labor day.

It's just two days. Just 10 hours a week, but man, it's so good for all of us.

And because it's monday, and because the sun woke up and made me face the day, we piled in the car, and headed to the zoo on a beautiful morning that reminded all of us that the warm days are less warm, the breeze has shifted to the north again. We rode trains and watched sea lions. Millie snuggled up to be on our rides. Annie watched with wonder at the birds and chimps.

I know it's good. life. these little people.

I also know that it's hard, and I fight (and I do mean fight) to find the joy. seek it out.

believe it's there.

I chose to believe it today.  I drove to the zoo, and placed my body in the outdoors, and said to Joy- prove it.

And joy did make itself known.

and we're back. The dirty dishes. the laundry. the crumbs.

They feel less daunting, though.

and less daunting is good.

on joy.

wherein I begin to open my heart to learning what this might mean....


The following is from G.K. Chesterton, on joy.

Josh and I have been saying that this is "the year of the yard". Because ours  has beautiful things, but its all wrangled and overgrown, and the weeds are choking the life out of it!

I am also adding that this is "the year of joy"

Chesterton writes a lot on joy, and I think, well I KNOW, that this is something that I have a difficult time tapping into. In the quote below, he says something that has thoroughly flattened me.

"melancholy should be an innocent interlude, a tender and fugitive frame of mind"...

Anyway, I am listening.

Man is more himself, man is more manlike, when joy is the fundamental thing in him, and grief the superficial. Melancholy should be an innocent interlude, a tender and fugitive frame of mind; praise should be the permanent pulsation of the soul.

Pessimism is at best an emotional half-holiday; joy is the uproarious labour by which all things live.

thoughts?

oh, july. nice to see you go. August, you can head on out, too.

Summer has been a rough patch for me. Maybe because life slows down, the routines are off, and I get to see up close the things I still really miss. Like my dear friends. Familiar landscapes. The ocean. My family.

Likewise, on our 4th Summer here, and my first without being pregnant or having a baby, has felt more like home than not, as life here makes  itself known to us.

Millie's baptism was a reminder of God's faithfulness to us, indeed, as we were surrounded by people who have chosen to love us, walk with us, and live life with us here in Oklahoma. It is hard to not focus on what was not there, though- that big gaping hole, that part of my heart that feels like it got left behind.

My family. My old friends. My people.

I remember someone writing in a book for us, when we left St. Louis. "See you at the Great Feast". I remember thinking that was so glim.

I don't feel that way anymore.

I look forward to a day when we shall all be together.

I wish people were talking about THAT day, and not Chick fil a, and or whatever kind of theological squabble is trending this week.

Annie says all of the time. "I want to give Jejus (jesus) a hug". How beautiful.

I pray for a heart that wants that, too.

she hath been washed.

I don't know what we will remember more, that is was a hot Summer day, the good food, or that Millie almost dunked herself on her baptism day. We all nervously listened to Father Jack, as he poetically described this most beautiful sacrament, all the while, Sweet Millie kicked, crawled, growled and screamed her way through the entire ceremony, and was grieved to find out  we were not Baptist when she didn't get to jump all the way in!

hot!!!

The heat has zapped all of my creativity! Not to mention a Summer cold that had me down this past week. Seriously, 114 today. I took the girls to the zoo at the crack of dawn just to get out of the house, but the heat just makes everybody crazy. All I did was scold, correct, threaten the entire time! Mommy of the year!!!!

But then I started driving to Target, because Sweet Millie is getting baptized on Saturday, and I needed to get supplies for lunch, and even the drivers on the interstate were crazy.

Ironically, the girls were angels the entire Target run- I guess they were appreciating the frigid big box store. They are usually crazy in there, too.

We made it home, all drank a gallon of water, and they are out!

Was it worth it? Do you ever really know?

I'll write more when I get my sanity back...

and it won't be about Chick Fil A.

But it may be about the women's gymnastics team. Oh my gosh! They are rock stars! I heart them!!!!

GO USA!!!

radio silent

Somewhere over the last month, I kind of felt like I was losing my voice on this blog, which is usually symptomatic of my own life and choices. A few rough weeks of feeling not physically up to par, a couple of dr's throwing out the word "MS", a long few hours in an MRI tube getting scans of my brain- and well, whatever footing I felt that I had gained over the last few years, felt like it was withering away. This merged with a week of vacation with family, which always stirs homesickness in me.

I have also become increasingly self conscious about my words, my stories. I really see myself as a writer, and so my words may often lean into metaphors and melancholy, or sarcasm, or overly pious. I blame the writer in me. The need for words to be more than words, to somehow wrangle some truth out of them, as I toss them out on the page. Maybe, just maybe, one word will make something clear again. for me, anyway.

I have taken a risk by letting perfect strangers, family, and dearest friends into my head, on this blog. This worries some, comforts others. I know, because you have told me so.

Anne Lamott says,

 “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better.”


I think about these words a lot, because writing doesn't always mean making friends. But I have to balance that with the fact that I actually love my friends and my family and even my strangers.


Trying to make everyone comfortable with my words is wearisome and a challenge.


I think writers probably always struggle with this. The better ones, probably less. because they know that writing is risk taking. Telling stories is messy, just like the real life that we live. It's also beautiful, and love and redemption almost always peek through, and I think that's why we keep reading them. and for me, writing them.


I'm going to keep telling my stories here. Because this space has kept me sane.


My husband recently told my Dad that I was someone comfortable with sadness, and that this has been a way to bringing people into my life.


I am comfortable with sadness, but not in a glim way. Hopefully, I pray, in a real way.


I also want to be more comfortable with joy. and peace. These emotions are harder to access for me, but they are there, and I know the benefit of living in those spaces, too. I know, because I have sat in the presence of many of you who are gifted with such presence.


That's all for now. Summer is hot and busy for us. The kids have been sick and I just made sweet tea. I am reading a great book, and  I do not have MS. 


It's all good people. It's all good and hard and happy and sad.


hugs.


brooke

dear Millie, upon 16 months

I wrote your sister when she was 16 months, so here is a little letter to you.

First of all, I can't believe you are getting so big. I guess I thought you would stay a baby forever. You have been the sweetest baby, so that would have been all right with me.

God gave your sister spirit, and he gave you a gentle, but fighting spirit.

You saunter around, looking for something to eat, something to hold.

You bury your little head in our knees, as if to say, just love me.

You are very attached to your lovie and paci. These are your constant companions.

that, and me and Annie. daddy, too- but you know, he's out there making a living and all!

You came into the world fast, but have nestled in close from the get go. like you know that entrance was fast and furious, and the rest of your life would be about taking it slow.

You are saying a few words. like daddy, and uh-oh. and more. you can say ball, too.

You don't seem to be talking a ton yet, but you love saying "AHHHH- CHOOOO". I guess we sneeze a lot around here.

you love playing chase with Annie, and your giggles are contagious.

We are all just generally goo goo over you, and can't imagine this family without you.

I love you!

mama

house rules

have you seen these? all over pinterest? hobby lobby caught on, I saw a big canvas yesterday.


anyway, in my effort to keep it real, I made up some of my own.


in this house.

we throw spaghetti on the floor

we throw tantrums

we watch a wee bit too much tv

we forget to brush our teeth

we may or may not say expletives when we almost have wrecks

we wash our colors and whites together

we occasionally drink real coke. with high fructose corn syrup.

in this house

we try to pray.

we try to forgive.

we get frustrated.

we read, but not as much as we could.

we love, but not as well as we could.

in this house

we live by mercy.

we wrong each other a million times a day.

in this house

all we have is jesus.

and even that, we tend to forget.

the things we say

The comparison game. I think this is women's biggest downfall.

I didn't think it was mine, but I am learning differently.

That thing that wells up inside me when I feel like someone is trying to do better than me.

feed their kids better. feed themselves better. better activities. more reading. less tv.

you know what I am talking about?

My heart leans into the critical. Some folks start feeling insecure, I just get angry.

Why does everyone think they are so damn awesome? Don't they see how BAD they are making people feel (ahem, me?)


And then I think about my own life, my own words, my own journey?

We share these tidbits of our lives, I think, because of the pride (not bad pride) that wells up in us we actually start making strides for good.

When God gives us what we need to be who we want to be.

And that's what I am fighting for today.

I don't know how we fight for these things without coming across judge-y?

I don't know how to receive someone else's victory without feeling condemned?

I think about my own spiritual journey into the Catholic church. How do I write among my protestant friends without sounding like I found what was right, and everything before was wrong?

But I am seeing, that one could feel this way? I hate that.

I hate it because I don't feel that way.

And so, I guess I want to say here, 8 years later on this little blog, that we are all in this together.

I am not better. Being Catholic is not better. I drink Coke sometimes. and eat too many cookies.
I care about health, but I am not always healthy.

at the end of the day, I am just a girl, in need of God's love, and begging the world to find some mercy in the way we treat and write and talk about one another.

I think life must have been easier, in some respects, when you lived on a farm, and didn't know what all 429 of your friends were doing, reading, vacationing, and eating at any given point.

thank you, facebook, for officially making us all generally unbearable:)

we hath this treasure in earthen vessels....

the illusion of a photo.

that life is hot tea, and flip flops, and warm baked bread.

these are all images of my real life.

but my real life is also hacking coughs, sleepless nights, three year old tempers.

It's take out, for a week, because mama just isn't feeling it.

there is always before me, the ideal. the hope. and the reality.

I love among them all. I catch glimpses, even live the life I long for, for brief moments.

but I am always reminded, always- that I hold these treasures in earthen vessels.

this week, I hear of two young mom's living out their last days battling cancer.

Lord, have mercy.

I watch a plane crash on grey's anatomy and remember a dear friend who lost her life in such a way. the tears fall. I am not sure I have ever really cried over her loss.

Christ, have mercy.

I look at my own life. I see an update of Facebook about how someone has planned a Summer full of paleo meals. I feel judged.

Lord, have mercy.

and then I went to Sonic and bought a milk shake. Because I am free. and loved. 

and then I walked three miles, because I am free and loved.

and life is short. I have learned that the most this week.