Mindful and present

Today's view from the porch is deceiving. While the grass is certainly greening and there are little sprouts of tulips and daffs in the flower beds, it is chilly out there this morning. There are snow showers in the forecast and I am missing the warmer days of last week when it was wonderful to walk outside. Those days will return soon. The weather is giving me the excuse to have a "sweatpants Saturday." The kids are on spring break now and, boy, do we need a break.

There's a lot going on in our family these days. The kids' dad is in the hospital in Iowa City and its a serious situation. We're being very gentle with each other, finding a lot of strength in ourselves we never knew we had, and feeling both grounded and lifted by the love and support of family and friends.

The last gasp of winter weather draws us to stay in today. It calls for movies and basketball, naps and cups of coffee, homemade waffles like Auntie Ar makes, and freely giving hugs. I think it also calls for a big pot of "end of the week" soup. Whatever I find in the veg bin is going in the pot.

In light of the serious nature of what we are dealing with, I am struck that we are simply living, mindful that life is a gift. It can be messy and it is often not what we expect. But the best part of this gift is found in the everyday moments of life - laughter, tears, work, sleep, and love. Living with a new focus on gratitude for this most amazing life.

Life is full of surprises. Expect them.

The world's axis shifted in more ways than one these past several days.

These days, one needs to have multiple personalities to keep up with all that is going on in the wider world, the country, the state, the community, and my own family.

Mother Nature had mercy on us this week and gave us some warm and sunny mid-March days to remind us that, yes, Virginia, there will be a spring. More daylight in the evening has allowed us to get outside after dinner. The early spring air smells so...muddy.

My vices of comfort this week have been the delectible taste of spring spinach and the NCAA men's basketball tournament.

Honestly, the events of the past several days on all fronts have been life-changing. No whinging about my life - my family and I were not buried alive under a tsunami of mud.

But...there have been some very, very close calls this week with those closest to me. As my son John says, "Life is full of surprises. Expect them."

Always Look On the Bright Side of Life...

Somethings I love...

My daughter did not blink an eye or even ask a question when she came in my room this morning to find her big pink plastic box of crayons on my bed next to a drawing pad where I had left them.

My son turned the kitchen upside down this morning to find his great-grandmother's recipe for coffee cake. We're still looking, but Bisquick did the job in the meantime.

DaVinci blend coffee at Saints Rest in Grinnell on a winter February afternoon with a good book and 45 minutes to myself.

Friends who Facebook with me while they are in church and I am at home.

This week, I read that some people think Facebook is making us depressed. I'm thinking they don't have the right friends. I'm living through some of the most challenging days of my life right now and I am buoyed by the network of friends, both those from my childhood and those who are relatively new. Just this week, my friends and I had moments of sharing love and memories of amazing women from my home church. From England, Iowa, Minnesota, even Kenya, we all were united in one big roll call of admiration and celebration of the lives of these women and how they touched each of us.

Look for the hate and anger in the world and you will find it. You will feel worse for it. Look for the love and potential in this world, the little things that make you smile, and you will feel the divine.

January Saturdays

There is something about this time of year that compels me to spend hours cooking. I know I am not alone in this. Even the lady at the checkout counter said that she loves to bake at this time of year as she placed the flour, sugar, chocolate, and nuts in my shopping bag. And Mrs. Sundberg's post this week nearly echoed my past weekend. I made three soups for the week and a pan of dinner rolls...

This weekend, I have a reason to bake. It's my turn to bring treats for coffee hour after church. Two pans of brownies made last night - use the recipe on the Baker's Unsweetened Chocolate box. Yes, making them from scratch is worth the extra step. On the baking roster today will be chewy date nut bars and chocolate chip cookies. All the while, soup will be going in the crock pot and on the stove. Tomato, lentil and barley, a split pea, and I'm going to see what I can do with broccoli...

This week, my home-body self was affirmed when it was revealed to me that I am in fact a Cancer and not a Leo. I have never really followed astrology - I know my sign and the traits of my sign, but it never really fit me - ambition, the spotlight, devouring my enemy... anyone who knows me knows that is not me. 

But, I do have a highly developed sense of intuition. I am an emotional and sensitive person. I am trusting, to a fault. I seek the good and positive in every situation. I am a homebody and love to spend time in the kitchen. I knit more than half of the gifts I gave at Christmas this year...As I read the traits of Cancer, I was gobsmacked how they fit me so much better than a Leo ever did. That has been a fun surprise of the week.

Time to put on the coffee, to pull out Grandma Pearl's measuring spoons and get the oven started. Stay warm today. 

A New Year's Toast

The view from the porch today is a cold one... A cold front has passed through during the night with gusty winds that has blown away the fog that has blanketed us for several days. The kids and I enjoyed a quiet New Year's Eve. Friday night is pizza night at our house and instead of the usual 4 for $10 kind that is often is, I had time to make homemade pizza. I tried a new recipe from the good ol' BHG standard cookbook, circa 1982. Wonderful crust, probably my best ever. 

We toasted each other with stemmed wine glasses, yes the good crystal, filled with 7up and cranberry juice. 

"Here's hoping that all the yucky stuff from last year stays there!" Emily, age 9. 

Well said, my little lovey. 

Is there a time to take Christ OUT of Christmas?

I had a great time reading to 2nd graders today at one of our local elementary schools. A group of us from work volunteered to read to students after lunch. We chose our books from a pile in the library, pre-selected by the school. I grabbed a book that looked fun and was written by Mem Fox. I love Mem Fox and this was a new one to me. Any kids' book that has 'wombat' in the title is for me. 

I wished I had flipped through the book before I made my choice, however. 

Dear little wombat was now old enough to have a part in the nativity play. He was either too big, too tall, too small, or too sleepy to be the Archangel Gabriel, Mary, Joseph, a Wise Man, or the innkeeper. He was finally chosen to be the baby Jesus. All's well that ends well.

I felt very uneasy reading this story to a group of school children in their classroom. I know, I am overly sensitive to this. There were several different ways of seeing this story. All the Christian children who know the story of the birth of Jesus could relate. All the children who may not be Christian may have felt like no one ever comes to read books for their religious holidays.  And the one little boy in the front who asked, "Who is Joseph?" completely confirmed for me that in school, it's okay for it to be a completely secular holiday celebration. 

I know this seems very strange to say, but there are times when I'd like to take Christ OUT of Christmas.  The birth of Jesus has nothing to do with sales at the malls, buying someone a Lexus, or a fabulous chunk of jewelry - exhilarating as it may be. It has nothing to do with cookies, bows, cards, drinks parties, and the like. It really has nothing to do with Santa Claus, but you can kind of see how we learn to pray in our Dear God/Santa...please give me everything that I want sort of way..

Until August of this year, I spent 16 months in a paid staff role as a Christian Education coordinator for my local church. I love sharing the wonderful stories of the bible, telling of the amazing people who have shaped our faith, the lessons to be learned from all this great history and how God still speaks to us today. Let's just say I was out of my comfort zone in a public school with children, save two whom I have taught in Sunday School, whom I did not know if they a) celebrated the real story of Christmas, b) celebrated a completely secular Christmas, c) observed other faith traditions, or d) did not celebrate Christmas at all. 

Yes, I know that I was the only one in the room who was uncomfortable. I'm grateful for the nudge of the Spirit who let me know that making assumptions is never the best way forward. I'll read again, with my Santa hat on, at school next year. But I'll be certain to pre-screen my selection first... 

Middle School

What an awkward age middle school is... I'm showing my age to call it "junior high." But in 7th and 8th grade, that's what it is to me, "junior high." It's that weird place in between. 

Tonight we attended the 7th and 8th grade winter concert at the high school. It won't be long before we'll be attending high school programs at the high school. In 7th grade, a girl in tights and Mary Janes will stand in front of a young woman in an adult dress, hose, and pumps. In 7th grade, boys will stand at five feet tall next to a young man of 5'8". And they are all the same age. 

The shyness of some of these young people is painful to watch. Each one of them feels as though everyone is looking directly at them and as a member of the audience, I almost want to look away. It doesn't seem so bad with the band, they have music to look at, they aren't looking out at us. But the choirs, their focus is their director in front of the ENTIRE auditorium filled with parents, siblings, and grandparents. They sing so well, but their shyness keeps them from singing. They were barely audible and I know 90 percent of the grandparents did not hear a single note they sang. Bless their hearts. 

I loved junior high, but I also know what a stressful and difficult time it is for those who are about to be teenagers. Is that how young I really was in 7th grade? I thought I was becoming so grown up. I wanted to be an adult at that age, but I was still just a girl in hose and pumps.

As I looked at them, I had this urge to tell my 12 year old self that it really did get better and life was different in ways I could never have imagined then. I wanted to tell my 12 year old self that I really wasn't as big as I thought I was at that age and I'd LOVE to be that size now. I'd tell myself that as we age, we care less and less about how other people think of us. We begin to own our sense of style. Those are things I want those beautiful, awkward, young women to know, and to borrow a phrase, to tell them that it does get better.