Thursday, June 26, 2014
I am purposefully ignoring the laundry piled next to me on the couch, sunshine and laundry never mix in my world. Perfection would be the word that I would choose to describe these last few summer days, warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and several hours in the flower beds. Pulling, pruning, pondering placement. Digging in deep, coming up dirty and satisfied. I always have enjoyed playing in the dirt. Digging up worms and creating houses for them out of mud in my mothers bread pans. Begging Grandma to let me keep the worm at the dinner table because it was my friend (country living can be lonely at times). Covering our plastic rocking horse with mud and picking my own switch as a result. Sandcastles, sculpture, pottery and gardening have marked my development. I have never had a manicure, these hands weren't made for glamor but rather for laboring, loving, digging, molding, holding, and raising. My hands are that of my mother, short, small, strong. I think of my mother as I stoop down to pull weeds and tend to the flowers. Many times I am told how much I am like her. I think to myself "No I am like myself", but when it is in regards to gardening I don't mind so much. Her hands create beauty in whatever they touch, music, art, dirt, and so I am happy to have her hands. I hope to be known as a woman who creates beauty wherever I go, and to whatever I set these hands to. To look at me right now you would think that I am in need of a break, three children, full ministry schedule, 2 day old moo-moo, dirty hands and feet. Always barefoot, this is the given. Ezekiel is showing me his flip book he made, not quite right but a good attempt. The kid has been burning through paper at an astonishing rate, part of me wants him to conserve and not waste so much, and the to other buy stock in art supplies. He was in the dirt all day with me, playing with worms, digging holes, sitting quietly. Heart of my heart, me to the bone. It is odd to see yourself reflected so completely in a small person. This is life right now, interrupted in every way, yet part of me wonders if the interruptions are the real life, and every thing else just filler. I am not good at self care in the set apart sense, but I care for myself in others ways. I bathe myself in the laughter and love of my children. I find my zen during tough moments, deep breaths. Balance is a baby on my hip, and a hot cup of coffee in my hand. Sleeping in is lazily nursing baby in bed, while the boys play in their room. Alone time is grabbed here and there. I care for myself by surrounding myself with life. Plants, birds, children, music, fellowship, coffee dates, red wine, insane camping trips with way too many kids, these are the things that bring me life. So I forgo the laundry, and have completely given up on any kind of daily or weekly schedule. Finding beauty in the chaos, moments in the frenzy, life in the interruptions, grace in my failings, and redemption woven into all of creation. Creator God living in me, consuming me with his beauty, causing it to splash out on others, covered in dirt and full of his breath.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
I lost you somehow, right through my fingers. Some losses are easy to loose, the bonds are broken and the heart strings removed. Not so with you dear friend, it has been years and yet I feel a closeness that will not leave. Geography and time have separated us, but I forgot to cut the heart strings. My brother and friend. It was an easy friendship, gaps of time spanned instantly in a moment of conversation. We were always able to pick up right where we left off, but we left off so long ago. I look forward to when we are able to pick up again.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Sleep evades me. We used to be so close she and I, it was easy. Like a small child passed out in the back of the car, carried up the stairs, put into pajamas and then to bed without even a change in breathing patterns. I remember once going to the drive in movie. The old Aries station wagon with wood siding, my parents called it a lemon. But that night it was a magical place, the back seat laid flat, piled high with pillows and blankets. My sister and I in our pajamas. Excitement. I have no memory of the movie. I remember the giddiness, the popcorn, the speaker placed in the window. I remember waking up as my parents pulled into the driveway, pretending to still sleep. I was carried in and placed in bed. We only went that once, the memory will always be with me. Sleep was easy then, achievable without pills or libations. I am not sure when things changed, when the one thing that I craved most became the hardest to achieve. I do know that having small children has tightened the sleep parameters significantly. It is a hard start to the morning, no more lazily hitting snooze, slowly pulling oneself out of bed and then indulging in a cup of coffee that stays hot to the end. Mornings are now hurried and immediate. Baby nursing, hungry boys, and a tired body that fell asleep a mere handful of hours before. But there is no anger, no resentment, as my children climb into bed with me and shower me with affection. The baby taking a brief break from nursing to smile and coo, making the sacrifice of sleep small. I long for the day when I will make beautiful memories for my children, where details evade them, but the joy does not. I pray that they will be friends with sleep for many years to come, and that some day I will reconcile with her as well.
Monday, June 9, 2014
There is a lie out there, it permeates our first world minds, leaving a bitter taste whenever challenged. It is the lie of ease. Somewhere in our first world cultural mindset we decided that life should be easy, nothing bad will ever happen to us, and fairness is possible. Simply closing our eyes to the brokenness in the world and wishing it away. This is deadly poison. The moment actual life happens, pain happens, babies die, family leaves, abilities are lost, we are sent into a tail spin. This doesn't happen, yes it does. It happens thousands of times every day all over the world, and it sucks, it is painful and hard. Life is not easy or fair. But I believe that it can be good if only we can learn to live in the moments in between.