Extreme Adventures in Motherhood (and life and knitting and photography and trying to keep a house with 3 boys from smelling like a locker room!)

The sun was out. LOVE that. Driving with the sun roof open. Gotta love that. ( I have wanted a sunroof, all my “driving” life–(Ok- I’ve always WANTED a Red Mustang Convertible.. but car seats are a tight squeeze- and the expense it ridiculous) -I love finally having one-(sunroof- not a mustang) albeit in my old, permanent marker -drawn on truck. Yeah…permanent marker—- long story- funny- but- for another day;)

Sunshine was warming my face while I drove. Radio— was definitely louder than necessary. I hate McDonald’s — But— I was Lovin’ IT!!!

Then, the wind picked up.(or my car sped up— I don’t remember which.. ok- probably the later…sunshine and loud music makes me drive faster. I’m HUMAN!)

Anyway- the wind started whipping my hair, into my mouth. I HATE that. I looked in the mirror— this is NOT helping my HAIR.

I reached up- to close the sunroof—- then, that little voice- from the backseat- (my Noah- not God) started laughing.

“Mommy— your hair is DANCING!!!!” I looked in the mirror.

That’s not exactly how I saw it. I was thinking something a little more like– “My hair’s gonna be a mess when we get there.. I better close the sunroof- or I’ll look like an idiot.”

Being the perfectionistic freak, that I am..I almost missed the party. I didn’t even know it WAS one.

(the party my hair was having)

I decided- NOT this time.

Instead of closing the sunroof- (the next thing would be to turn DOWN the radio- that always follows- closing sunroof) - - I turned UP the radio… (it will be ME getting ticketed for this- not my teens)

Then- Noah and I sang at the top of our lungs—(”Ancient of Days” then Third Day’s- “God of Wonders” (badly- on my part- I must say) Noah- me and my hair- all dancing in the wind and sun in my truck. THAT’S a party. That’s a dance. Something , NOT to miss.

The MOPS theme for next year is John 10:10 “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. “

Maybe It WAS God’s voice thru Noah- after all…. a little reminder- to lighten up. Enjoy the day.

I think- I limit God’s fullness in my life- in all kinds of lame little , self imposed ways- like closing the sunroof- on a sunny day. Cause I’m worried about my hair. Or, by wearing too much black– “cause colors/patterns would make me look fat.”

When, I really LOVE brilliant colors. (Yeah- I know- BEING fat is making me look fat- NOT colors) There are probably in LOADS of other little things- that I do as well. I think God wants to work on me, in this area. There have been lots of other things that God wanted to work on- that weren’t as pleasant;) — this one, sounds pretty good to me…

Stay tuned- I’ll keep you posted. ;)

I am so glad- that God reminds us of His truths- with the “still, small voice” even though- sometimes- for me- it sounds an awful lot like Noah— from the backseat.

Dear Lord- I pray you’ll help me to ENJOY the life you’ve given me… the wind the sun- all of it Lord- help me not to limit you- because of my lame ideas of “correctness”- or “perfection” I love you Lord- and want MORE of you. Help me to live FULLY! amen

April 25
UMMM YEAH– ISN’T THIS A KNITTING BLOG????

I have the POWER!

Behold— she takes flax and wool- and spins. She creates garments for her family of scarlet- to warm them. They do not fear winter……

(or something like that— I know there’s something similar in PROVERBS 31….BUT- THIS IS NOT A LESSONY TYPE POST— THIS IS A “LOOKIE, WHAT I LEARNED” TYPE POST.

I started my spinning lessons a couple of weeks ago. I went to assauge the guilt of purchasing a spinning wheel I am too inept to actually use. Or, so I thought.

Now- I am Obi Wan… I have found my spinning Yoda. “Grasshopper— can you snatch this pebbel from my hand???” “Why, yes- spinning master- I believe I can……”

I have found her- she resides here:

http://http://www.spinningloft.us/

At the Spinning Loft. The owner is wonderful- and is a phenomenal teacher.

I am not an accomplished spinner- (duh) but- I actually MADE YARN! Photo evidence is below.

OK- maybe not quite so dramatic- and not really very important. BUT. I can do it!!!!!

The shop is loaded with beautiful fibers- of every color and texture imaginable. There are a number of wheels to try- and the owner- (Betty) is just as welcoming and encouraging as possible. She quickly picks up on your learning style- and communicates to you in a way- that you will surely understand.

All the things I READ online- and in magazines— she brought to life- and helped my hands to do. She can see what I’m doing rt- and wrong— and helps me to spin in my own way- yet in a way that will create a usable yarn.

So here are my little first fruits….. –the purple- is a luscious soft purple merino— which I twisted into a mess. Betty told me to hold off on spinning that one…but I couldn’t wait to try it. SLIPPERY. Uneven. I’ll get better.

The red- cream is a corriedale/merino silk blend- top— very nice- and not nearly as slippery— much easier for my beginner fingers to manage.

Next are two bobbins of fuschia wool. The smaller of the 2 is my VERY first bobbin. The larger- I did this week at home- I thibk I’m developing a more even spin- and I’m happy with the plying. I have realized a few things:

1) I am going to need more bobbins— or learn how to skein the yarn. (We’re skeining washing etc this week)

2) Spinning is relaxing. Rhythmic. Textural.

3) I am not a big retarded spinning loser- after all.

4) I still think it’s weird.

5) I like it anyway.

The pics also show my Debbie Bliss silk Kiri— (had hoped it would be ready for Easter—- it wasn’t.) I WAS about to start the border— but in my artsy stupidity—- I dropped like 20 stitches off the end-and will now need to rescue- that section. That will require quiet- and chocolate. I’ll have to wait.

There is also a red sock- (Interweave—- spring— don’t remember the name….) I decided I don’t like the yarn— (today anyway) so I plucked out the needles- and cast on with Louet Gems in a pretty purple— much nicer hand— not all rough and scratchy.

I also knit up a pair of socks—- which I’ll put pics up to show tomorrow— as I’ve decided they are a post in and of themselves.

Why? Because, I believe I have discovered “Freudian Knits”.

Please don’t be alarmed- I have not adopted Freud’s theories— however- there is something to be said for the sub-conscious— and I think I’m doin some “Freudian Knittin” you’ll understand tomorrow.

Try not to bust a blood vessel thinking about it…(Yeah- I know no -one will- but let me have my imagination!)

Going to Spin a bit more… (and laugh at myself as I do it… cause I still don’t believe it.)

Dear Lord— I know that Spinning is not important in the “Big picture”… but I have to say- It’s incredible- the capacity you’ve created in each person– to LEARN… to CREATE…..To move hands in a way as to accomplish a task. When I look at the amazing potential of your creation- both in people and the Earth- I am just amazed. Thanks for the reminder Lord—- I suppose you are with me and teach me— even in the silly things– like spinning! I love you Lord- amen.

God definitely has a sense of humor.

I got the chance to teach at church again today…..the topic…..”forgiveness”.

My initial response? Ouch.

See— I “get” that I need to be forgiven… I can be a real jerk on ocassion. What’s a bit more painful… and a bit more difficult, is forgiving others.

It’s not that I’m basically a mean- unforgiving person….. it’s just that there are SO MANY little ways I catch my self being unforgiving…..

But let me back up— see this is pretty typical of my journey with God, it generally goes like this:

I read something in the bible— I have an opportunity to “practice” living it out,I don’t live it out. Then I figure- I don’t have it right—so I better UNDERSTAND exactly what God is saying. That involves work.

Study.

It’s easier just to open the Bible, and read what it says….. then, assume that I understand… but- when I do that, I miss things. Sometimes BIG things.

Like in understanding Forgiveness.

Here is the greekword for- and meaning of- forgiveness:

Forgiveness:
Word Origin
a[fesiß

Transliterated Word
TDNT Entry: Aphesis

Definition:
release from bondage or imprisonment
forgiveness or pardon, of sins (letting them go as if they had never been committed), remission of the penalty

Ok… on first glance– I’m good. I’m not generally throwing people in prison.

I’m good, right? Nope.

Here’s my issue—– it’s not JUST about throwing people in prison.. (physical or emotional) It’s about REMISSION of penalty. Most of the time- when someone sins against me, It’s not gonna be a judicial offense. We’re not talking 20-30 years…I don’t throw them in prison.

But- somehow- I manage to find LOTS of little ways to punish people without sending them to jail. I might blow off their opinion….I might NOT say something nice I felt like saying… because they “don’t deserve my nice words”…..I might NOT do something nice for someone— because, well- because they ticked me off.
Little, almost invisible punishments.
Nice, quiet, non- swearing “Christian” ways of punishing people?

NOT. They arereally just harboring unforgiveness in my heart. A thing that God detests.

Told ya— OUCH.

The bible says that God has forgiven me… so I SHOULD forgive others. It also says if I DON’T… God isn’t “bound” (in a contractural sense) to forgive me. Mark 11:25 And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”

Does that mean I let people walk all over me? Nope. But it does mean I clearly communicate when they hurt me- and forgive them. It also means- that some people- hold a smaller place in my life “budget” because they frequently hurt me.

It’s all kind of messy. Cause- it isn’t cut and dry. It’s about the attitude of my heart. The truth is I’ve been a Christian ( just trying to follow God) for a long time. I’ve gotten pretty good at “appearance management”…Aren’t we all? I’m rarely overtly nasty. But- the temptation to be a LITTLE retaliatory– that’s where I get messed up. I can be pretty creative when it comes to thinking of little punishments.

Oh, I guess I just mean that I can be un-forgiving— while still LOOKING like I’m being forgiving. It’s not about saying the words– (though that is part) it’s about allowing God- to change my heart. And offering to Him my hurts— and trusting Him with the judgement.

I doubt I’m the only one- with this skill. Sometimes, I honestly don’t even KNOW I’m doing it.

How about you? DO you have little ways to punish people? I challenge you to take a look at your heart— and you actions- allow God to help change yours too…

I’m just so glad that God is patient- and kind- lovingly offering me little reminders…. like lessons I need to teach… to cause me to study.. to show me the “little” (HUGE) things that are tripping me up. To be with me and help to change me.

I’m glad He forgives me— I need it.

Dear Lord- I love you- and I thank you for forgiving me.. I can be a real jerk. I need your help to be more forgiving Lord—please help me to see the “little” ways I strike back at people.. help me NOT to do them. I love you Lord– and want to be more like you. amen!

Thriving… and then there’s surviving…. today’s a surviving day.
There are days when I feel like I thrive as a mom. Today is not one.

At the moment, it’s 6:40 p.m. and I’m wondering if benadryl (rec dosage, of course) could possibly end our day a couple of hours early….

Please. You know it’s a temptation. Especially on days like this one.

Things were fine till about 10:30. Then things got bloody.

Bloody is NOT good. Especially when Daddy is gone. (work)

Noah, my little monkey, decided to get something from the freezer. (Probably, Easter candy) I was in the next room. I heard the stool GROAN and scrape, across the kitchen floor- I said “Noah….Don’t….” That’s as far as I got. Then , I heard the crash.

Crashes from the kitchen are never good- either. I bolted into the kitchen.

Noah was on his back, in front of the fridge… blood dripping from his mouth- and the stool- laying on his face.

Not good. Again- NOT GOOD.

I picked him up— and noticed, thru the blood— that his front tooth was gone.

FRONT TOOTH GONE, is not good. Split lip, NOT Good. Daddy being gone…. VERY NOT Good. (Daddy is the official “Holder” when it comes to stitches and such… I am just not “good with that.”

I cry. Crying Mommies in the ER, don’t help. They scare children actually- their own, and others.

Oh- I also have a bit of a tendancy to faint. Just a bit.

The big guys weren’t up yet. Lets just say- I CAN quickly scare them out of bed, when I need to.

I did. (need to) So, I did. (scare them.)

We got dressed and out the door to the ER pretty quick. Big guy #1 rode in the back seat, to keep Noah company in his carseat, while I drive like a nut. ( I think I missed a stop sign… sorry bout that)

Four hours later, (and 2 new “kid” friends for Noah later….he’ll probaly be sick from the germs he picked up…..) Wiggling his little body into a “GOWN” FYI 4 year old boys DO NOT want to wear dresses with circus animals……then…an x-ray to assure that the missing tooth hadn’t lodged in his throat..(it hadn’t) .. He seems to think- that x-rays are a good opportunity to pose in his “baby karate” moves…..and then, struggling to (quietly-without yelling…I mean) keep the boy from skating across the floor and into things that are sterile….(and easily knocked over) stocking feet and a slick ER floor— can only mean an opportunity to skate, of course.

We stopped at McDonalds on the way home…. Noah fell asleep. I thought things had calmed down. Surely, we must be on the “UP side” of this day. Nope. Some days just don’t work like that.

1/2 hour after we arrived home— Noah climbed up onto the couch- to play “Spiderman and friends” on my laptop— and promptly- put his ONE front tooth thru his BOTTOM lip.

More blood. I am not a “Mompire” I don’t like blood. I don’t even like typing the word b***d.

There was plenty of it today.

Noah had an adventure. Mommy survived.

Some days are like that.

By the time this posts… you may notice that time has elapsed. “How long does that woman sit at the computer? No wonder that kid is into so much…….” You may be thinking…

Especially after I tell you what happened during the 10 minutes it took to write the paragraphs above.

Noah found the toothpaste I left on the kitchen counter this morning- (yes- I opted to brush my teeth AND put on a bra, before we went to the ER…with the first child I wouldn’t have- I’d probably have called the EMS. Noah is child #3, I knew he would live )

After making his DISCOVERY… he proceded to fingerpaint the kitchen with it. Yes- I was 15 feet away. Yes, I am, apparently a bad mother- and quite possibly an idiot.

Or, maybe not.

The truth is- as a Mom- there are wonderful- fabulous heart warming days. And then, there are days in which you are happy you survived. Today was a survivor kind of day.

Hmmmmmm maybe a new reality show—- Survivor Mom… You take a preschooler—- a typical home, a bit of extra energy- and a Mom with some mundane task- like oh… LAUNDRY maybe? Then see if she can accomplish her task— as well as keep her preschooler from feeding the dog toothpaste- or losing a tooth.

Can I win a million Dollars? Can I win if I kill no one?

The truth is- most days’ I do. (not win a million dollars—- I SURVIVE, as do my children, bicuspids intact, generally.)

99 percent of the time— Mothering runs along ok. and then there are days like this.

It’s only 7:23. I would LIKE to think it will get better now. But, it may not.

I am trying to minimize the potential danger zones…. like cooking dinner- (we’re currently waiting for the pizza guy.)

I’ll be knitting with soft plastic needles—- we’ll watch a lame movie, eat on paper plates…..probably with our fingers… no point risking utensil injuries…..

Quite possibly I’ll wrap them all up in bubblewrap- (don’t be ridiculous- of course not their heads….) then tuck them in bed.

Maybe- then, I’ll eat some cookie dough. Raw.

Or- I suppose- I could pray.

Truth is– I really DO FEEL like God was with me today—- as bad as it was. It could have been worse. Even the fact that I went to the hospital- and was totally prepared to do “the hold-down” for a stitch-up- is God. I knew I could do it without passing out- and I wouldn’t be alone. He was with me.

Though- I’m SO GLAD I Didn’t HAVE TO!!!!!!!!

So- why post? For just this reason- cause- someday- maybe not soon- as a mom- you’ll face a “survivor” day, and just maybe- you’ll think of this experience- and have hope- that you can make it…

Trust me, if I can, you can.

Dear Lord- I thank you AGAIN for all my “guys” I pray that you help us survive the rest of this day, I pray that you help me to remember— that EVERY day isn’t like this, and I can make it thru the ones that are. Lord- I just plain ask for help- I’m pooped. I’m so glaad you’re here with me- I love you Lord- amen.

Now- for your further encouragement—- *pictures*— because- to Noah— everything is a SHOW. He wanted daddy to see his teeth. Which he said– “He misses” (his teeth- AND his daddy) .

However- as a point of authenticity- the toothpaste pushed me over the edge- Noah spent 15 minutes in time out for that one- there are no pictures- it wasn’t cute. I’ve had all the patience and good attitude I can muster for one day.

I’m all out.

Easter Sunday.

When I was a kid it meant scraping my front teeth along the solid chocolate ears of a “Palmers” Hollow Chocolate Bunny. I pretty much threw out the rest. But— those sweet chocolate shavings, melting in my mouth— those announced Easter is HERE.

One of my favorite Easter memories, was the year we made “Paperplate Easter Bonnets.” (paperplates - centers cut out- then LOADED with silk/plastic flowers and ribbon…. they were probably UGLY as anything— but, I remember them as beautiful) Then, we had an Easter Bonnet parade thru the school. That was, you know “back in the day”. Now- my kids would probably be suspended for such an atrocity. Easter vacation is now Spring Break.

I didn’t grow up in a “Christian Home”…so maybe my Easter memories are pretty limited. WE did however- watch The 10 Commandments EVERY year…. I’m not really sure why- other than to point out that my dad looks like Charlton Heston….(which we did every year— and still do) We can say- my faith journey started late. I guess.

There were things I just didn’t GET about the whole Easter thing. I remember as a kid, thinking “Good Friday” thing was sick. “How can a Friday be GOOD when it’s about some wonderful, kind, loving man getting killed on a cross?????” How can we celebrate- somethng so unfair? Something so “Bad”. I remember having questions— but no one to ask for answers. I think that makes me a little more sensitive to kids, who want to understand. But don’t yet “get it”.

For whatever reason, God was pretty much not talked about in our family. I was allowed to GO to church, (I went on a church bus- actually- I doubt you could get away with that at this point…) ) and I went with a neighbor– who was probably the first authentic Christian I met…. but as far as understanding… asking and “Getting it” no- I didn’t. I got CHocolate bunny ears at Easter. Thats about it.

Maybe thats part of what drives y passion for working with kids. See- I believe they have a greater capability than “memorizing” and repeating stories. Kids can process information, ask questions and “get” spiritual concepts- but it taks time, authenticity and a safe atmosphere.

Yesterday- Actually for the first time ever, (i teach often- but not on Easter) I had the extreme priviledge of teaching children not just the STORY of EASTER, but the” WHY” and the “WHAT to do with it”. Too. The kids asked questions— I talked about questions I had as a kid. It was awesome.

I love these kids. They are incredible. They think about the things they are taught. They question and wonder. They say “they don’t get it” when they don’t “get it”. I learn so much from them.

When I teach- I tell them what I know- thru learning and study, what I’ve learned thru experience(application) , and also- what I don’t “Get”…. like— what EXACTLY happened to that boulder the size of a Volkswagon that was blocking the tomb? Well- it got moved— but the Bible is a bit sketchy about the exact DETAILS….What ever happened to the guard? Did he get killed for letting Jesus “escape”? (that was the punishment for a guard shirking his duty…) The Bible doesn’t say.

When I’m teaching- and I have a question- that I don’t see an answer for- I tell them. I also tell them- that it’s important for them to READ the Bible for themselves… there are questions that they may have.. or things that they’d like to know specifically that may not FIT into a curriculum…. I tell them to read and find OUT! I try to encourage them, that there is SO MUCH MORE to learn and know about God.

More than I know. More than I have experienced, more than I can say.

I see teaching as a modeling experience. It’s an opportunity to pass information, AND to model the processing of the imformation.

A few days back- I posted about Grace.

It became the into to the Easter talk. I wanted the kids to “get” WHY we celebrate and why we NEED Jesus. So I talked about my first experience with Grace.

I talked about my Mom’s love for me. I talked about God’s love for us all. I talked about HIM wanting US to be at “the Dance” (heaven)

Most, had already seen the pictures- (a few weeks back) they LOVE seeing pictures of any adult, when they were young.- especially if they looked like a dork. ( I did) I think they “got it”

I pray they did. I love teaching-taching lots of things- really— but, I believe there is NOTHING more important to teach- than the Gospel message.

Dear Jesus- I pray for each child you brought to Metro- (and adult) over the Easter holiday…. I pray that they wouldn’t have just heard a “STORY”… but, that they would have met you. I pray that I showed with my actions- and authenticity- as best as I could, what you have done- and a bit of who you are, and then- encouraged them- to DO something with that. Lord- as everything starts to blossom and bloom- in the Spring- I pray that the little bits of truth- that were shared— would be like seed- and start to grow something wonderful, exciting and unique in each one that heard it this weekend. I pray that faith would grow. I pray that faith would birth an incredible journey, one that would be life long.

CAUTION: These are thoughts and concerns that give me a headache. So, be forewarned.

I have a problem.

(well- I have a lot of them —- today we’re just gonna pick ONE!)

Here’s the thing:

I am passionate about my particular calling. I love people. I love their thoughts- ideas, creativity, and uniqueness. True: Some people annoy me. I strongly disagree with their opinions….. But I am amazed at God’s unique artistry in how he designs people. My passion for people comes from my love for God. Because I love God, I love the people He made— I see little reminders in them- of Him.

Not exact replications… But little reminders— similar to the way I love my friends kids- first on their own merits- then— because they remind me a bit of their parents- whom I love- and love to be reminded of.

I also- absolutely love ministry to women, children and families. I love the church. (By which I mean the church as represented in acts… Etc…)

Not seeing my problem? On the surface, you wouldn’t. I’ll try to get you into my brain for a bit. Hold on- it can be a crazy making place.

Because I am PASSIONATE about Jesus, about His people, and growing them in Him….I read, I learn, EVERYTHING I can… About how to do ministry well…..Some ideas I soak up— some I disagree with…. Some I just don’t know what to make of.

Some of the things I read bug me. No, I guess they make me sick.

Here’s why:

See- It really bugs me- when one particular “theory” or “approach” to ministry is presented in a way that is critical of others. It FEELS very wrong to me. It FEELS like pride. It FEELS like discord, that is not biblical.

Honestly- it feels like sin against the body of Christ.

It sounds like “See— this new thing I’m doing? THIS is the way to do ministry… All the previous ways—- they are Wrong….SEE… HERE’S WHY… THEY ARE WRONG…..blah blah blah……”

I guess to me- it sounds like a judgment against anyone not “doing ministry” the same way— is OBVIOUSLY not hearing from God…..” Because if they WERE then- of COURSE they would do things MY way. “

Here’s what bothers me about this. I am passionate about my unique calling. That DOESN’T mean I demean the unique calling of others. I am called and equipped to minister to women, children and families. That DOESN’T mean I feel Men’s ministry is less valuable. I back Men’s ministry. I minister specifically to Moms thru MOPS, that doesn’t mean I don’t think ministry to women who have no children is less valuable. I minister to Moms with Preschoolers- that doesn’t mean I believe the Mom’s with teens have less important needs- or that the needs of those older than me are less important.

I have chosen my particular home church- based on the “non negotiables” of Christianity. These are the things that I believe cannot change- and still call yourself a Christian. I have also chosen, based on my personal preferences and personality- and those of my family. (to me- the stylistic is negotiable- music, liturgical style Etc…)

That doesn’t mean I demean

de·mean2 (dĭ-mēn’) tr.v., -meaned, -mean·ing, -means.
To debase, as in dignity or social standing: professionals who feel demeaned by unskilled work.
To humble (oneself). See synonyms at degrade.

the different needs styles and choices of others- based on their unique design by God.

The world is a very BIG place. HUGE. There are 6,446,131,400 (July 05 estimate) PEOPLE in the world. They range in age from birth to death. (duh- I know) That could be up to 120 years old. ( I made that up) EACH and EVERY ONE MATTERS TO GOD. God desires to minister HIS love to each one- thru believers.

There is no ONE Approach, or formula, that will work. HELLO. 6,446,131,400 PEOPLE (sorry that was snotty)

WE desperately need EACH OTHER. The Body of Christ abides in US… TOGETHER. Each one doing it’s own PART. (just search for the body in the bible— you’ll see it pretty clear) The traditional minister to those who respond to that approach, the non-traditional to the non traditional. Each one does it’s part- to minister to the WHOLE EARTH.

The current culture and generation are important- as are the REST of the world. The gospel is to be preached in it’s entirety. With a plurality of methods- based on the needs of those to whom it is being preached to. The message doesn’t change but the method does. (these are not new ideas——I didn’t say they were) That EVERY man should Know—That Jesus Christ is Lord.

I love learning the “new approaches” I appreciate God’s passionate calling, and unique design. I take what will work for me - in my current cultural atmosphere. And, I try to disregard the “attitude” of superiority that can come with exuberance.

But should it even BE THERE? I don’t think so. And I use it to caution, and remind myself.

I fight against my own.

I LOVE the creative process. I love developing something “new”. I love experiencing the synergy of ideas shared- and developed with others. I have been a part of the exciting “birth ” of a different approach to ministry. I have experienced the trap- of pride, and the feeling that my passion should …..oh.Let’set’s just say “reign supreme” that money, time and effort SHOULD be poured into MY area of passion……. of course.

I’ve learned that God calls us to an area of ministry- with passion- for a purpose. That flame is what ignites others. I’ve also learned, that it takes MANY flames to light the World. The Gospel is the light- we are the lightbearers. Each one is a unique “container” for the light. Designed with a specific purpose, to light a specific area.

I can’t warm my home with a candle. (well- I could if I used it to set in on fire— that’shats not really cost effective now is it?) I don’t speak Spanish. I’m glad that God uses Spanish speaking missionaries and believers- to minister to those who do.

I don’t live in Russia. I’m glad God uses believers there- to minister, there. Their approach is going to be different- than my approach here- in Canton, MI. Or - yours wherever YOU are. It has to be.

I’m NOT talking about changing the message. I’m talking about respecting each other as God’s image bearers- His light bearers….. allowing for those differences- while holding TIGHT to the truths of scripture.

(ummm simple yet also admittedly, infinitely difficult truths.. Like Jesus is the only way- that God exists in three expressions/persons, yet is ONLY one God…That we get to heaven by Jesus’ sacrifice and grace, Not by our good works, Yet our faith without works is not living…it’s dead you know…these things…..)

The old song just keeps rolling thru my head…. (I suppose there is a lot of emptiness up there to roll around in…)

“They will know we are Christians, by our love, by our love….”

(Sometime I’ll share my DH’s version of that song— it’s hilarious, in an ouchy kind of way!)

(Love- First for God- then each other- then overflowing to the WORLD…..) Instead we look like a bunch of cranky critical jerks, with prideful attitudes that say MY WAY is the BEST way……

Dear Jesus- Please help me with my strong feelings in this area—- these are major trigger feelings for me— they make me want to say— “shut up. You’re a jerk- can’t you respect others. DO it MY way— with respect…. ” When I feel like that- I’m … well in a hypocrite. If you want to be technical…Because, I’m doing what I say NOT to. I’m being critical. Please help me to learn what and how you would have me to minister. Please give me wisdom and courage to confront what I should- please take that HUGE log out of my own eye ,before I try to do surgery on some one else’..Please knit together your body Lord- and help us be one. I love you Lord, Amen.

The Incredible Edible, Easter Dyeable, Oh so squashable EGG!
Can you build a contraption to hold and protect an egg, then drop it, from one story above the ground- and have it land, without it breaking?

My middle-schooler did. He’s awesome. (Ok—- he had a team of middleschoolers— but- he’s mine- so of course it was all about Matt!)

I can’t do it. I’ve tried. Not as a science project….. but more as a life project.

Here’s the thing- I’m an egg-squasher. From “way back”.

I think I remember when it started.

In my Grandpa’s “Secret Garden”…. well- thats what I called it in my brain anyways.

My Grandpa was incredible. He could do ANYTHING. He was an executive— at work— he was a magician at home. Not in the “watch me pull a rabbit from my hat ,” sense, but in the green-thumb, creative,artistic sense. Which is a strange combination for an auto- exec!

My Grandpa’s backyard was truly incredible. There were raspberries growing in a huge prickly sweet- hedge-(oh my word they were the BEST) There was a TOTEM POLE that my Grandpa made from a telephone pole, ( I don’t get it…..I’m sure it was inspired by something— maybe just the consternation of my Grandma!) there was a garden- with Persian melons….tomatoes,a nectarine tree, A huge, knee of your pants staining Mulberry tree…..english lavander for my Grandma (she was born in Wales) that attracted the biggest fattest cartoon looking bumble bees in the world!

There was an arbor over the patio (built by Grandpa- of course) that was covered in beautiful deep orange bell shaped flowers- that actually DID attract hummingbirds. There was a squat little shrub that looked like a gnome. (I may have named him— but I don’t remember…)

I would stay at my grandparents over the weekends— it seemed like pretty often— but maybe the memories are just so vivid— that they stand out– I’m not sure. ;) Living in Michigan- during the summers we spent as much time outside as possible….(make hay while the sunshines— even if there is no hay!)

Grandpa was a morning guy—so am I.
We’d get up early- go outside and “work in the yard” (Grandpa worked– I picked flowers- ate raspberries and ran away from bubble bees!) One day- Grandpa called me over to the mulberrry tree—with his hand stretched out holding something tiny and blue….
- “Careful…come here!”

Grandpa handed me the prettiest pale blue speckled robin’s egg. He handed it to me—and said- careful— go and show Grandma!” I was basically amazed— and scared. It was beautiful, and delicate- even I could see that. I clenched my fist around the egg—- tight- so I wouldn’t drop it. I was pretty sure I would drop it.

I rushed to the doorwall- arm extended—- clumsy, bony kid legs running to beat the eggs inevitable “fall” from my hands—- concentrating with every undiagnosed ADD bone in my body- on NOT dropping it.

When I got to the door— I peeked into my hand. SQUASHED. My pretty delicate treasure was broken—- I felt like a murderer. I cried. My Grandpa told me- the egg had already met it’s “end” before I had ever seen it— but it didn’t matter— I was the one with the broken shell in my hand.

I loved it - literally- to death.

I wish it was the last time- I did that. I wish I could say I learned to be careful- how I held things from then on. I haven’t always been.

I’m an Egg-squasher. I have a tendancy to hold things too tight.

Like, my spouse, like my kids. Like,my dreams. Like,my friends.

I have trouble letting go. Sometimes I try so hard to protect the things I love— that I squash em.

But- I’m learning. My 16 year old laughs. “Remember when you only let me ride my big-wheel from our driveway to our next-door neighbors? Man, Mom- talk about over protective.” (He was like 6 at the time)
A friend “Intervened” and suggested 1 driveway per year. (Hey—- maybe I should let him DRIVE All the way around the block now….!!!!)

My kids sailed thru “Separation anxiety” in the normal- healthy way—- I,on the otherhand….. developed “carpal tunnel” from clenching and unclenching my hands to tight…. trying to hold on— but knowing the best and right thing for them- was to LET GO……..

I guess I still am.

It’s hard though. See- like that little blue speckled egg- the things I love- I want to protect. And I should.

However-

—–NEWSFLASH—- I am not in control of the universe. (which is probably a good thing…)

No matter how much I try to protect—- I can’t. My Grandpa was a magical gardener— but- even in my Grandpa’s Garden… there were little invaders— bugs that didn’t belong—birds that ate raspberries before I COULD!! Eggs that fell from nests…..

I guess all these blue Easter Eggs remind me of this. They also remind me of the reason why I CAN let go-
why I can let my teenager drive a car— go to public school, be out of my sight. Go farther than one driveway.

It’s wrapped up in the Easter thing. See- while I am not in control of the universe- I know who is. God. While I sure don’t trust the world— (cause- let’s face it— the world is a pretty sick and dangerous and wonderful place) I can trust the one who holds the world in His hand.

The more experiences I have- both good- bad- painful and happy—- the more that I learn— that whateer happens—- I can get thru. But- not alone. See- when that egg broke in my own hand… i needed someone to tell me the truth. I needed someone to console and comfort me. To understand my grief. My guilt.

My Grandpa did that in the backyard.

Jesus does that in my life. He doesn’t always protect me from brokenness- but I am never alone in it.

We wnet to the park the other day- with the boys- just to goof off- in the sun. I took a picture of Noah— he found a treasure— a juniper berry- I think. He gently held it in an open hand. Loving it— showing it— but not squashing it. (And- NO- Noah- you cannot eat them- they won’t kill you- but please dont eat stuff you ind at the park– just in general)

If you look—- you can see something that amazed me— his hand is blurred- the berry is blurred—- but HE is sharply in focus.

I think- the more sharply I keep Jesus in focus—-the looser- my grip becomes on the things -people, I love—– not because I dont care— but because I know HE cares….. and will be there- with us—– regardless of the cracks that happen because we live…….in a bumpy world.

Dear Jesus- I can’t build a contraption to protect- myself- my kids my spouse or friends- from the hurts of life–
But- I do want to. — I ask you to care for us-in this messy place- I ask you to help me to trust you- to help me hold them with a tender- but open hand- so I don’t SQUASH-em like a robins egg…..I love you Lord- please help me to trust you more- every day. Amen.

http://twowoodensticks.blogspot.com/2006/04/warming-grace-update.html

You can read here about “Grace”.

WARNING!

Her beautiful face will steal your heart. Her story will compel you to action…………It did me. It also made me think.

The internet- is the only place I’ve met THIS little Grace…..though she has touched my heart.

But- I distinctly remember the first time I met GRACE.

I was in nineth grade. EVERYONE was getting ready for the “BIG EVENT” The Nineth Grade Dinner Dance. It was the first “formal” any of us had the opportunity to attend…. A HUGE deal……

One that I BLEW big time.

Nineth grade- was still “Jr High”, and well— let’s just say I was a pain in the butt. Probably partially because of my “stage of development” (read: pubescent) and probably partly because of my personality (read: stubborn and MOUTHY)

But- After all the searching for a perfect dress, (oh man- me and the JC Penney Catalog were VERY close for a number of weeks) all the planning for perfect hair options…. the planning of accessories- and choosing of shoes…..

I got grounded.

I deserved it.

I was warned.

You can only imagine the river of tears that I cried— the bargaining that I did.. the tantrumming- the pouting, the begging the pleading. “My dress is already Ordered!” “I made a Promise TO MY FRIENDS!” and yes— the all time favorite of teens—- “EVERYONE else is GOING!!!!!!!!”

None of them worked.

On the morning of the dance— I cleaned my room… (I figured THAT might work…)

It didn’t.

Around 11:00 a.m my mom said- to “get out side and get some sun!” . I thought maybe I had gone too far- and made her lose her mind….BTW this was before we knew how bad the sun could be….

(I didn’t exactly feel like THAT) But, there was no point asking for more trouble.

I put on my Swim suit— and sat in the sun– with all the teen accoutrements- of tanning— baby oil, walkman (yeah- Cassettes– oh probably Springsteen, John Cougar, U2 and some Culture CLub/Wham stuff….—-I’m old- get over it)

Shortly after, my mom left in her car— Her (way cool to me at the time— light blue metallic- Datsun..blah, blah insert letters and some numbers here——-)

A while later—she returned.

Her face was still cranky.

She got out of the car… and leaned intot he back seat- she pulled out a LONG plastic garment bag. JC PENNEY in Pink lettering…

“Tracey Lynne- Come in the house” ( “Crap- could I be in MORE trouble????” I remember thinking)

That was all my mom said.

Duh. I went- no argument.

We sat down on my bed—-with tear in her eyes- my Mom said- to start getting ready for the dance. Even though I had totally deserved not to go— she didn’t want me to miss out on the dance. It was special.

After several frantic phone calls— and a few more hours of primp and fuss…..

My dad came home with a corsage in pink roses….

Then, I went to the dance.

My parents weren’t perfect. BUt this was an important day for me.

Not, because of the pink and white gunne-sax knock-off gown from Penney’s… or because of the perfectly flipped hair…..(complete with “Sun-In” highlights…..)

But- because it was the first time I met GRACE.

Years later- I heard someone describe Justice, Mercy and Grace this way:

Justice is getting what you deserve- I was a jerk- I was warned- I deserved not to go.

Mercy is NOT getting the punishment that you deserve. I could have been allowed to go— in something from my closet– or in something borrowed- or found last minute….

GRACE- Is when we get the opposite- of what we deserve. I got the gown- the flowers- the tan—the asseccories– everything a girl dreams of for her first dance……

My Mom paid the price for the grace I experienced that May.

It really was the FIRST time I remember experiencing Grace.

It wasn’t the last.

A few years later— I learned about the meaning of Chirstmas- and then Easter. I learned about GRACE that comes from God- something clicked. I “Got”that- well- I sin. I deserve the punishment for that- (basically,Hell) Oh Crap- now i’m in serious trouble.

I also learned that Jesus had already “bought my dress” that he loved me, regardless- and wanted me at HIS dance. He paid the highest price—- death- for my attendance.

I sure wasn’t gonna turn down that invitation- or argue about that one either.

Just hoping this Easter- that you have an experience with Grace— of both kinds—– I challenge you to knit a square for the beautiful little Grace…….to help knit a blanket to warm and comfort her thru her treatments….

And I’ll be praying that you remember your first experience with GRACE —- and have another one—- with Jesus.

Hey- you could even post about it-on your BLOG!
or comment— What a thought!

Feel free to trackback- and steal the title—- that would be awesome!

Dear Jesus- I can’t even thank you for your Grace enough—- I also lift up this beautiful little one to you- I ask you to be with her- and her family- to loving warm them- and hold them, I ask you to heal her Lord- and to give her doctors wisdom and guidance. I also thank you for the ways that I’ve experienced “GRACE” in my life- and pray thst others would be reminded of theirs - too- I love you Lord- amen.

Me Do…. All By Myself.
“Me Do It. All By Myself”.

It’s actually funny, when Noah says it… but then— Noahs 4.

Let’s just say- I’m not 4.

It’s not so funny when I say it.

And, yes- I do, well…maybe not EXACTLY….”Me DO, ALL BY MYSELF” But— pretty close.

I LIKE to figure things out for myself. I don’t LIKE to need- help. I fight against it with every bit of my guts….

Honestly- I can usually figure stuff out. I don’t mind looking stuff up— and learning HOW to do things…. but, I mostly like it to be a challenge- that I can overcome— and surprise myself.

I figured out how to fix the pipes under the sink… how to poke holes in the ceiling so the water would drain THRU— and not rot my ceiling… when the washing machine overflowed upstairs.. and started dripping from the kitchen light fixture….I liked teaching “myself” how to knit… and continuing to learn…. pretty much on my own….I liked figuring out how to jump start my car…..how to make stuff “happen” in “excel”…. etc…

Then came that stupid Spinning Wheel.

The Ashford Joy.

I just can’t figure it out… I keep reading the books— I keep looking at websites… It’s truly become a challenge. I can get some fluff to wind onto the bobbin a bit—- but it’s just not fluid… it’s not like a “natural” activity.

I was close to giving up…. then I decided to actually—— ASK FOR HELP.

I found “The Spinning Loft” http://www.spinningloft.us/
thru “SPIN-OFF” magazine…. http://www.interweave.com/spin/default.asp

I went yesterday—- and visited with he owner— she was wonderful…. suggested some great starter fibers—- and a months worth of lessons…… LESSONS? You mean LET Somebody teach me something? I’m supposed to figure stuff out on my own…. she said “Spinning doesn’t work that way”.

Hmmmm………….

OK. So, I start this week.

But- it made me think…….. it made me feel challenged……as a teacher—- I need to constantly- be open to being TAUGHT….. which I try to be.

But— I have to overcome this “attitude” of expectation that I seem to have for myself…

That I SHOULD be able to “Do it All by myself”…. I constantly have to fight that feeling…..I have to LET other people help me. Sometimes- it’s in small challenges- set up by myself… like spinning— sometimes it’s in big challenges- in life… like parenting, my journey with God—- relationships….. etc….

My BRAIN understands that the Bible says that I am supposed to be “Interdependant” a part of a “Body” that works together—- to accomplish a goal…. whether thats in church- or at home— or somewhere else… my EMOTIONS feel like a toddler—- saying “ME DO IT ALL BY MYSELF”

Maybe I’m socially, or spiritually or emotionallly retarded….. I’m not sure. (retarded meaning slow to learn)

Sometimes I have to be reminded about things I KNOW by experience—— like HELLO… I NEED to NEED help sometimes——

DUH.

Yeah- I know…… there are pride issues wrapped up in it - or ego issues or something…. the name of the issues aren’t as important as what I DO about them…..

I guess this week- as I go to my “spinning lesson” it will be an exercise in learning… yes…. but also an exercise in humility. In a strange- small and somewhat silly way— it’s a chink in the armor of my pride…. an admission of weakness— I can’t learn this alone…. I need help.

Hmmmm…. in the back of my mind— I wonder if this “exercise” will burn many calories… ()

I think there maybe some spiritual FAT to burn off in this area…….. I’ll let you know how it goes— spinning or oherwise.

Dear Lord— you and I have talked about this stupid stubborn streak in me SO many times…. thanks for being so patient- so gentle- and for showing me over and over—- how much I need help— please help me to be always growing in this area— not in relation to yarn Lord—- but in so many other areas. Help me to be teachable. I love you Lord- amen.