there are no little things

As the year closes and a new year dawns, a person can't help but to reflect.  In many ways, it was a very productive year.  In many ways, it was not an easy year.  In many ways,  it was a time of growth and realization.

I stepped out of molds I had placed myself in.  I stepped into new adventures.  I recognized some weaknesses I possessed, and while acknowledging them, I moved on.

This was the year my youngest became a teenager.  This was the year I became a chicken momma.  This was the year we lost Silas.  This was the year I traveled back to my hometown with my eldest.  This was the year I reconnected with my yoga self.  This was the year I read a lot.  This was the year I found a strength within.  This was the year I fell in love with growing things. This was the year I recognized beauty in life and death.

On the precipice of a new year I reach for the things I gained in the old year, eager to carry them with me.  And at the same time I lay down those things that are better left behind.  I am thankful for my experiences and, with all the hope of a child, I look forward to new adventures in a new year.

A few of my goals:

1.  explore more writing

2.  count my blessings

3.  see the good

4.  say I love you

5.  take risks

 

My less poetic goals:

 

1.  finally decorate my bedroom

2.  keep a nature journal

3.  organize the garage shelves

4.  expand my garden

5.  read, read, read

 

 

 

Sometimes, when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think…there are no little things.

 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

it is Christmas

It is Christmas.  My family has been gracious to me over the last few days as I've spent most of my time laid up on the couch, sick with the flu.  I've not been this sick in a very long time but today I feel more like myself.  My husband is good to me and willingly picks up the slack but it feels good to be able to wash up a sink of dishes and take care of the chickens. 

My Christmas preparations took a backseat to just getting healthy again.  The cinnamon rolls came from a pop open can.  The veggie tray and Chex mix didn't happen.  As it turns out, these things really only matter to me.  Simplicity is the name of the game and everyone is content.

Let's repeat the mantra "Christmas is not about the presents" while I tell you how my guys spoiled me so.  I received a generous gift card to a clothing store from my youngest son.  He rode his bike downtown to purchase the gift card by himself.  Selfless.  I also received fuzzy socks and my favorite dark chocolate truffles. 

My coffee will be sipped in style with my new mug that says "there is not enough coffee in the world to make me a morning person".  Can I get an amen?

 

My husband got me one of those new casserole crockpots and I'm super excited to get to using it.  Actually, I'm going to use it today for scalloped potatoes for our Christmas dinner, along with ham and brussel sprouts.  And it will come in very handy with the potlucks we do every Sunday at church.

Also gifted to me: my favorite novel.  I look forward to reading it again and again. Holding the weight of the book in my hands, the words like familiar friends speaking to my heart.

 

 

 

 





 

"Christmas is not about the presents"

 

We have a friend that is a photographer.  While at his home recently, he shared with me a beautiful photo he had taken.  He was able to capture the beauty of an aged white rose among rust colored fall leaves, the light playing off them.  I saw something more in the photo, prevailing beauty through pain, a theme that has resonated with me over the last year.  Our friend gave me a large print of the photo, ready to frame and display.  I feel honored that he would give me something as personal as his artwork.

 

Along the same lines of generosity I feel like I should mention my employer.  I feel very blessed to work for this Christian woman.  She cares for each individual employee as a human being, not just a means to a fiscal end.  We were all spoiled at our recent Christmas party where my husband and I feasted on prime rib.  I was given a generous bonus inside a Christmas card with a personal handwritten note.  I'm thankful because I know that she is an exception rather than the "norm" as far as bosses go.

 

So, bottom line is: I'm grateful.  The people around me are generous, thoughtful individuals.  They allow me to see beautiful kindness that acts as a balm in a weary world.  Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

 

And, Merry Christmas.

 

Saturday before

It is the Saturday before Christmas.  I'm sitting here in front of a fire with a dog and a bowl of popcorn at my side.  It is mid afternoon and Blake is watching the end of a college bowl game on tv.  It's cozy, a day that calms the soul.

 

I made some treats earlier to share at church tomorrow.  My kitchen is one of my favorite places to be.  It is my space, my things, my organization (good and bad).

 

Lemon cookies (light and soft and perfect).

 

 

 

 

Pretzels with dark chocolate kisses melted in between,

 then dipped in white chocolate and sprinkles.



 

 

Blake and Charlie were checking out the neighborhood together.

 

 

 

Last Saturday we were in Arlington (Washington) at a JROTC competition.  Seven schools were represented.  Austin shot with the rifle team and took 6th place.  His team earned 1st and 2nd place overall.  Here he is with 3 of his teammates (he is 2nd from the right).

 

 

 

This next picture is from the award ceremony.  Our JROTC is represented by the group in the upper right corner, that isn't all of them, just the representatives.  The rest of the 90-some kids from our school are sitting in the bleachers just below me. The group on the lower right is Marysville Pilchuck.  You may have seen them in the news as they suffered a school shooting just six weeks ago.  They were top notch at this competition and took home many awards.  My Austin is in the center of this shot, standing there in the middle of the group of three, receiving his award for marksmanship.

 

___________________________________________________

 

Happy Saturday before Christmas to you!

early December

"I almost froze my buns off!"

This from my next door neighbor the day I went over with her mail and some fresh eggs.  She was referring to the cold snap we had last week.  As a petite woman with a child-like voice, to hear her say "buns" was amusing.  She appreciated the eggs and was sure to tell me she likes to look out her window and check on my chickens.

The weather has warmed up enough to bring on rain.  The chickens are, at this moment sitting on the back step just under the overhang of the roof, preening themselves.  Earlier I caught Braveheart up on the woodpile, looking down on the other hens with a sort of satisfaction mixed with trepidation.

As with most folks, we have decorated for Christmas.  We picked out a beautiful tree at the local tree farm.  The teenagers helped hang the old familiar decorations despite the fact that they can barely be together for 5 minutes without arguing.  Oh, this may be the thing that unravels my ever-lovin' mind!

These "China dolls" were given to me by my 4th grade teacher, Ms. Maxfield.  She had been a missionary to the Philippines.  These are one of my favorite possessions and while my children think they are creepy, they grace our Christmas tree each and every year. 

 

 

 

The coop could not go undecorated.  I made the girls a simple wreath with plastic ornaments.  Here they are studying the new addition:

I read a great book this week, Brain On Fire.  This is an account of this young woman's battle with a strange brain disease, how it took her into the throes of madness and back into health again.  Now I'm certain, with each forgetful spell and each crazy moment that I am indeed going mad and I have some sort of neuron-killing virus breaking down my brain bit by bit.  Or I have teenagers, which is more likely.

The eldest teen is in Olympia today at a rifle competition. The venue for this particular competition is little more than a barn with cement floors and no heat.  I think he likes the challenge but I bought him those little air activated hand warmers anyway and told him to stick them in his pockets or his socks or wherever needed the warming!

The youngest teen and I made sugar cookies.  We used my mom's old cookie cutters.  I love the vintage look of them.  And the memories.  My boys have been playing with these cutters since they were babies.  Whenever I was in the kitchen and they needed something to occupy them I'd get these out, along with some old measuring cups and spoons.  They'd be content while I did whatever I needed to do.

 

The finished product.  With some visitors at the back window.

When I was little my dad would sometimes make me lunch.  He was great at Top Ramen.  I liked it with a squirt of ketchup.  It's a sort of taste of my own childhood.  Not healthy, barely food, loaded with preservatives, stays in your gut for ages, high sodium.  I know, I get it.  But today, I fixed myself a package.  The brain has a section to remember smells and tastes and it associates these with other, more palpable, memories (I learned this in the book I mentioned earlier).  Today, I got to remember my dad.

as gold

True story:

Once upon a time there were some churches in Macedonia.  Macedonia is in Europe, just north of Greece, for those who like this sort of detail in their stories.

These churches faced a time of great trial.  The trial itself is not of importance in this retelling.  Just know, they were at a low time.  Because of this trial they were afflicted.  They were impoverished.

Maybe we would imagine that they shut themselves up in their churches, drew the curtains, and wept.  Or they budgeted what was left of the church finances, tightened their belts, and settled in for a long, hard year.

Could it have been that some folks just gave up altogether, went home, and went about their own business?  Maybe they whispered among themselves about the leadership.  Maybe they questioned God.

But, in actuality, these people didn't do any of that.

With everything that they had in themselves, with all their power and then beyond any power that they possessed, they gave themselves to the Lord.  They offered their lives for His service.  Fully surrendered to His will, they gave themselves to serving others.

They didn't have much, materially speaking, but what they did have they gave it all.  They gave of themselves so generously that one would have thought they were rich.

These people, in what could have been a terrible time of depression, instead possessed a great JOY that defied all logical explanation.  This joy was not an outward show, no fake smiles and plastered on happiness.  No, they embraced what was happening and chose to serve God through the pain.  And God rewarded them with HIS joy.

The firing pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold: but the Lord trieth the hearts.  Proverbs 17:3

These folks were tried and found faithful.  Maybe we can all trust the process a little more in our own lives.  Despite circumstances, throwing ourselves into the service of the King.

This little bit of story is found in II Corinthians 8:1-7.

And for myself I would pray Job 23:10 -

 

But He knoweth the way that I take,

 

when he hath tried me,

 

I shall come forth as gold.
 

highfalutin

We went to a soiree.

Nobody there was quite sure what a soiree actually is.  But we were there.  Soiree-ing.

It was really rather posh as far as things go.  Especially when you're used to coffee dates at Home Depot.

Posh.  Like goat cheese and cucumber sandwiches.  Like lavender tea and fresh fruits.

And we talked.  To people.  Which is big in and of itself.

When we were finished soiree-ing we came home and I beat the expert level on Just Words and my night was made.  It doesn't take much.

And somehow, in these days that roll into each other, my fifteen year old son has decided to start sending me text messages that make him sound mature.  And I compare him to the in between state of Jekyll and Hyde.  One moment Jekyll.  One moment Hyde.  Mostly Jekyll.

But this is where we are.  Parenting a couple of really great teenage boys.  Hob-nobbing with folks at a soiree.

And in my day job I'm still a waitress, lest you think I'm getting too highfalutin.

Some mornings before I head off to work, I cook lentils for my chickens.  They love lentils.  And sometimes I mix in quinoa or rolled oats.  And they, in kind, lay some really great eggs.

 

 

 

This is a scene from our Friday night in, a little later we got down with a crazy game of Scrabble.  I know, you can barely keep up.  But that's how it goes with us.  ; )

 



 

flames of debate

I stumbled onto a train wreck on social media, the kind where someone poses a question concerning a hot bed issue hoping to incite some worthwhile discussion.  The flames of a heated debate ignite and it becomes an ugly, opinion and emotion driven battle.  The fire dies down eventually, leaving all parties just glowing embers of something that was, raw from the destruction.

Then I opened my Bible and read Titus chapter 3 and my heart leapt when I realized what God was showing me.

"This is a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm constantly, that they which have believed in God might be careful to maintain good works.  These things are good and profitable unto men.  But avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and vain."

It's easy to take on the attributes of a Pharisee: so wrapped up in doing and being and appearing "just so" that we forget Jesus.  We get critical of ourselves and twist and morph into an image we've devised in our minds.  We get critical of others, playing the judge, rather than loving. 

Hot bed issues, such as the one I had stumbled upon, will not be resolved by debate.  Hypothetical questions cannot be answered.  After everything has been said that can be said, no one is the wiser.

Charles Spurgeon recommended some strivings that should be avoided, things that could become social media train wrecks if not marked and avoided:

~ points where Scripture is silent (basically, if you can't back it up by Bible, move on)
~ mysteries that belong to God alone
~ prophecies of doubtful interpretation
~ modes of observing human ceremony (those man made traditions that become religion)

I'm reminded here of the verses in Matthew 15:8-9 :

"This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me.  But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men."

We are to be gentle, showing all meekness unto all men (Titus 3:2).  We are to go about the Lord's business: loving, doing good, being fruitful, showing kindness, turning from evil, serving joyfully.

And if you feel you must ask questions, do it of yourself.  Turn the enquiries on your own heart and soul.

~ Do I believe Jesus?
~ Am I growing in His grace?
~ Am I walking with the Holy Spirit?
~ Does my conversation speak well of the Lord?
~ What more can I do for Him?

Honestly attending to these questions will leave you changed, unable to partake in the needless strivings on social media.  You'll see the vanity in the drivel.

Become consumed by serving the Lord and loving human beings.  There won't be time for anything else.

 

Depart from evil and do good;

seek peace and pursue it.

Depart from evil and do good;

and dwell forevermore.

 

Psalm 34:14 and Psalm 37:27