7 Years

Seven long years. It's a long time since we publicly pledged our "I do" to each other. Seven years is a turning point in the life of a child, in his growth and development, as many educators and physicians recognize. It's enough time to get some history under the belt of a marriage. Time to "I do" to that and "I don't" to this. Doing about two of those seven years at a distance, like long distance dating, it's tempting to forge ahead with one's separate lives, forming plenty of survival habits and self-made schedules that will all need to change with reuniting. It's tempting to pretend like nothing happened in those seven years to need readjusting. We've gotten along thus far; we are basically fine, right? Where the hand of God is at work, there is no pot-in-the-fire "fine" for long.

Wow.

A new Advent season.  Reading our recently old posts, I can report that we have indeed "minimized," moving to a 2 bedrm apartment and rediscovering what is "essential."  I want to get back to writing, but the deployment and repeated moving needs-based survival schedule took over.  So, I guess I haven't actually simplified enough if there's still no time for what I used to think was most important.  Maybe re-ordered priorities happened in the process.

Moving Day

The time has come to say goodbye to our old house and make our way into the new. With the help of our church family and friends, we are able to pack it all up in a timely manner and make the transition with the comfort of their presence. I'm looking forward to the new neighbors we'll meet, even as we will miss our good, good old neighbors. I'm looking forward to the new things O can do since we'll be within walking distance of ice cream cafes, library and his favorite playgrounds. With many tears through our thanksgiving, it's good to have a time of leaving one's "old life" behind and pressing forward into a new.

[disclaimer: the house in the background is not ours]

Ash Wednesday

As we wait expectantly for the new life that comes with the Springtime,

our inner man is under reconstruction,

and we are ready for ashes and confession.

Lord, come quickly!  Amen.

Listing one's Thanks

Ann Voskamp's new book, One Thousand Gifts, made it into our house and is challenging a very small group of discontents to make that list of things one is thankful for, to list the things we thought were ugly and mere distractions from "real life"as the things that help refine our hearts.  It sounds way too simple, and perhaps like wishful, positive brainwashing, but the exercise of giving thanks is akin to weight lifting and squats--small intense movements that produce long term, major effects.  There's a way of understanding the common, everyday things that we miss in the blindness of a perspective of mundanity.

Our morning toast is a gift of someone else's labor, therefore we owe thanks.

The cream cheese on my bagel is a gift of produce from a creature of the earth, therefore I am indebted and render thanks.

And tea--what would the day be without it?!--a gift that travelled far and through many hands to reach us, thus multiple layers of thanks is offered for this one cup.  

I am impressed, upon thinking about the things I'm thankful for, what a debtor I am.

living in light of joy

For our friends who are trudging through the nitty gritty red tape of adoption; I read this poem and thought of you.

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.


Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir

Learning to read

"For most of us it takes years and years and years to exchange our dream world for the real world of grace and mercy, sacrifice and love, freedom and joy."

In Eugene Peterson's book, Eat This Book, I am studying to read again.

on occasion

What's the one household chore one can do while in labor (with child) and recovering from violent illness? Laundry, of course.  The exertion is minimal, the industrious hum of the dryer and washer, and the reward of fresh diapers, towels and socks that need no immediate folding are a satisfying way to make oneself feel not entirely useless even when gravely weak.

My latest FlyLady habit to practice is a load a day.  Before one goes downstairs for the day, grab an armload of dirty clothes, and fill the washer to the brim.  But only one load.  I admit to cheating sometimes,   calling diapers that extra load that's more it's own project than regular laundry.

Laundry Room.  Not something we commonly take pictures of of think too much about!

Snow day!

In the recent snowfall, we bounded outside before the hidden sun disappeared completely.  We bundled O in his rainbow fleece suit, layered on socks, and grabbed the camera.  While Herbie ran wild around the neighbors' yard, chasing cats, and the children next door dragged out their round sleds, Eric got the ball rolling for the snowman, carefully stacked and defended from O, who wanted to attack and topple the little snow guy.    

After a while, the cold became too much for even rainbow fleece suits.  O was becoming a grumpy snowman by the time we hauled him back in for dinner....

And eating at the table is always fun time, especially when aunts give you vest-like bibs with patches!

This Year's Theme: Minimize

You know that seasonal feeling of cleaning out the closet, the pantry, or the garage?  Well, this year Kelly and I have felt that same feeling not just as a seasonal feeling, but as a general life calling.  Why?  I am really not sure.  I wish I knew.

Sure, we are up for orders this year, but in all reality we will propably just stay here.  True, we have put our house on the rental market in order to move from a lovely home in the suburbs to a small loft or home in the middle of the city, but we could still fit most of our stuff in there if we wanted to.  So why?  Why would I want to get rid of so much of our "stuff" and live with as small a footprint as possible?  Am I running from something?  Are we having a mid-life crisis already?

To be sure, I am not sure.  But I would say that this idea of minimizing is in response to a feeling of the heart.  Ok, so maybe feeling is not the right word, but pressure may be.  I have met more people over the past year who have seemed to be light posts on a dark and lonely road. . . and they have all felt the same thing.  Over Christmas, I was talking with a friend and he said "if I could put a word to what we are doing this year, it would be minimize."

Christ Himself was all about minimizing.  All He asked us to do was take up our cross and follow Him.  Maybe that is the key.  Maybe I am finally just learning to live as a Christian.  At least that is what I would like to think is true.  Perhaps I want my identity to be more tied up in who Christ is and what He wants me to do with my "stuff" than tied up in just my "stuff."

Regardless, the urge and desire is there.  Our prayer is just that we would be wise to follow the desire with discretion and follow wherever He may lead.

Rest

"As I swore in my wrath, They shall not enter my rest. . . So we see that they were unable to enter because of unbelief." Heb 3: 11-19

I consistently fall into the trap of thinking that if only I could get the proper amount of time away from my work, or go on a real sabbatical, or maybe even get 8 plus hours of sleep per night I might finally feel rested.  But the heart of the matter lies not so much with the rejuvenation of my body, but with the rejuvenation of my heart.

And so in order to find the rest that I need to carry out the work I have been called to, I need to seek out not just time off, but time with my Lord, the giver of life and the rest that He provides through His strengthening Spirit.  Rest for us in God is rest forever.  Let our prayer be then that we have belief in Him with the finality being a rest that is eternal and real.

Advent Musings

"A voice cries in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord:  make straight in the desert a highway for our God."  Isaiah 40:3

This Advent season is proving to be one of great preparation for me.  And well it should be.  Advent is the season in which we prepare our hearts for the coming of the Christ, our Saviour.  Perhaps more than any other Advent season, this year is allowing me to prepare myself by looking into my heart, which is in turn the catalyst for driving me to Christ and the miracle of his birth.

As I ponder the hardness of heart, the lack of grace, and my critical nature in general, I recognize a darkness in my spirit that is devoid of life and warmth.  Despite my greatest efforts I can not fill this void or add heat to my cold heart.  Only God, through Christ, is able

And so I pray that this season of lights proves to be a season in which my dark heart is illuminated by His grace, love, and sacrifice.  Praise be to God, for his gift of Light and Life, and may His Spirit cause me to make straight in the desert of my heart a highway for our God.