Fearless

How good is our God! How awesome. He tells us, over and again, not to be afraid... and then offers us the opportunity to be FEARLESS. What freedom He offers those who trust Him. What peace. A peace that truly defies understanding, comprehension or explanation. And yet there is daily opportunity for renewal because life can throw me to my knees in a split second. We can look around us, without the benefit of trusting God, and we are surrounded by pain, death, destruction, unbearable suffering, illness, perversion and cruelty. A broken world is breaking up all around us, like a city in the midst of an earthquake. But if I look at it through His eyes, I can see His hand in it. His plan being worked out. His goodness shining through in the actions and words of ordinary people. True Love. Overflowing blessings, amazing in their perfect match -- perfect in pitch, tone and note -- to a person's deepest need (like a tiny baby girl I know, born today! Joy!). He knows us. He wants us to know Him. Does that blow the mind, or what?

Starstruck

There is a day, in late October, when the sidewalk in front of my house becomes a yellow brick road. When characters from my favorite books step from their pages and knock on my front door, asking for treats. I am starstruck and want to ask for their autographs, but they play it off, their existence just an ordinary miracle of Fall. They are apparently accustomed to adoration and the flash and crush of the papparazzi. I want to ask one what it feels like to be the smartest witch at Hogwarts. I'd like to know from the other what went through her mind when that Lion began to cry. But these are personal questions, and I've only just met them. I guess they just want to be normal children, with everyday lives like everyone else. At least that's what they say when they are interviewed by Diane Sawyer on GMA. I never really believe them when they say that, but that's just me.

Instead, I just watch them move on to the next house and wonder what it would be like to be them....

Take a Picture. It Lasts Longer.

I had a really great moment the other night where I could feel the flow of things. Everything felt structured, ordered and organized. Everything was happening just as I had planned, I was prepared for what was to come and peace reigned throughout the land. Lasted for about five minutes, but still. It was something. I once read that everything in our lives is constantly moving toward chaos. In a fallen world, even our bodies betray us by falling apart a little every day. Which makes perfect sense when you think about it. That's why it's so difficult to maintain a home, when the universe is insisting that evil weeds, dirty laundry and messy cabinets become eviler, dirtier and messier as I am sitting here writing this. And it's why it's so difficult to maintain our health, our relationships, our schedules, our careers. The Chaos Theory. You can just FEEL things getting away from you, a little at a time. Is it just me?

Did you watch The Office last night? Jim and Pam got married, and it was just the sweetest wedding...I'm thinking about the moment in the car when Pam told Jim she had been advised to take "mental pictures" of important moments during the wedding because it goes by so fast. And it's true, isn't it? Actual photos are great but can't always capture the feeling that went along with the moment. Plus you never have your camera on you when the really good stuff happens. Life is unpredictable that way. Pam spent the weekend taking mental pictures with her imaginary camera, and it was so precious. I am going to do that more often. Because I do feel the important moments slipping out of my memory, like precious water, as I toil to hold back the chaos flood.

Here were my mental pictures this week...I try to write them down if I'm near a pen. This week, while driving in the car, I wrote the following on the back of a flyer from school:

Foots asleep dotty. good comics - apple jacket. Dec 5 signup gym. hypnotizer/appetizer.

Now some of that, I must admit, I have no idea what it means. But this is what I remember. Small Fry saying she was shaking her foot in the back seat because it was "all dotty." Which means it had fallen asleep, and she was deliciously describing the pins and needles feeling. I think the hypnotizer/appetizer has to do with our recent vigorous use of hand sanitizer. (Swine flu, you know.) Small Fry is either washing with hand hypnotizer or a hand appetizer. She herself is not sure which, but it's definitely one of those. The apple jacket, well ... I just have no idea. Oh yes, and I need to write December 5 down on my calendar. Registration for gymnastics.

Click.

In Praise of Self-Centeredness

Great post....

http://segullah.org/cjane-speaks/the-art-of-self-centeredness-in-motherhood/

Dream, Dream, Dream

There is a place I'm dreaming of.

At the end of this dock.

A place where the sun sets. Quietly, but with maximum impact.

And the moon rises. Silently, but with a beauty that steals your breath a little. And reminds you of the thing you already knew. I'm small. Very, very small.

This is a place where no one can find you. Unless you want them to. Family, best friends, birds, oysters, fish, Bobs and Bobalinas: Yes. Telephone sales hasslers, time/money/happiness suckers, uncertain workplaces, CNN and Fox News: No.

We could just hop on here and sail away, couldn't we? Why not?

We'd have everything we need. Room and board. Sky and sea.

We could eat these for dinner every night.

Or these.






I even have children and a FisherMan who are good at catching these. I'll bait all the hooks, promise. The bounty of the waters would feed us. The bounty of our hearts would nourish us. We'd be set. At least for a little while. And if we needed some Land R&R, a little cee-vah-lized company?

It's all good.

But I'd want to get back to this. ASAP. Road trip? Anyone? Anyone?

Stormy Weather

There's been a storm brewing in our house. Transitions, changes...we don't deal well. Small Fry is utterly grumpy, and Big Stuff has had it. I can just see her seething quietly about how this cocky little upstart sister of hers thinks she knows everything now just because she's at MY school, on MY bus, talking trash with MY friends. She's tries to be patient, but she simply cannot let an incorrect math fact or incomplete recitation of vowels pass uncommented upon. It just burns her up. And for her part, Small Fry has taken on a new arrogance that is breathtaking in its scope and fury. This morning, I ruined her day completely when I disagreed with her that Daddy got her up late (I think because it was still dark outside, although the time, of course, was 6:45 on the nose, just like every other day. Explaining why it was getting darker in the mornings was beyond me, prior to coffee. And probably still, after coffee). She also now notices tone of voice. Patronizing will not do. She needs to understand. Or rather YOU need to understand her. It's tiring.

They still find ways to relate though. I felt that I might laugh uncontrollably two days ago when they came downstairs to perform the "Dog Show" for us. This consisted of Small Fry following Big Stuff, on a leash mind you, and performing various tricks and doggy behaviors on command and without benefit of human voice to argue or propose changes. The show ended with the "amazing doggy headstand" in which Yogurt the dog happily stood on her head for unending minutes while doing various yoga poses in the air. I can't even properly explain to you how cute/hilarious/absurd this was. Big Sister Gets Her Revenge In the End. Never fails.

Firsts. And Lasts.

Well, it happened. The baby started kindergarten. And I'm still alive. I wasn't so sure I would make it through the first day, but there were small graces. Like a donut party and pictures and sweet traditions at the bus stop. Like furtive hugs and hand squeezes when the kids weren't looking. Like coffee and breakfast and laughs with those who understand and empathize and who don't ask what you're going to do to fill your days now. As if. And like bright smiles from two girls who bound off the bus after the first day saying things like - It was GREAT! My teacher is PERFECT! I had the BEST day! And suddenly everything was OK again. I won't say I'm not still grieving. It is a transition, after all, from baby days to big kid times and it's not easy. I search for the baby that she was not so long ago (Big Stuff has been gone from Babyhood so long, I now have to refer to pictures to find my First Baby)....I listen carefully for it as she mimics the sassy conversations of the older girls and pretends to know things she has not yet grasped. I'm pained by little things, like how she refused to let me wipe her hands and face after breakfast. I wonder where mama's girl has gone. Then today, as I jump into her path on her way to lunch, I receive my prize. Joy, joy... as she grabs my neck and lets me carry her into the cafeteria...sticky, smiling cheek pressed into mine and little hands tangled in my hair....And I thought, Ahhhhh, there she is. And I get to have her for a little longer.