Our new Boiler!

I have a thousand things I want to write about. Not really sure why it is that you read this blog, so not sure what to share.

I will say that a lot of things have been happening around here. Progress with Noah, progress with the house, progress in my faith, and all sorts of crafting progress and cooking progress. (I was able to bake fresh bread again for the first time in seven months! I was up to making bread at least once a week, and then nothing. It felt good, and I'll post more about that later.)

This month we have been focusing on what we are thankful for. Creating a heart of Thanksgiving in remembering that God is the giver of all good things.

Yes I have much to be thankful for, but I'm not gonna lie, there is a huge thing that I can't let go of.

Our new boiler.

My family has been on energy assistance for the last couple of years. We are a one income family where our income hasn't changed in four years but the size of our family has. Our home was built in 1920 and we still had the original boiler. In the last couple years we have had some issues with the pilot light going out and it having a hard time starting after the summer months, but all the boiler men said the same thing, "Steam boilers last forever."

Paul and I know that we don't want to live in this house forever. We still dream of our red brick farm house with land to run around on, a barn for art and music and a garden big enough to support us. We hope this isn't the place we end up, but try to find the contentment to survive without disappointment.

Understanding the way the economy is, we both kind of knew that replacing the boiler was going to be a must to sell the house. Why would someone buy our home looking at this beast knowing they would need to replace it, when they can find a house very similar to ours, or five, with better updates.

We had gotten an estimate before and knew that to replace the original boiler, it would cost over $7,000, and potentially $10,000. There was NO way we could do this, and yet, we knew we should start saving.

Then, after the tornado, I was chatting with a neighbor and we were talking about window's and government programs and the updates on our homes, etc. She mentioned they had just gotten their furnace replaced through energy assistance. Two weeks later, they had a repair man out, and she sent him to my house. After that it only took a few consultations, a couple months and due to a leak on the boiler, they replaced it!

We got our boiler replaced! It was this side conversation that happened because of the tornado and now Paul and I look at this HUGE gift. A $10,000 repair to our home. Our old boiler worked at 20% efficiency and our new one functions at 80%.

Here is our old boiler. Scary right?


Here is all the space we gained when they hauled it out! It was a very big exciting day.


Here is our new boiler doing amazing work to heat our house! Lots of piping coming out which kind of makes it look like its going to brew beer but, hey, it's new and shiny and new. Did I say new?


So, almost every day, my heart swells to full capacity. Something I only dreamed of happening has happened. Something that helps my little family right now, (our heating bills in the winter for an old house with drafty windows and antique boiler was reaching $400 per month!) and will help us drastically when we are ready to sell. (Maybe its a sign of being old that I dreamt of getting a new boiler!)

Anyway, I don't want to live on assistance, but this year we have needed it and I feel so blessed by the ways that is giving us a foot up in our situation. I know you aren't really supposed to talk about money, not in real figures, but I had to in truth so that the weight of this gift would be truly felt. It's huge!

Mmmmm....I am sitting on my comfy couch, snuggled up and drinking a warm beverage while my new boiler keeps my kids warm as they sleep.

We have been blessed indeed.

The telling truth of our ups and downs

Two weeks ago I shared with you some words that God had given to me in my prayer and journal time. I was thankful to see where my weakness was and where sin stilled remained that I didn’t see before. It may sound strange, but I felt so stagnant in my faith that even this was movement. I was finally reaching, searching, wanting, asking for more. Revealing these things allowed me to lay down more of my stuff and see into my bad habits and coping methods to stress and chaos.

This last year has been a tough one for me. Only now am I able to start dissecting all of it. All lot of wisdom can come from hindsight. After my incredible weekend a few weeks ago, I felt revived, and humbled at the moments God gave me. I came home and had an onslaught of tasks, cranky kids, schedules to be managed, commitments to be met, bills to be paid, contractors coming and not coming to work, a new boiler getting put in, and more weekend retreats to prepare for. I didn’t share all that I had experienced with my family because coming home felt like getting down to business.

In this I watched as I let my soul become the stomping grounds to a major spiritual war. Godly things were revealed to me. I could see and hear and understand and was willing to make these small changes in my life because I knew that they would be good for me. I was ready to trust God in the deeper places of my heart and relationships.

When we are poised for spiritual growth, when we are taking risks in our lives and hearts to trust God to be enough for us and we say yes to him, I do believe we need to be aware of the enemy who is striving for our soul. These moments of growth, these moments in our lives, relationships, and ministry where godly things are happening, set the stage for the enemy to attack. Satan does not want growth. The father of lies does not want truth in our ears and hearts. He has no hold on us when we trust the Father, and so he will fight to keep us locked in.

I allowed that to happen to myself for the couple weeks after my incredible weekend. I didn’t see it then, but I see it for what is was now.

This weekend surpassed my weekend previously. I am aware now though of what lies ahead of me when returning home, and instead of turning into my old bad habits of coping with life, I will choose as much as possible to pray, to fight, and to read scripture to pour into my heart the wisdom of God.

It’s hard to do that in the daily grind of life, so if you could, please offer a prayer for me and all those that were at the district gathering in Indy this weekend. My greatest desire is that those high school students would find the courage to fight off temptation and grab hold of all that God has for them.

Thankful Tree

So when you look around craft sites or pinterest you will discover dozens of beautiful, artsy, decorative, mature ways to help your children discover being thankful for the month of Nov.

Well, every year, we as a family usually just write what we are thankful for on a leaf that I previously cut out and then we hang them from our fireplace. On Dec. 1 we usually take them down and then I keep them in a box to look at the next year. We put them in a jar and then read them the next Nov.

I always liked this idea until I realized I had to not only cut out leaves but then also hang string, cut string and tie up each leaf. It seemed really high maintenance to me all of a sudden.

This year I decided to cut out a tree with branches and then we can just tape up the leaves after we discuss what we want to thank God for that day. I am trying to find ways to streamline my life more each day and only do the important things, whether they be big or small.

Well, here is our tree.



As you can see it's not just a tree anymore. What I love about my kids is how much they LOVE arts and crafts. When we were preparing for the Thankful leaves again this year, the kids decided they wanted to help "create the scene". So while I cut out the trunk of the tree, the kids were busy cutting out the grass, the sun, the clouds and moon and stars. Every tree should have have these things around them right?



I would like to point out the absolutely perfect star at the top. Yea, that is my best work. The boys called it our wishing star because it was pefect. Maybe I should make a career out of this.


After we cut everything out, Little just ripped a bunch of paper and threw it all over the floor, but she was trying to be helpful, we went to work tapping everything up. This is also part of the project that I let the boys do. It was their idea, so they can put the stuff wherever they wanted. In the meantime, I read about five different verses on being thankful and this is the one they choose.



"So then just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, being rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith you were taught and overflowing with Thankfulness." Col. 2:6-7

They told me the reason they picked this verse was because,

"It says rooted and trees have roots!"
"It says faith is taught and you teach us!"
"We are being thankful and the verse to be thankful."
"We have Jesus in our hearts."

It was fun to have this moment with my kids. I LOVE beautiful and artsy and creative projects. Martha Stewart even.

But my kids got to make this make project with me. It wasn't me who took time to do it in the evening and then presented to them. We did it as a family and got the chance to talk about our faith and giving thanks to God in the midst of family fun.

So, it's not very pretty to the outside world, but its beautiful to me. Our Thankful tree.



(What I love the most is that on the second day, Big was thankful that all our friends in Haiti were safe after the earthquake. That reached down and grabbed my heart.)

Cheers to all of us learning to give God thanks in all situations, good and bad.

Living in extreme's

It's funny, this weekend revealed to me how much my life is lived in extremes.

I left a house partly under construction, toys and laundry and dishes brimming. My kids were loudly playing batman and the regular chaos was well underway. I arrived to a pristine upper class hotel that was quiet, clean, and WAY too quiet.

I have over 100 hundred questions hurled at me a minute in my house. My daughter trying to keep up, just keeps yelling, "Mama, mama, mama! Um.... Mama, mama, mama! Um...." I sat in the car in complete silence for five hours while I drove to WI. (OK, I drove in silence for awhile, but then had hours of listening to a book on CD without engaging with anyone. I talked to no one and no one needed me for FIVE HOURS!)

I can't get my kids to listen to a word I say it feels most days. At the event I went to this weekend, I had a kid come up to me and tell me he wrote down one of my quotes and it still hangs on his wall to help inspire him. Crazy right!?

I wear my sweats most days dreaming of a shower. I put on jewelery and took a half hour shower while away each day.

There are bars on most of the window's of the stores and apartment building's where I live. Boards grace people's window's, mattress lie around in the alley, and there is graffiti scattered throughout. I arrived downtown Appleton to this gorgeous hotel that I could never afford on my own. Most of the time I don't feel I belong in either place.

It felt like whip lash this weekend. Everything about my time away this weekend was different than my normal life, but speaking is part of my life.

Loud to quiet.
Unappreciated to overly praised.
Unseen to the center of the spotlight.
Scrubby to dolled up.
Craving peace and quiet to needing noise.
Feeling claustrophobic to feeling lonely.

I wish there was some way to find a balance to these extremes of my life, but in the meantime, I will just try to cherish each place I find myself, knowing that it won't be there for long and will change again soon.

Things I love...

* Having family come and visit and deepening relationships
* Beautiful days full of sunshine, sunglasses, scarves, and flip flops
* Sharing experiences with my kids that involve pumpkins, racing, and picnics
* Shrimp stir fry
* Bonfires
* Someone doing my dishes
* Someone making my coffee
* Someone making me a drink
* Dates with my husband
* New adventures on my date
* Family snuggle time
* Watching my kids carve their first pumpkins
* Eating pumpkin seeds for the first time of the season
* Time with my Aunt Carol and Aunt Barb, two women who I grew up admiring and loving and watching them love my kids and my kids fall in love with them.
* Middles obsession with collections and small puppies
* Baking with my kids
* Finding recipes that work with our diet so we don't have to sacrifice tradition
* Sleep
* The warmth and smell of fresh clean sheets
* Watching my middle son's love of homeless people, experiencing his choice to introduce himself and find out who they are
* Special time with middle grocery shopping
* Holding hands with my husband
* Giggling with my kids
* Reading stories with my kids
* Praying with my kids
* Conversations with big when he is not under the influence
* Big's tender heart and compassion
* Little's silly dances
* Little's five dimples

This weekend, I was reminded of why I love my Aunt's so much.
This weekend, I fell in love with my kids a little bit more.
This weekend, my heart opened for my husband even more.

It was a good weekend, filled with so many things I love.

(One thing I don't love? Teething. Colds. Buggers. Poop. Crying. There was a lot of that this weekend too.)

Fullfillment

I haven't been out speaking in about six months.

It's been a long time, and I have been able to tell. However, God knew exactly what my life would become and I believe it was intentional. There was no space in my life, my head, or my heart to be a leader to others. To inspire others. To even put normal clothes for others. It wasn't my time.

This past weekend I got to go away to MO to a camp and retreat I have spoken at before. I fly into KC and then drive for three hours down to camp. This not only provided an opportunity to do what I love, but to also reconnect, refresh, and unwind my soul.

I decided to only bring my bible, Thomas Merton's, "No man is an Island" and "The Shack" as reading material. I was hoping, planning, and expecting to get some good time talking and listening and reconnecting with God. My daily life provides a whirlwind of activity and constant cry's out to God, but this was going to be long winded and dedicated time. I was excited and nervous, as I always am when I try to listen as God speaks. He usually has love to pour on me, but I haven't ever come away from time listening to God where I haven't seen some place in my life that could change for the better.

This is what I learned this weekend.

I have noticed how often I pray for wisdom. I pray for myself, my Paul and I as parents and I especially pray it over my children. I want them to be wise in their choices and living. As I was reading scripture in my cabin, I realized while praying over what I was reading that as much as I ask God for wisdom, I am not searching his word for it. When I read scripture most often it is for praise or encouragement or just to read anything to get his word in my heart. I don't intentionally seek it and search it for wisdom. It seems kind of elementary, but God revealed to me that he wants to speak wisdom into my heart and into my parenting, but I need to be reading and searching for his wisdom.

Lesson learned. God was kind as he showed me my missing piece to this puzzle.

The second thing was how often I pray for myself or my issues. This came about in two parts. First, that it would be good to pray not only for myself and my family but for all of those who I love and even those I don't know. I need to be pulled out of my own little life and remember so many others who need to be lifted up in prayer.

The other piece of this is that I often struggle alone, talk to God alone and pray alone over my issues. This leaves out my partner and best friend. After I have struggled with an issue and God has helped point me to an answer, that is when I inform my husband. He usually gets taken off guard and it's hard for him to catch up. I want to remember and need to include in my struggles. But more than that, I want to invite him in the prayer process with me. When we pray, it is most often just for our children and daily strength. I want to pray over things that God is doing in my heart, open our conversation to see what he is doing in our marriage, and if one of us is being led in a specific way, that God would keep us united in that process.

I can't just assume that what God has told me, he has told my husband, unless we are talking and praying together.

Two fundamental foundational practices, but I had forgotten. Time away this weekend, provided the opportunity to reconnect with the basics, and fall in love with the Lord all over again. I mean this in a way of spending quality time with someone, not just frantic, crazed, cry out for help kind of way, even though that is still good, it's not the same.

God has a way of providing what we need to keep taking the next step. One step at a time.

Moments make a difference

Most days I can look around and you would have no idea what I had accomplished. OK, most days I look around and I don't even know what I accomplished. I think most of us can say that.

When we measure life by what we accomplish than we will forever be disappointed, depressed, and unsatisfied with life.

Does what I say really matter?
Is what I am doing really making a difference?
Am I contributing anything to the betterment of mankind and the earth that God created and entrusted us with?
What am I doing with my life?
Does anyone see me? Does anyone hear me?

Almost exactly one year ago my husband and I were on Mackinaw Island with my parents at an adult retreat. They host this retreat once every three years and we get to stay in the grand hotel, and it is MARVELOUS! I spend three days digging out all my fun clothes, accessories, and jewelry that doesn't fit in my normal life, and I let it live in the fantasy of fancy. It's lovely, and romantic, and refreshing. (Paul just looked at me today and said, do we get to go back next year? No honey, two more years, but I feel the same way!)

Last year we took a bike ride around the island. Here's my folks.



And here's Paul and I. Yes we are on a tandem bike, its the romantic thing to do. (And lazy thing to do for the person on the back. Yea, that's me. I'm no fool, but the view is nice.)



On our way around the island, which is an 8.2 mile ride, we were talking, laughing and enjoying each others company. Then each of us individually were noticing these rock statues.



I remember seeing my first one, and thinking, "that's fun. Someone created a fun statue and its still standing."

Then we saw another one.



Which lead to dozens more.



It was beautiful. We all felt the same thing and stopped to take it in. For more than two miles the statues just kept showing up. Then we saw some folks building their own. Paul decided to do one too.



Some folks built their own. Others were adding to what previous artists started. They were continuing the project.

I don't know who started the rock project, but here is a small look at where it went and where it is going.



The horizon is filled and scattered with one idea transformed into hundreds of interpretations. I don't know if one person or one group of people started the rock project, but in its idea and execution, it inspired others to participate.

To move.
To act.
To add.
To create.
To be apart of something.

Mile after mile we saw these rock creations. Dozens turned into hundreds and then we stopped counting. We built our own. We added to others. We watched others stop in awe, take photo's. We listened as others talked about it. We witnessed dozens of others be moved to create their own. To be apart of the project.

To be apart of the idea, with their own creativity put in.

I'm not sure that the original creator(S) thought this would catch on as it has. Rumor has it (according to the web) that the rock project also exists on the east coast and in other countries along their coast.

One idea.
One action.
One creative moment.

It's turned into island wide project, that went global.

I give and give and give. I pour out into my children and youth groups. I try my hardest to be there for friends in need. I talk and talk and talk, and wonder, truly if any of it matters.

I, like you, have no idea where my words and actions land. I can't control what memories of me my children will choose to hold onto. I have had people repeat my own words to me, and nothing is scarier to me than that. Hearing from them, what they gained of what I said or did.

We are creatures that pour out ourselves into others to strengthen life, but most often we have no idea about the effect of our pouring out. What result does it provide? Did it do anything?

A life is filled with small moments. The moments that make up the whole of our life. I think often times I am weighed down by the grand gestures, or looking at someones whole life instead of the moments that lead them there. This is how ridiculous it is. I saw the movie, "Social Network" and was struck by how one person changed the course of history. I thought, what I am doing with my life? I think of Mother Theresa whom I admire with the depth of my soul, and think, can I love and live like that? What about all my friends who travel the width of the world and are giving up everything to love and serve those in need. I see all these great and grand lives and I feel small. I wonder if what I do matters at all.

But I think of this huge art structure and how one person inspired hundreds by one moment.

This is the truth that we need to hold on to. It isn't in the grand scheme of life, but in the moments that make up our life. Those are the moments that inspire and change the course of history. When I pour out into the people around me, I will most likely never know what effect I had on their life. I will not know how God uses me to help, love, inspire, change others. Just as I can think of dozens of things others have said to me that have influenced my life, and they don't know that.

If I live for the grand idea of the whole of life, I will miss the moments I live in every day. The moments where I hold my kids tighter. When I can sit on my stoop and then neighbors start gathering and we start talking about life and faith. When my kids want to give money and pray for the homeless man on the street. When I pray over my children. When I talk to customer service and we have a nice chat and we both feel blessed by it. (not usually the case) When I can weep and share my burden with my mom and her encouragement and listening ear is when I can feel God sharing life with me.

I may not get to Haiti this year. Even putting that our there, I want to take it back. I am starting to cry already. Going to Haiti each year feels grand to me, and when I feel sad a little depressed about it, I have to remember, that I can serve, love, and pour into anyone and all people. They don't need to be half way around the world.

The important thing to remember is that we must pour out. To give. To love. To listen. To invest.

I believe compassion is mercy without judgement. Getting to know someone. Loving them for the sake of love and letting God take care of the rest.

Make your moments count.

You never know when loving someone catches on. When listening to someone becomes all the rage instead of giving advice, give your ear. Give your heart even if its scary. Give your honesty to yourself and be free from expectations that only you hold to yourself. Give your life to Christ and find the fulfillment of loosing yourself to one who loves you more than you thought possible.

To find this truth, one must pour out and live in the moment.



When we add up all the little things of life into the whole of life, that is when the picture becomes complete. We see all that our moments of our lives have made a difference.

Be encouraged today that God is working through you whether you believe in him or not, he believes in you.


God is in each moment.

Life Lessons with Middle

Sometimes I think I have this idea in my head about what time with God would look like. Time where he teaches me, calms me, reminds me of his power. Time to talk with him and time to listen.

Ideally, this time would be when I am alone, the space around me is quiet and I can concentrate. I would also have have a book of inspiration, the Bible, and my journal.

Lately, when I think about my conversations and times of learning from God, none of these things are present. I'm not even alone.

What I have learned in the last two weeks is that if we are paying attention, we will notice that most of the time, these ideals won't be our reality. We just need to be present with our minds open, our hearts attune, and our ears listening, with our eyes keeping watch. God is ever present and always speaking.

Since Big has been in school, I have had lots of time with middle in the car. Without Big to share the conversation with, middle has my undivided attention to ask all the questions rolling around in his brain. And as all four year olds do, the questions are never ending and always completely random to the adult ear.

In the last two weeks middle has developed a thirst for theology and all questions relating to God and his power. Cement trucks, car engines, stores, money, food, poor people, superhero's, his questions all start somewhere in here and end up in the Bible. Here is what we have been discussing;

Why is a cement truck always moving?
What does a solid mean?
What does a liquid mean?
How does a car get liquid gas and turn it into a vapor that comes out the back?
If its like magic than it is more powerful than God?
Why didn't the disciples just go to the store when they were hungry?
If we are like the disciples and we go to the store, why didn't they? And if God can make a lot of food with a miracle why doesn't he just always do that?
When that guy in the Bible went up to heaven in the Chariot, God wasn't with him, and you said God is always with us. We should draw a picture of God in our Bible so we know he is always there.
Are engines hot?
Why don't we pour water into our cars to cool them off?
If we are going down hill, why aren't we moving? (while we are stopped at the light)
What moves the car, the wheel, the pedal or the tires?
Can clouds move through anything?
If things go through clouds than why didn't Jesus fall through the clouds when he went up into heaven?
Why can't we reach the end of the rainbow?
If I was bigger than Noah would I be older than him?

(And this is just a small taste of what I get. I didn't include my answers because frankly that would take way too much time. My husband and I have the unfortunate ability to answer our children with very adult answers which just brings on more questions. But we love their curiosity and don't ever want it to go away.)

The thing about all these questions is that it has revealed to me things I knew but didn't realize I really knew. Ever do that? Not ponder how liquid becomes a gas, but then when questioned about, you realize you know how its done? This has been what it's like with middle. His questions range from the deep to the wide, and I am surprised by my limited knowledge that I don't ever explore.

But there is also the faith issue. The theology, the understanding, the belief in something that I go weeks, or months, or years without pondering, and then when questioned, I have to answer. I have to think about what is it that I believe. If I don't have an answer, it challenges me to think about it, to truly develop an opinion about what I am about to say.

What is my belief about people being inherently good or evil?
Do I describe people as good or bad, or just people who make good or bad choices?
How does God make grass grow?
Why if God can feed the 5,000 with a miracle can't he feed the homeless person?
Why is it so hard to make good choices?
Why doesn't Jesus fall through the clouds when he flies up to heaven?
If God is always present, why isn't he painted in all the pictures of the Bible?
How can God be in my heart and up in the sky? How can he be in all places at one time?
Do I really believe that God is all powerful?
If God is really bigger than the boogy man then why do I get scared?
Why did Jesus have to die on the cross?
What kind of bodies will we get in heaven? Is it our baby bodies or our old bodies?

You know what's hard about having and not having answers to these questions? (and yes these are all questions that I received from my son these past two weeks in the car, or his questions have lead to me to ask the questions above myself.)

The answer to these questions don't just shape my life, my faith, my journey, they are also shaping the highly influential lives of my kids. My answers shape their understanding of God and who he is, who they are, and what life is about and how they exist in it. That task feels overwhelming and exciting.

The exciting part is watching how God uses my son to help teach me, challenge me, and encourage me in my faith, all the while to also shape his. If there are good guys and bad guys and life is that black and white, than which one am I? Can I switch teams, or am I always good or bad? (PLEASE don't let that be true, because I'm pretty sure I would exist on the bad guy team. It's just in my nature.)

So here I am everyday in the car, waiting for my time with the Lord. Waiting for him to teach me, challenge me and make me think about and own my faith. Two days ago, we picked Big up from school and had to head down to the energy assistance office in south Mpls. After that we headed to uptown because we needed some items from the Co-op. On our way out of the store, there was a homeless man standing on the corner with his cardboard sign. Middle begged me to give him a dollar so he could give it to him. Middle rolled down his window and gave the man two dollars and introduced himself. That's when we met Kurt.

Driving away, I suggested that we pray for Kurt. In our prayer we discussed that we didn't know Kurt situation and we hoped that someone who had more could come and help him. We prayed that through all the circumstances in Kurt's life, he would see God's hand guiding him and that he would never feel alone. We prayed that we would see Kurt again in Heaven. When the prayer was over, middle suggested that we should have invited Kurt home with us because he had more money in bank and he wanted to give it to Kurt to help him. I told middle it was a really great idea, but that it wasn't safe to invite people into our homes that we don't know.

Middle's response?

"Mom, if we invited home with us, we could get to know him and then he would be our friend. If we get to know him, he won't be a stranger anymore."

Mmmm....and there was the truth.

If we would only get to know him. Her. Them. Whoever it is that we keep at a distance.

After that, middle asked that when we don't have anymore money, could we stand on the corner and draw a cardboard sign? He was excited to work on his letters.

Hmmmm... Not sure how dad or papa will feel about that. Clearly we still have some work to do. I did mention to middle that we were blessed to have friends and family who help us when we are struggling. Which then threw us into another conversation about Kurt and how alone he was. We prayed again. Middle couldn't give up on the idea of giving Kurt more money, but then wisely noted, "But mom, if we give Kurt all our money we won't have any. We still need money too right mom? To buy toys?"

Close. Or food. We would use it on food.

I was touched by son's heart. A heart of compassion. A heart free of judgement. A heart willing to see what God would and could do if people stopped to get to know one another.

I love my afternoons with my son and with my creator God who can bring his truth into all avenues of my life, even when I sleep through our appointed time.

Don't get me wrong, I think appointed times are critical, crucial, effective, helpful, and full of blessings and wisdom. However, life happens sometimes and we can't ever assume that just because we didn't show up, God won't. He'll show up whenever he wants, and mostly when he knows we need it.

Milk, school and crazy

Big's first week of school he came home so excited that his school offered Rice Milk. He loved that he could have milk with his friends.

Mom sense 1 went off. *weird that a school offers rice milk, huh, but it's a trend setting school in the city where all sorts of opportunities are offered. Maybe it is true.

Big was really sensitive about not getting enough play time after he came home from school. He was really whiny! Really, really, whiny. He would throw a fit and say he hated that he didn't have enough time to play.

Mom sense 2 went off. *Completely understandable watching my son adjust to his new schedule, and he doesn't have as much time play, but man is he whinny. Really, really whinny.

Big took a shower and I came to inspect the job not done. His hair was clearly not washed and I asked him to rewash it. He yelled at me that he wasn't lying and why don't I ever believe him. I'm so rude to not believe him when he is telling the truth. He was so upset it drove him to yells and tears. He wouldn't rewash his hair, so I did it for him. We had a not so nice moment, and I was frustrated by his response.

Mom sense 3 went off. *Being a person who struggled with lying before, I get how frustrating it is to tell someone something and have them not believe you because you past has influenced the present. It's frustrating and the consequence to one very bad choice of sins to commit. I get it. But tears? Really? When you get to play in the water some more, you really have to cry over that? It felt a little too much to me and there was no distracting him in it.

For a whole week Big was really struggling with the morning get ready check list and his responsiblities after school. Very easy, normal kid things. However, when I would remind him of his responsiblities of emptying out his backpack, putting his lunch bag away, taking off his uniform, he was distant, frustrated and had his walls up. He told me being home was no fun and he didn't like responsiblities, even though I have seen him thrive doing it at school.

Mom sense 4 went off. *Everything was starting to feel broken. Adjusting to a new schedule, dad has a new job, life has changed and we are starting to realize that its for good, but all this disconnect felt wrong. I understand that my children have their own life, needs, desires, joys, hurts, but I didn't feel like our relationship should be so strained so early as we navigate being a bigger more responsible kid as a kindergardener.

Then I volunteered to read for Big's class two weeks ago in the morning during teacher prep time. I watched my son put a clothes pin in his pocket on the board. I asked the music teacher what that meant. She explained to me that one pin was for hot lunch and one was for milk. I told her we didn't do any, so he shouldn't be putting a pin in his slot. She told me that if the pin was there, he would recieve it and our account would be charged. There was some more conversation about it and I was left slightly confused. I emailed the teacher, who only speaks Chinese in front of the students so email is the only way to communicate. I asked her to explain the system to me, and told her that beyond Big bringing his own snack, he couldn't have milk. It makes him sick.

*Yes I do define being emotionally and mentally out of control as being sick. His body can't handle it. It makes him crazy and steals our son replacing him with someone else.

The teacher than explained to me that at snack time they always offer milk, and Big has always raised his hand, so he has recieved it. For two and half weeks, he has had a glass of milk every day.

Ahhhhhhh.....and that explains alot.

I remember one morning specifically, I was taking Big to school and we had a fight. I hate fighting, even more fighting and then taking my son to school to be with other people for the whole day. I was loosing my day to make it right. To have good time with him and repair what was broken. And it was broken. There was yelling, words exchanged that shouldn't be on both ends. Frustration, hurt and pain was our morning, and now I was saying goodbye for the day. He would be left with brokeness for the day instead of love and encouragement.

Oh how I hated this! It felt so wrong and I didn't know what to do. In the evenings when we had time together, there would be good moments, but mostly he was just frustrated by all he had to do, or we were never doing the thing he wanted and so he was upset. Everything started to feel like a battle again. Every word, every action, every activity, every direction. All of it felt hard.

I talked to Big and his teacher and explained that he couldn't have milk. I told Big that his teacher didn't understand anything about Rice milk and I would send some to school with him, but he can't have the school's milk. I had all the players in the game on board now.

It took one week to get it out of his system. Then we had this weekend. My son woke up and offered to help make breakfast. I only asked once for him to get dressed. The shower senerio repeated itself and even though he was annoyed with me for the hair issue, I suggested that we experiment. If he rewashes his hair we'll see if it smells like shampoo and if it does that we know he didn't wash it before. I told him I'll sing the ABC's and when I'm done he can be done. He looked at me, said he was annoyed and then said, I can beat you before you're done. The challenge was on. This felt good. This felt right. This felt like my son. He could communicate what he was thinking. He could be annoyed but still play a game with me.

And there was no fight.

There was no challenge.

It was not hard.

I'm not saying that he is perfect. FAR from it. He is still emotional. He is still independant and has hard time focusing on projects he doesn't want to do. He is a normal kid with his own thoughts and emotions.

However, I still can't believe how much food affects him and his behavior. I can't believe how much it breaks us. How it keeps Big from being himself.

For about two weeks, one week for sure, our whole system felt broken. It felt off, and way to hard, but mostly just broken.

Once we knew he had milk and we fixed it, I just kept thinking about all the families who live in this broken place. A place where everything is hard. At every turn you are faced with a challenge. Being with your child is no longer a joy. You start to blame yourself for all thier outbursts, or worse, you start to blame them. A place where the only times you have together are difficult ones and it broke my heart.

I now stand as a big believer that the food we eat has drastically changed and in my very humble opionion it is effecting not just us but especially our next generation. I struggle with my anger and frustration at the food industry for all the way they changed the things we put in our body. You tell me why sugar needs to be in lunch meat? Tell me why yogurt needs to be neon bright?

I'll table this for now, but one of my greatest heartaches right now is watching children and families living in brokeness due to the food that we consume. The anger, guilt, shame, frustration, disappointement that is happeneing because children are being imprisioned by the food they eat.

My greatest joy though is watching moms facing this choice and choosing to try eating allergen free and experiencing thier kids being freed from thier prison. It is hard to do, but I can't stress enough....

It is so, so, so, so, so, so, so, worth it. (did I get enough so's in there? I hope so.)

*Let's throw a disclaimer in there for good measure. I understand with my whole heart that there are other real issues that can effect kids and families. That life circumstances still highly effect families even on a healthy diet. I understand that kids, and adults, can't respond in a healthy way every time something frustrating happens. What I am saying is that I think what we eat and put in our bodies deserves a credible place in the solution to solving all the brokeness. It is ligitimate and a very real thing to change your diet to effect your mood and happiness.

Trust me.

Hello Concert Hall!

So this morning we received free tickets to Target's "introduce your kids to classical music" morning at the Ordway theater in St. Paul MN.

Here's us in front of the theater.



Here's what made this morning so fun and interesting;

1. We told the kids we were taking them to a kid concert at a theater. They instantly went to go get dressed up for the occasion. Middle decided that he would wear his play clothes UNDER his dress clothes so he can do a quick "costume" change after the concert. So look at the picture closely and you can see his jeans peeking out of the bottom of his pants. He wore two shirts, two pairs of pants, socks the whole bit. We had his play shoes in my purse.

2. The whole way to the theater, the kids kept asking if we could go up on stage. Was dad playing? Were there going to be space to run around? Do we clap along and can we dance? Clearly my kids are only used to one type of concert, so this was very good for them.

3.The kids sat through the whole concert! Little made it almost to the end. I only missed five minutes and I thought that was really impressive. The St. Paul Orchestra presented "Inside Mozart's piano" and they had an actor portraying Mozart and describing this one piece he wrote. He intertwined humor, a crazy laugh and described the music to the kids. The whole concert was 45 min and perfect for the kids to pay attention. It was really fun and Big kept asking all sorts of great music questions. Middle just kept taking off clothes because he was so warm. Go figure.

4. After the concert we played by the fountain. Here was the best picture we could muster of the kids.


Sadly I think shot is better.


If you notice the seat at the bottom of the fountain, the kids took 20 minutes to play on it. At one point there were other kids also walking around on it. I didn't see it happen, but all of a sudden Big was in the same spot as some other kids and he was going to fall into the fountain, so he lept to the higher ring on the fountain. I was sincerely impressed with his jump, even though in the end he did end up in the water. Water up to his calves. We all laughed and the other dad helped him out.

It was a fun morning listening to Mozart, getting all dressed up and venturing into the city. Playing at the park a little and home for a tasty lunch.

At this point I can probably take Big to the orchestra when he is older, but my other two have no interest. Way to boring according to the peanut gallery.

Fun fall day

It started in college. A whole day off during the best season of the year soaking in all the goodness of life. Leaves crunching under your feet with the wind starting to chill and blow at your back. Picking apples off the trees and devouring raspberries. Celebrating the art of baking and creating food from scratch by spending the afternoon in the kitchen and then sitting down with friends to enjoy the spoils of your labor. An all day event celebrating life, friendship, inspiration, and love.

I love fall, like so many others. This past Saturday we celebrated once more with friends with a harvest dinner after a morning of picking apples and raspberries.

our day is best described in photo's but I will disclaim that the best parts of the day were moments to be enjoyed, not worrying about capturing on camera. So there are photo's but they were taken quickly for the benefit of friends who couldn't join us and grandparents to see cute grand kids. If I were an artist, the pictures would be better, but alas, welcome to fun fall day.

***Side note for Laura. If you aren't Laura, than you can pass this paragraph and move forward. Or read on and share this intimate moment with me and my friend. Remember in college when my tooth was going to fall out and I couldn't bite into the apples that we were picking? You would find the perfect apple, bite into it and then give me the bite. We ate a handful of apples that way, and I believe we said, a true friend would eat your apple. This year, Big is missing two teeth and another one is loose. He couldn't bite into his apples, so I did for him what you did for me years ago. My soul always long to be near you this time of year more than normal, but you were especially close to me this year.

When we got to the orchard, we discovered a lot of fun can be had by building a tower out of tires.


Or just dirt. Yes he is saying he is king of the hill.



After we played, we picked raspberries. The fact that food grows on short bushes just her height was like a dream come true for my daughter who is ALWAYS hungry.


Then came the hay ride to the apples.




And the traditional godmother/godson photo on the hayride. Happens every year, and their just so cute.


Look mom, its perfect!


My daughter won't eat an apple at home, but she will off a tree. Guess I need to get an apple tree!


This photo seems a little out of place for her disposition for the day. Considering she was queen cranktastic, it's ironic we are both smiling as if we liked each other. Pretty sure she was mad at everything, even at this moment.


Then here is our attempt at a family photo. Paul and I doing our job, being ready for even slightest chance our children will comply and behave. Middle is hiding behind Paul, Big is the star of the show, and little is watching it all wondering how she got there. It's our best effort, which should tell you something.


After apple picking, comes crab apple ball. Find a large stick, find a sucker who will pitch to you, and practice your swing to see how many apples you can obliterate into tiny pieces.


The cheering section doesn't get any cuter or any more indifferent.


After a wonderful morning outside harvesting apples and raspberries, we went home where we greeted 30 friends with a harvest dinner. I was characteristically unprepared, but loved having all the company in the kitchen to prepare the soup feast. We had soup, summer squash, corn bread, veggies, fruit and enough wine and apple cider to serve an army. We threw blankets over tables and on the ground, put candles in mason jars and for the next five hours, just relaxed and enjoyed each other's company while the kids ran around.

I'll be honest a big part of the fun was being surrounded by all things homemade. Here are the boys pumpkins they made for centerpiece filling a little harvest basket.


Here is a look at the pumpkins I made from fabric that I picked out two years ago! I finally did it! I used to say I only sewed straight lines, but that is no longer the case.





Here is a small look at the food to be shared by all. Food brought by friends, and food prepared from our gardens. It was delicious!



Our yard may be small, and we may be surrounded by boarded up houses, but it didn't dampen anyone spirits! Fall harvest was still in the air.





The moms and babies gathered together!


My kids have a costume trunk filled with outfits to transform them and they love inviting their friends to dress up with them. I think it's just an excuse for them to dress up, though they never needed an excuse before. I think you can pick out two Iron Mans and spider man. No there are no girl options yet.



After supper, we moved the tables, hung the twinkle lanterns and started the bonfire.



While we enjoyed the bonfire, the kids played glowbowling. We took 10 small plastic bottles, filled them with water, added a bit of food coloring and dropped in a corridinating glow stick. The bottles glowed, and the kids bowled. They loved it! Look how cute these little ones are. Didn't capture a photo of them playing, we were too busy enjoying watching them.



They kids also entertained themselves with the bean bag toss. I took old scrap fabric and made some bean bags the night before and it was a huge success. They were competing with boxes, special squares on the quilt, bowls... you name it and they were trying to launch the bean bags into it for points. Here's the fun bean bags. I was pretty happy with how they turned out.



We used primarily real dishes instead of plastic to reduce our garbage waste.


(This is a SMALL taste of piles that also took over the other two counters in my kitchen along with empty wine bottles and cider containers.) That meant the clean up was monumental, but while I was sitting by the fire, my husband did an hour of dishes. While I was saying goodbye to friends, other friends put all our tables and decorations away in the garage, and the clean up was as much as an event as the preparation. We all came together to create and participate in fun fall day.

I remember sitting by the fire, looking around at the incredible people God has put in my life and I was overwhelmed with feeling thankful. It was a celebration day of God's beauty in life. Nature and people alike.

It was a good day.

A very good day.

Too quick to judge

Last night I took my two boys to volunteer at church while Families Moving Forward was there. If you know nothing of this ministry, FMF is an organization that takes a certain number of families and houses them in different churches each week to take care of their housing and meal needs. This allows families to focus on work and saving money. My job with my children was to play with the kids after dinner and help with homework.

We joined everyone at the tail end of dinner. This allowed my kids to play right of the bat, and I was able to visit with some of the parents. It was great getting to know of these parents and talking about how hard it is to provide for the needs of our kids. We talked about the major dysfunction in meal assistance and how harmful the food that is provided is to the body. We talked about our families special diet and the food that is offered to them. It was so enlightening to listen to these parents want more fresh fruit and veggies for their kids, and sometimes their only option is a pudding pack.

I spent a good portion of my meal time with a single dad named Jason, who incidentally is trying to move into a place two blocks from where we live. I'm not sure if I gained more points with him once he learned that. He looked rather surprised that we live in North. I say that because I believe his words were, "WOW, a white chick? You live in north? Get out?" I'm not sure I understand. The diversity is huge all around this city, white people included. But he was super excited to get the names of the programs that have helped us in the past in creating a safer and cleaner place for our kids to live. So there I was, helping at the homeless ministry sharing tips on government programs and how to find that helping hand when you need one.

After playing basketball with the kiddos, Mary, Jason's daughter who is in the second grade, asked me to help her with her homework. She was the star student for the week and she had to complete a poster that was all about her. There were questions like, "What is your favorite color? Favorite food? Who is in your family? Where do you live?"

Simple enough question right? Where do you live? Except if you are Mary or another 37% of grade school students and an even higher percentage of high school students, according to our local Camden neighborhood paper.

Where do you live?

Mary's answer was written without hesitation on her large poster board paper that will be displayed and highlighted to all the students in her grade and school.

CHURCH.

That's where Mary lives. She lives in a church. Her mattress is on a classroom floor shared by a handful of other people. The only other person in her family is her dad, who is trying his best to provide what he can for her.

If Mary has a nighttime routine with her dad reading to her, saying prayers, tucking her in, it is disrupted by other kids playing out in the gym. It's disrupted by the doubt and fear of what will happen next. She gets to stay at a church for one week, and then they move. Again.

Mary lives at church. And hopefully not for long, but she is only one of the dozen that were there yesterday. One of hundreds that live in the system just in our city.

I am not here to defend or protest the system, the programs the issues wrong with hand outs and hand ups. I am not staking my claim on either side of this issue.

What struck me was two things.

First, I'm confident you wouldn't know that Mary was homeless or that she lived in a church, unless she told you. She would go to school with her backpack and her clothes that maybe you might notice she wears more than other kids. But lets be honest here. In full disclosure, I have my favorite five outfits and most likely its the only thing you see me wear. If you knew me when I was pregnant at all, I had one skirt. ONE that I wore everyday. I'm not kidding. If it was dirty, I wore my pajama's until it was clean. Then I wore it again. My husband would joke that living with me was like living with the Scooby Doo clan, always wearing the same thing no matter where they were. (I think he burned the skirt. I know he hid the pajama pants.)

My point is, you often don't know the story behind people. We look at people, but we don't see them. We judge before we really get to know. I can only imagine how difficult school must seem to a young girl who moves every week. Who has to check in at her host church every night at 5:15. What does she do until then? She can't go to a friends house. She invite others over to her home. She can't go to a birthday party because she can't afford a present. She goes to sleep every night without security. Focusing on school would be increasingly difficult and nearly impossible if it were me. How is she supposed to succeed at her grades? At her friendships?

You wouldn't know Mary was homeless by just looking at her. You might I assume I was by looking at me. You never know what someones story is until you ask. Until you invest. I encourage us all to keep our judgement at bay. We are quick to judge so we can either understand in our own conclusion what we do not know, or dismiss it so we don't have to deal with it. Judgement hardens the heart. Understanding ushers forth mercy.

The second thing I noted that evening, is that my kids were genuinely confused about where Mary's mother was. I asked the boys what they thought and they said she either died or someone took her. I asked why they thought someone would take her, and Big's response was, "Because there is no reason a mommy wouldn't be with her kids."

My heart broke. I didn't correct them. Some truths aren't meant to be shared at such a young age, and I want my kids to believe that there is nothing that would take a mama away from her kids as long as possible. That will always be their truth.

So we prayed for Mary and her dad and her mom wherever she was. We agreed to leave that unknown truth to God. Only he knows where Mary's mom is, but we prayed that God would bring peace between Mary and her mom, whatever happened.

Random Wed. part 3: When the world is scary

Today things went to a whole new level in the hood.

We have lived in North Mpls for nine years now. It has had it's quiet seasons, and it's unsettling seasons. The last couple months has seen a rise in activity.

Today while I was talking on the phone outside on the sidewalk and the kids were playing in the front yard, I had 10 SWAT team members running past me quickly telling me to get inside.

I quickly hung up, and ushered my kids inside as we witnessed the SWAT team break down the door of one my kids friends homes. He lives two houses down.

The SWAT team stayed for 15min and then left alone. They took no one with them. A squad car sat outside with officers going in and out for the next half hour.

The kids and I prayed for their friend and his mom hoping that she and he were alright. When I saw the little boy outside later that night, he looked scarred. He was quiet and withdrawn. I can't imagine what goes on in a little boy's head when 10large men break down your door and have guns pointed at your dad, uncle and all their friends.

After devotions and putting the kids in bed, the sound of sirens screeching down our street, lights going, sirens blaring got both the boys up with tears in their eyes.

"Are the SWAT team coming to our house with their guns?"

Ahhhhh....and there it is. I wasn't sure how much of the afternoon sunk into the kids, but they are very well aware of everything that goes on around them.

Middle was really scared, so I laid down with him and we talked for a bit. He had questions about what the SWAT team looks for. What bad things are in his friends house? Where were the bad guys? Why are their uniforms scary? Whey did they have to break the door? Why couldn't they knock? What is the difference between ghosts and spirits? If Fire fighters protect us from fire, and police protect us from bad guys, who protects us from ghosts? (don't ask how we got there, I am still not sure.) Are ghosts real? When I close my eyes, I only see the SWAT team and their guns.

So this was my evening. Having very grown up talks with my four year old. I've never taken care of children before my own, so I don't really know how to handle these kinds of things. I often think I should tone down my honesty, but my kids seem to be able to handle it.

The thing is, there are scary things in the world. When you are a parent you want nothing more than to keep any of those bad things touching your kids. You can shield them and protect them, and try to keep anything "evil" from entering your home or shield devises, but the truth is, its gonna get in. It always does.

My kids were really tired. I was looking forward to getting them to bed early, cleaning up an easy dinner and then setting down to sew or bringing out my favorite fall decorations. I rented a movie and my husband was with the band for the night.

I had a plan.

Then life happened. Real hard things happened.

As a parent I would like nothing more than to pretend that what happened today didn't happen. I want to erase what my kids witnessed.

Or I can invite Christ into what happened. I blend the good and the bad all together and discuss with my kids what it is to be afraid. What do we do when we are scared and saying that Jesus is with me isn't' enough.

So we talked. I listened. I gave answers when I had them and was honest about not knowing everything.

I then went and grabbed a prayer shawl that was given to middle after the tornado from Calvary Lutheran in Golden Valley. I laid his shawl on him, reminded him that he was prayed for, gave him a small cross to hold in his hand, and let him look at his Bible with a flash light to put good stories and pictures in his mind.

I know, lots of people wish and pray we would leave the hood.

The truth is we can't. No matter what happens, we are here at least for awhile.

So what does it look like to live where you are? To bring faith, love and hope into whatever situation you are given. I could wish away and dream of living on a hobby farm, but that is not my reality.

The hood is.

So how do I teach my kids to live in the messy, messy world that is truthfully right outside our door?

I don't really have a plan but to be honest.

Honest about the hard, hateful ways of people and the love that God has for sinners. Most importantly including ourselves.

Today started with middle asking me what a tampon was and how it worked. I should have known.

I should have known the questions wouldn't stop.

I should have known.

Random Wed. part 2: devotions with kids

I wish we as a culture of believers, myself included, would take the truth of starting spiritual education at home with the church supporting what we teach at home, instead of the other way around.

Paul and I are always asking ourselves how we can be imprinting a desire for God and his love into our children. We want them to want to choose Him.

Yesterday I did a lot of cleaning of all of our paperwork, files, mail, to do piles. It appears my one pile has turned into I think I counted seven yesterday. As I was going through pile after pile, I came across the kids Sunday School take home devotion sheet. This is a tool for families to use at home during one of their devotional times together. It talked about what happened in Sunday School, and what they will be learning next week to get the kids prepared. Then it also provided great prayers, questions, and activities to do together throughout the week to reinforce what they are learning at church.

I kept that paper out hoping that I would force myself to do it with my kids. It takes more time than just reading a story and by night time, I am pretty exhausted. But tonight, I was feeling it, so we did it!

We reread the story of Noah and I started asking the boys questions about what would their ark look like? What would be hard about being on the ark? Who has to take care of the animals? Would they pee of the boat into the water? Where does the poop go? It was amazing spiritual conversation, let me tell you.

Then we started talking about promises. We talked about mourning and grieving and what those words meant. What happened to the all the other people not on the boat? How long did it take Noah to build the ark? Do you think people made fun of him? Did he still listen to God instead of listening to the mocking of others? Were they sad that their friends died?

It was amazing having these conversations with the boys. After we talked about all that, we did the rain song. You know the one where you start rubbing your hands together, then you snap, then you clap, then you slap your knees, then you stomp your feet. We talked about all the rain sounds, and then we discussed the tornado.

It always comes back to the tornado.

We talked about what it must have been like for Noah and his family and being scared watching the whole earth disappear. Then we talked about what it means to abide. How God abides in us. He never leaves us nor forsakes us. He is ever watchful and everything that happens has a purpose.

After we prayed that God would open our eyes to see him working in our lives, we went outside and spread bread crumbs on the yard to help take care of the birds and squirrels, just like Noah. We are hoping they are gone by morning.

Working with the church in the spiritual development of our children is an amazing opportunity to the strongest foundation possible. For all the teachers can give our children, we have the opportunity for one on one conversations and questions with our children. Questions that come up when relearning stories the second and third time. It also provides the frame work for real life questions. Reading the story of Noah allowed real life application of the tornado to be discussed again in our home. To remember how God provided for us and took care of us.

It was this really great night of grown up conversation with my boys.

If your church provides take home sheets to further the spiritual development of what they are teaching, I recommend finding one night in the week to do it together.

FYI: This was one great moment, however we are just like every other family (I hope) and have to fight against our kids not wanting to go to church on Sunday, not wanting to the read the bible in the morning, but a fun book, and still trying to remind them that we love each other. This one moment does not make us holy, it makes us desperate for what God offers us.

Random Wed. part 1: Fun fall craft project

I saw this project on a family craft website and really thought it was right up our alley. So middle and I went to the fabric store with our coupon and choose what we thought were some really fantastic, aesthetically stellar fabrics in sight and in touch and we were ready for our fun fall project of making pumpkins.

Tomorrow at Noah's school it's teacher appreciation day and so this project idea lined up perfect. I don't ever know what to get my husband as a gift and I've known him for years. How am I supposed to find something for a woman who is teaching my son everyday, empowering him with knowledge and gracing him with patience as he learns to live in a whole new world? And we've only known each other for three weeks? What the heck do you get a teacher?

A homemade present of the best kind!

So I cleared off the kitchen table.

I gave big and middle each their own set of fabrics. We had fuzzy white, soft bumpy brown, traditional pumpkin orange, fleece green, and a fun random array of fall colors on one single fabric.



I had the boys pick out bowls of varying sizes and gave them markers to start tracing. They delighted and succeeded at the task from the word go.



They took turns with the fabric scissors. One would trace and the other would cut.





After circles were cut, we would get our thread ready and the boys would do a light stitch around the outside of the circle.



Once the outside of the circle was stitched, I took over and started to pull the thread tight. Pulling the thread tight created a fun little pocket and the boys would take our recycled plastic grocery bags and stuff them inside.

Once stuffed, I would tie them closed and vola', a ball!



Well, it was a ball until we stuffed a stick in the top and then, magically it became a pumpkin.

We were having a grand ole time making a huge mess with markers, scissors and fabric all over. We went and hunted sticks outside and collected a large number that means we have many pumpkins to make.

Big picked his favorite and we decided that was the one he would give his teacher to sit on her desk.

We found the perfect size box, found some old green tissue paper and cut it up into strips. We then had lots of fun scrunching up the tissue paper to look like grass.

Here is the final gift.



Here is a small handful of our final product.



This is a really fun project to do with kids and I highly recommend it!

We create our own busy

A few years ago, I was very conscious of people, myself included, always replying to the question, "How are you?" with "Good, but busy."

It was incredible how often that was the response. Busy, busy, busy, busy. We are just so much busier than we used to be. Everyone has so many activities, we are just so busy.

I really hate it. I don't like that phrase, but mostly I don't like how I started to blame busy as if it came into my house and stole time from me. I started treating it like it controlled me and not the other way around.

I didn't like that I was so busy. I didn't like that spur of the moment BBQ with friends could happen the day the idea popped into someones mind. We just had to schedule a BBQ with my husband's band three months out because we were all so busy!

Busy is stealing our lives. Even good busy. Good programs, church programs, school programs, community programs, self serving programs, serving programs, you name it and we just bombarded with options in how to spend our time, except we are a culture that doesn't know how to say no.

My family is no exception. We are busy, except our busy is traveling. We leave a lot. But when me and the kids are home, I try so hard to not be busy. Not that there aren't days where crazy busy happens.

A couple years ago my husband called me out on the fact that I was running our kids out every day to stuff and we weren't creating a space where they could just be. Learn to be bored, learn to think for themselves, create their own games, etc. He knew it was because I had more issues that I didn't want to deal with, and staying busy allowed me to not face my demons. But he was right. And since then, though we fail quite a bit, when we are home, we stay home. We hang out here, create here, fight here, do life here. They are learning chores, and how to manage relationships with each other.

We really like not being so busy anymore. I still need to call my mom and ask her if I should do certain events or what not, and she is my voice of reason, reminding me to slow down.

Until this week, and my old life of crazy busy was here.

This week starting on Sunday, we had our church welcome days, a trip up to a friends cabin, middle started school three times a week this week, I volunteered at big's school one morning, or tried to, we hosted two get together's, I worked one night, had a friend's goodbye dinner, and band practice, and we had a friend's wedding rehearsal and wedding. However amongst all of this is our new life calling of eating almost all raw and nutritional food. So I have to prepare the food we will eat at the wedding, because we can't eat there, make homemade ketchup, cookies, muffins for lunch, eggs and oatmeal every morning for breakfast, and your normal grocery shopping, bank run, laundry, clean the house work. And what's great, is this was the week they started work on our house.

I write that and it feels gross to me. To have commitments every night of the week and some nights, my husband had commitments when I did.

I don't like doing life this way. My life is then consumed with check lists, preparation, clean up, driving, and all of our conversations in the house are how to prepare and get ready for the next thing.

This is not me complaining, because I did this to myself. I didn't get my Bible Study written, so I NEEDED to do it before the deadline. I hosted two parties in a week where we had a wedding. I didn't put anything on my calendar and then said yes to everything.

Everything this week are good things. And some you have to do, but most of it, I could have planned better to say, we only want one commitment a week. We have little kids and we want play time. Down time. Life time.

Some people like being busy. That is fine, because that is how they thrive.

I like living at a slower pace. I have time to pay attention to life, and to my children, and my husband and to my other relationships. Cause this week, I haven't had any time to do the things I love. Bible study, calling friends, bike riding, getting down on the floor and playing with my kids.

When you are busy, your life becomes consumed with getting prepared for the next thing instead of enjoying the moment you are in.

Here's to making better choices and living in the moment you've been given.

I want to choose better next time.

A moment to choose

"It's quiet.
It's early.
My coffee is hot.
The sky is still black.
The world is asleep.
The Day is coming.

In a few moments the day will arrive.
It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun.
The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day.
The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race.
The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made,
and deadlines to be met.

For the next twelve hours, I will be exposed to the day's demands.
It is now that I must make a choice.
Because of Calvary, I'm free to choose.
And so I choose.

I CHOOSE LOVE
No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness.
I choose love.
Today, I will love God and what God loves.

I CHOOSE JOY
I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance.
I will refuse the temptation to be cynical...
the tool of a lazy thinker.
I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings,
created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less
than an opportunity to see God.

I CHOOSE PEACE
I will live forgive.
I will forgive so that I may live.

I CHOOSE PATIENCE
I will overlook the inconveniences of this world.
Instead of cursing the one who takes my place,
I'll invite him/her to do so.
Rather than complain that the wait is too long,
I will thank God for a moment to pray.
Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments,
I will face them with joy and courage.

I CHOOSE KINDNESS
I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone.
Kind to the rich, for they are afraid.
And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.

I CHOOSE GOODNESS
I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one.
I will be overlooked before I will boast.
I will confess before I will accuse.
I choose goodness.

I CHOOSE FAITHFULNESS
Today I will keep my promises.
My debtors will not regret their trust.
My associates will not question my word.
My husband/wife will not question my love.
And my children will never fear that their mother/father will not come home.

I CHOOSE GENTLENESS
Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle.
If I raise my voice, may it only be in praise.
If I clench my fist, may it only be in prayer.
If I make a demand, may it only be of myself.

I CHOOSE SELF-CONTROL
I am a spiritual being...
after this body is dead, my spirit will soar.
I refuse to let what will rot, rule the eternal.
I choose self-control.
I will be drunk only by joy.
I will be impassioned only by my faith.
I will be influenced only by God.
I will be taught only by Christ.
I choose self-control.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
To these I commit my day.
If I succeed, I will give thanks.
If I fail, I will seek His grace.
And then, when this day is done,
I will place my head on my pillow and rest."

- Max Lucado
When God Whispers Your Name

A bit of crazy

It's funny, the last few weeks, even months have been about preparing Big for school. When the day finally came and he left the house, I walked back in to two peaceful kids playing quietly. They played that way for over an hour.

On more than one occasion I stood in the middle of my living room and thought, what do I do with myself? I started to realize that I will have time. Not a ton of time still with two children at home, but more time than I am used to, and I had no idea what to do with myself.

My mind was filled with random thoughts and questions and emotions and fears and excitement. If you called me at any point, my answer was different every time I answered the phone. I have no idea how to do life right now.

Last week was the first time I felt like I could really breathe. Not just for a few moments maybe, but for a whole day. I started to feel like I could do life again.

Now the rules of the game have changed again and I don't know what I'm doing anymore.

We have a strict morning and night time routine. I have lunches I need to prepare and uniforms that have to be clean. A whole new ball game indeed.

Today I felt incomplete without Big.
I was excited to have two kids which is much easier to manage.
I didn't know what to do.
I was hoping Big was good and happy and behaving.
I was sad about having such little time during each day with him.
I thought to myself, I could actually get stuff done!!!
I wandered aimlessly around.
I cried over the fact that my son has started the process he will be in till he leaves my house.
I cried scared that all my fears for his choices will drive him away.
I snuggled and giggled and tickled my daughter who belly laughed the whole time.
I watched a cartoon with middle.
I took my two little ones out to lunch.
I missed my son who has been with me almost every day of life.
Today felt like breaking up with someone.
I was reminded that my children are a HUGE part of my life, but NOT my life.
I remembered that it is the goal of every parent to raise children who will leave the house and develop their own life.
I remembered that as parents you give your best to your children so they can make their own choices and mistakes and find love and grace and forgiveness in you and the Lord.
I was scared that my example of being a Christian won't be enough for Big to choose God in comparison to what else is out there.
I was scared for all the things that will hurt my son.
I was excited for all the fun things my son will discover.
I prayed and hoped for amazing friends.
I desire wisdom and fear doubt.
I was happy.
I was sad.
I was lonely.
I was lost.
I was free.
I was confused.

I'm tired of feeling all these things. I wish being a parent was easier, or my ability to really let go of my issues was complete. I've let them go before and felt peace. But I have found that if I don't continue to lay down my fears, they will come back and control me again.

Step by step, day by day, God will be enough and we will figure this out.

Now time for bed so I can do it all over again, but maybe a little less wandering around my house. My kids might start getting worried.

Big is in Kindergarten!

So we did our rights of passage. (which we are pretty sure had no effect but I digress.)

I stayed up late researching great lunch options for my allergen free child.

We made our checklists for our morning routine to help us succeed in being prepared for school and have a peaceful time together as a family before parting ways.

We did a devotion on the armour of God and how we need to be prepared as children of God.

Then came our first day of school.

Paul brought out the necklace that we got for Big. After he was in his uniform, Paul explained that we wanted to give him a token to be worn each day that will remind Big of who he is. He is a child of God, bought with the blood of Christ. Behind the cross, is a guitar pick with his name on it. He loved it!



So he was armed and ready, and it was time to let him go. I have cried so much over this for the last two years, I didn't cry when he left with Paul. Though periodically throughout the day, truly random things would make me cry. I'm a work in progress I guess.



Noah wasn't sad at all. He was so excited and ready to be in school. We are so proud of him and pray continually that God is watching over him and helping him make choices that will bring Him glory and honor. And when he messes up, that Big will know he can come to his dad and me and he will find love and forgiveness with us. That we will help him figure out whatever hard thing he faces.

I am now a parent of a kindergartner. School will rule my life for the next dozen or so years.

Whew, still not ready for that and school has already started.

Way to go Big!

Choices

My husband and I have had lots of choices laid before us lately. At least it feels like more than normal. It's interesting to watch how we make choices and got me thinking about how others make choices.

Here's one choice I have struggled with, been at war with, and has been all consuming for about two years.

Homeschooling vs. traditional school.

Here's what I need you to know. I am not looking for your opinion, guidance, or thoughts on which one is better or which one we should do. I do not need the pros and cons for each side. I don't need to know which one you favor. In truth, it has nothing to do with what you think, the research you have, or how strongly you feel one way or the other. I believe with my whole my heart it has everything to do with how faithful my husband and I are to listening and trusting God with what is right for our family.

It's interesting for me to even be writing about this because I used to have very strong feelings against homeschooling. I am sorry if this statement offends you, but that is where I was at. I thought it was terrible that so many Christian families were pulling their kids out of the schools. The place where we need to be more than ever. I thought it went against God's call for us to live out our faith where we are. To be a light to the lost, etc.

Then two summers ago, I was speaking at a youth camp and when I was out for my morning run I was praying and all of a sudden I felt something very strongly towards homeschooling and started to think about it is a viable option for my kids. To say I was stunned and confused is an understatement. I had no idea what to do with what I was feeling, and the feelings wouldn't go away. Later that week I decided to call my mom. I usually do that if I need to process something and talking to God felt very confusing since I had no idea how to process what I was hearing and feeling.

So the war in my mind, body and soul started. I was terrified of homeschooling and so I kept it my little secret for some time. I couldn't dare say it out loud because then I might actually have to do something with it. I fought it. I prayed about it. I read about it. I cried over it. I obsessed over it. I cried some more about it.

God was changing my heart. My very stubborn, hard, judgmental heart. I had previously judged homeschooling very harshly, and now God was breaking my attitude. He was calling me to obedience to search his truth. He was calling me to let down my walls and see something beautiful. He was calling me to open my heart to see that there is more than one right way to raise your children. God was freeing me of judgment.

I think freedom from judgment is one of the most beautiful gifts to ever be received. It allows us to see people, issues, and life outside of our own preconceived ideas and opinions. It allows for more grace and compassion towards our fellow man kind instead of their misdeeds against the institution we believe in.

Here's one problem with me. I have many, many issues, but for the sake of this already long blog, we will stick to this one main issue. I am the first to admit that I am a person who loves to do what she wants. I want to eat so I will. I want to do this, so I will. I don't want to work out, so I won't.

I live on my will. But my will changes all the time. And my will is based on my feelings.

You should hear my prayers, most of the time I cry out to God to hear his voice above my own, and usually it is where doubt plaques me. I start to doubt if I am doing what I am doing because its what I want, or because I know it is what God wants.

Another thing you should know about me is that when I am pregnant, I am emotionally stunted. It kind of has turned into a joke with those who are close to me. It is also how I knew I was pregnant this last time. My husband was sharing something with me that constituted at least a little bit of feeling from me, and I had nothing. I could care less. He saw my blank expression and at the same time, we both knew. I was pregnant. I live this way for nine months, struggling to stir up any kind of emotion, and then for about a year after the baby is born, I can't stop crying over the littlest of things.

My daughter is now 18months old, and so that means for the last two years of this war within myself, I have been emotionally stunted and emotionally unstable. Most of the time, I just have had no idea how to gauge who I am or what is real or not real inside of me.

So I finally had the courage to tell my husband, who I knew was not a big fan of homeschooling, what I was wrestling with. We talked about it and decided that I should home school the boys for a year and research schools in Mpls to know what our options were. I wanted to check into schools because much like homeschooling before, I was casting lots of judgments on a program and a system I didn't know anything about. I hadn't stepped inside an elementary school since I went to one, and yet, was acting like the devil himself had taken charge of them.

So I went and researched dozens of schools and visited half a dozen. We applied at three just to see what happened and to really get an idea of what our options really were.

About this time is when Big was off the charts crazy angry and I was crying all day every day, calling my mom three times a day begging for help. Desperately seeking prayers and answers and guidance. I was drowning under the pressure of three highly active, determined, passionate, stubborn children. We had no rhythm to our daily lives. I take that back, survival was our goal and what drove all of our decisions. I would strive for some sort of schedule, but discipline, guidance and correction would overtake all else.

It was a rough year. The roughest since my mild depression after my second was born and it was my first year as a stay home mom wrestling with my identity and who I was now that I wasn't working.

I felt lost. I felt like the worse version of myself. I was letting everyone around me down with communication and expectations I had of myself. I didn't know to live very well. And here I wasn't just struggling; I was deeply affected with this decision of homeschooling vs. traditional schooling for my family.

If you spend any significant time with me, you will soon realize that I don't really debate. I don't argue, and I don't take a stand on many issues. Most often, right or wrong, I can see and understand both sides of the issue. If you are going to argue a point, I get it and can agree with you. But often, I can see the other side and understand the reasoning, especially if it is an issue not of right or wrong, but of difference.

Schooling in my opinion is an issue of difference. I do believe with my whole heart that God blesses homeschooling and traditional schooling. I believe it is a matter of what is right for each individual family.

My issue is that I deeply see the benefits of homeschooling and traditional school.

What I love about homeschooling is the slower pace to life. More time with my kiddos to have hands on life experience and "field trips". To continue to guard and protect their hearts. To teach them what they need to know all in the context of God as provider, protector and King. To protect their innocence as long as possible. To move them past so much of the social struggles and instill a deeper maturity. To allow them to be kids longer, play more, and learn at their own pace. I know there is more, my list is long, but right now, the words escape me.

What I love about traditional schooling is allowing my son to grow into himself outside of me and his siblings. To learn things I can't teach him; to learn authority from others and follow more structure. To struggle with the way others do life and then come home and allow us to help him make choices and walk through those issues with him. It allows him the ability to make a choice about his faith on his own. It allows me a bit of time to spend with his siblings and get to know them more intimately. Again, there is more to my list, but not in my head.

There are also cons, but not necessary to discuss right now. I also bring a big set of fears into both issues. Can I be enough to my kids if I'm all they have? What if my child discovers another set of rules, faith, way of living inside school and chooses that instead? Do I want us to live a life that is filled with "busy"? Just because it’s what everyone says you should do, do you do it? What if we've made the wrong choice?

Through the course of the last couple months I have been settled into sending our son to Chinese Immersion School. This is an incredible opportunity for him to learn about the world. To study language and have a mind for language which is a huge gift considering how large his world will be with internet and the global job market. It will aid him in loving, understanding others and keeping judgment on the differences between people at bay. This is a rare gift.

Then I started to struggle with home school again. The first time I deeply prayed over it, I realized I wanted to home school because I thought I could control my children's salvation. I thought I could guarantee they would be saved and they would want a relationship with me and be different than all the teenagers I speak with at youth events.

My desire to home school was solely based on fear and a non-existent trust in God.

Now my desire to home school was for all the benefits that home school offered. This was very different. But I wasn't just looking at traditional schooling vs. homeschooling; I was looking at a rare wonderful opportunity of an immersion school for my son.

It was great option 1 vs. great option2. The need to decide was heavy on my heart. Killing my concentration, and consuming my thoughts. What should I do?

I was terrified to pray about it afraid that God would tell me to home school. If he told me to home school, could I do it? I would be divided against my husband on the issue and that was not tempting to me. What if I failed? What if I heard wrong? What if I took an amazing gift of Chinese immersion away from my son and it was the wrong choice?

So I stepped slowly into praying about it. I tiptoed in. Scared and being honest with God about where I was at, but confident He had an answer for me. Then, I slowly heard, this is your choice right now. For right now, it’s your choice. What do you want to do?

Then I got upset and a little ticked off. How dare He! If he told me to home school or go to immersion school than at least I had him to blame for my choice. I needed a scapegoat, and he wasn't giving me one.

If it was my choice, and the pro and con list was equal on both sides, how does one decide?

How do you make choices in your life? How do you choose between two really good things? How do you know what the right answer is?

For me, I wept. Every night for over a week, I went to bed early to read, journal and pray. Mostly I just wept in honest confession about all my fears, confusion, and tiredness. I confessed I was exhausted from this war. I needed an answer. I couldn't trust myself. I begged and pleaded to God to grant me peace so I could hear his voice and make a decision.

His peace did come. I did find rest. And it didn't come in the pro's and con's list. It didn't come with the knowledge of the benefits or fears for either side. It came in being faithful to listen to God and hear his voice. It came in trusting Him to be enough no matter what the decision.

I also realized that my son will not face the enemy in all the ways I fear in Kindergarten. I realized that now is probably not the time for me to make such a choice, and for now, we keep him in this amazing opportunity of immersion school. This will allow him time to grow into himself. This will allow me time to be with my other two. This will allow me time to breathe, slow down a little, and pray some more. It will allow me time to let go of some of the control I imagine I have over my children's souls and futures.

Mostly it will allow time to bring healing, answers, and hope for our choice. This choice is not for forever. We are taking it year by year, and we choose tradition school for this year. I am usually peaceful about this choice. But the first day of school brought back my fears, sadness and awareness at the weight of how big going to school is.

My son is a kindergartener at Chinese Immersion School in Minneapolis and he loves it. This is apart of his story and God will bless it. I can’t wait to see how he will teach us all, stretch us, guide us, and daily bring us into his grace and mercy. For all my control issues, I will be reminded continuously that there is only one who knows all.

But if I could pick one superhero power, it would be hindsight.