"Recalculating"

I love my GPS.  When I first started using it, I already had some favorite routes for getting in and out of my side of town.  When I would go to a new place, the GPS would usually direct me a different way.  I would ignore that, of course, and hear the automated voice say "recalculating" to adjust for the new directions.  Sometimes I heard that a lot.
 
That's what life is like right now - adjustments.  I never know from day to day what I will find or have to respond to in caregiving.  Some days I feel guilty at the end because I had gaps of time that I didn't use productively.  Other days I'm relieved that we get to bedtime with everyone fed something.   This is not the "me" I've been used to.

Before this season of caregiving, I loved planning.  Organizers and charts were my friend.  I had running lists for chores, groceries, clothing items, household projects, etc.  Now I find that planning a week's menu feels like scaling a mountain.  I've been so frustrated by that, feeling like I'm somehow losing myself and my orientation to life around me.  I want to be able to manage efficiently, but I just can't get that "jump start" to get going again in that direction.

I find myself wondering if this is a response to the uncertainty of life, if there's a part of me that just feels overwhelmed and responds with "why bother".  That's not on the surface of my thinking, but it is a possibility, I think.  At the more practical level, there's a learning curve to what I'm doing and I know much emotional and intellectual energy is going in a lot of new directions.  Maybe things will settle.

At any rate, I have been so thankful for the peace that comes from knowing my God has the map in hand.  With each new challenge, I can look to Him for recalculating so I can continue to faithfully follow the course that's been set for me.  This is often in my mind - "...let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith...".  Heb. 12: 1-2

Speaking life

Have you seen the commercial with "Negative Nancy"?  Honestly, one of the biggest challenges for me in caring for my mom is the daily losses we have to deal with.  She's still aware enough to know what's changing and she will voice her dismay and, sometimes, her anger about this.  And I get it.  I know I value my independence and love my connections with friends and family.  Slowly losing that is hard.  But meeting that day after day has stretched me.  I haven't wanted to be dishonest or just offer empty clichés, and sympathetic hand-patting seems inadequate.  Thankfully, I have stumbled across a couple of ways to meet this challenge that have been a blessing for both my mom and me.

  One thing I've tried to do each day is initiate a distraction early in the day - a distraction of beauty with an expression of gratitude.  Mom loves birds and flowers, so we're putting seed on the handrail of the deck steps so she can sit on the porch and watch the birds.  She's spending a lot of time doing that and taking great joy in their antics.  With her memory issues, each day is like a first time seeing them!  We also have put a pot of mums on the table and she's paying close attention to them.  I originally planted them in the yard so they'd become part of the garden, but she went out and pulled them back up because she liked them on the table.  So I had to repot them.

  Yesterday she was pretty discouraged and overwhelmed by her awareness of all the help she needs now - meals, cleaning, even personal care.  We were on our way back from the grocery store and she commented on the fact that she couldn't do anything any more and how worthless she felt.  She thanked me for what I was doing and I said, "Mom, every single thing I'm doing I've learned from you.  I watched you do it for us and I watched you do it for your mom.  In a way, you are still doing things."  To my surprise, her face just lit up! 

  I know we'll have to repeat this conversation again many times, and there will come a time when even that connection will go, but I'm so very thankful that I can be here for these moments and keep her connected for as long as possible. 

Just Be

One of the most difficult lessons to learn during my young mom years was to slow down and enter my child's world.  As a task-oriented personality, I was often dragging my little ones through my to-do list, especially when I had to run errands out of my home.  Occasionally, I would give in to their excitement over flowers or rocks and stop and admire with them.  As I matured, I learned to organize more with their needs in mind.  But, when push came to shove, I could always pack a snack, pick them up, put them in their car seats, and take off to do what I needed to do.

I'm once again being challenged to slow down and orient to the needs of another.  This time, though, it's not little people.  It is my mother and my sister.  Both are challenged with declining cognitive abilities as well as physical struggles.  To walk to the end of the driveway with either of them is a s-l-o-w process.  For my sister, it's primarily the physical challenge of muscular dystrophy.  We have to stop, rebalance, and take very small steps. She looks at the ground at her feet and is unable to see and process the rest of her environment. For my mom, it's partly physical and partly the distraction of the world around her - flowers, birds, the car across the street that's always parked there but that she thinks is new (every single day).  Unlike earlier years, though, I can't just pick them up and put them in the car to pursue my tasks.  I must orient myself completely to the world as they experience it, and I'm learning how to anticipate and flex with daily changes in abilities and behaviors.

The most important lesson of these past few months for me is this - while the body and brain may deteriorate, the soul of a person stays until the last breath.  Mom needs me to look right at her when I speak.  If I'm not right beside her, she will come and stand in front of me to tell me something so she can see my eyes.  That's such an important connection.  It is more significant for her (and for my sister) to know that I am there for them, not just doing tasks but simply being there.  For me, this means far more sitting and T.V. time than I would ever choose for myself, but for them it communicates that I value and love them.  Yes, I still feel restless in this season.  I'm praying, though, that I'll learn to rest and enjoy those moments with them, because, like childhood, I won't have them here forever.

Difficult Questions, Easy Answers

In the movie Shadowlands, one of C.S. Lewis's friends describes him as a man who specialized in "easy answers to difficult questions".  Lewis was already famous for his Narnia books and was a popular speaker, especially on the subject of the problem of pain.  His friend Christopher was not as convinced of the truth of Lewis's view as others were.  But he got to see the ideas put to the test as he witnessed the plunge into the "dark night of the soul" that Lewis experienced after his wife Joy died.  There were no easy answers now, only dread and emptiness. How would he find his way out of the darkness? How could he explain the silence?
 
One of the many reasons I love the Bible is the honesty that is found there.  Honest truth, not platitudes.  Job spends many days grappling with finding his way forward after the loss of everything.  And in a supremely ironic twist, his comforters prove to be his biggest opponents.  No easy answers there.  Almost all of the prophets are called to deal honestly with the grim realities of their particular generations.  Yet, as each one does so, he is made aware of God's personal presence.  Not necessarily an answer, but a presence.  One of my favorites is Habakkuk.  He opens his book with these questions - "O Lord, how long shall I cry, and You will not hear?.....Why do You show me iniquity and cause me to see trouble?.. Why do you look on those who deal treacherously and hold Your tongue when the wicked devours a person more righteous than he?"  That's a lot of questions!  He then says this - "I will stand my watch and set myself on the rampart, and watch to see what He will say to me, and what I will answer when I am corrected."  He expects God to show up.  That is faith.

Lewis did find the way forward, and he wrote about it in his novel Till We Have Faces.  At the end of the book, as the main character Orual finally has her chance to voice her complaints and questions, she concludes, "I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer.  You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away.  What other answer would suffice?"  Lewis found what we all need to find - not answers but presence.  Emmanuel. God with us.  Simple - yes.  Easy - no.

Homeschooling - with Joy!

 

  Some of you may have heard of Ann Voskamp’s best-selling book One Thousand Gifts.  In that book, she explores the secret to a joyful life.  Not surprisingly, she returns to a truth of Scripture : “in everything give thanks.” (I. Thess. 5:18) It is in gratitude that we learn the secret of joy.  As we begin to truly see the nature of life – that all good gifts are from God, and that there are so many gifts! – our orientation turns from grumbling and gloom to delight and joy.

  As the new year begins, finding joy in the aftermath of vacations and celebrations can be challenging.  Math, spelling, and grammar aren’t usually considered joyful endeavors for most of us.  While the year is still young, consider  folding in a new habit for your school focus – thanksgiving.    I’ve been challenged to take up Ann’s Joy Dare this year.  (www.aholyexperience.com)   She encourages me to look for three “gifts” each day and write them down while giving thanks.   Having that idea before me each morning turns the day into a treasure hunt!

   You can make this “gift hunt” as general or specific as you like.  You could just keep a tablet somewhere handy to your daily focal point (that’s the dining room at my house) and ask the kids at lunch or dinner time to name three “gifts” that they’ve seen that day.  Be sure you’re contributing as well!  If you need the guidance of a more specific approach, you could consider Charlotte Mason’s recommendations for daily organization.  She said that each day children need something or someone to love, something to do, and something to think about.  These can provide good categories for thanksgiving.  What evidences of love are you thankful for today?  What activity or job are you glad you got to do?  What idea, story, music, part of nature, or art was a gift or blessing today?  With these categories in place at the beginning of the morning, you’ll be more aware of the gifts that come your way each day.

  Ultimately, turning our hearts to thank God for these things creates deep and lasting joy.  As we get older, we begin to realize that even difficult things hold hidden blessings, and we learn to give thanks for those things as well.  The fact that we get to learn this supremely important lesson along with our children in our homeschool is a huge gift.  It’s at the top of my  thanksgiving list!

Wilderness Wanderings

"Not all who wander are lost" wrote JRR Tolkien.  Lost or not, the experience of wandering in an unknown place - a wilderness - is not a comfortable one.  Whether it's a literal wilderness of an unknown land or the metaphorical wilderness of a life experience, for the Christian there are some recognizable landmarks and a promise of hope.

I've come to recognize that "wilderness experiences" have some common characteristics.  One of these is isolation. This is the season of aloneness, a season that can leave you wondering if there is really love to be found in this life.  It can make us doubt our perceptions.  Another is danger.  We know there are unknown (and sometimes known) pitfalls, yet, because we are alone, we can't take a break from being watchful.  It's exhausting.  Because of both isolation and danger, we can feel very vulnerable and subject to temptations.  Things that wouldn't entice us under ordinary circumstances can pull very powerfully on us during wilderness times. 

It is during these time that we realize how much we truly must depend on God for everything.  In fact, in looking back over the times in my life which have felt like a wilderness, I realize that the questions being posed are always the same - "Did God say?" and "Do you trust Him?" 

Another characteristic that wilderness experiences share is the one that encourages me that I'm not lost there.  It is this - they are temporary, designed by God and allowed in my life to prepare me for what He has coming next.  Moses, Elijah, Paul, and Jesus himself were all prepared for service in the wilderness.  So even though I feel the isolation, I know I'm not alone.  Many have walked this route before and found God to be always good and always faithful.  They are that "great cloud of witnesses" that Hebrews 12 mentions, continually urging me on by testifying to the greatness of our God.

I don't see the end yet to this bleak landscape I'm currently in, but each day gives me the opportunity to move forward in faith.  I'm wandering right now, but, thankfully, I'm not lost.

Why I'm a Terrible Blogger

All the conventional wisdom I've seen on blogging maintains that a good blogger needs to post regularly - daily, weekly, bi-weekly - in order to keep in touch with readers.  And I must confess,  I do have a couple of blogs that I read on a regular basis.  However, I'm never going to be a good blogger myself for a couple of reasons.

1) I don't have something worthwhile to say on a regular basis. :)  Most of the time I'm swimming in the mundane aspects of life and enjoying the beautiful things as they are flying by.  I'm a slow processor, so whipping out a quick blog isn't going to happen for me.

2) I am woefully aware of my tendency to be reactive and sharp-tongued.  I purposely keep things on hold while I try to think through the best way to write about a subject.  Again, this takes me a while, so I'm not one to generate a lot of impassioned posts on current topics.  "Where words are many, sin abounds." Proverbs 10:19

That being said, I've got a backlog of ideas to explore this summer, so I may just get out more than a quarterly blog!  Stay tuned. :)

I recently got an invitation from someone to join twitter.  I've thought about that a bit, and decided that my challenge in life is to NOT say the first thing that pops into my head.  Twitter would make me feel obligated to do otherwise.  So, no tweeting here.  I'm still working on this space, though.

Thoughts on Mother's Day

For my children: You make this day special for me.  Without your presence in my life, there would be a whole dimension missing.  I don't think I'd have learned the sweetness of sacrifice, the pangs that can accompany joy, or the elation that can come with small steps forward without you.  Most importantly, you have expanded my understanding of God's love as I've been amazed at the depth of joy I have in your growth and in your delighting in beauty and the good gifts of life.  Often I think, "If I feel this so intensely, how much more must God delight over His children."  I think you've made me a better child.

Thank you!  I love each of you with all my heart.
  Mom

Thoughts on working

How do you evaluate (or value) your work? This is on my mind right now as I evaluate student term papers and see the annual gap between students who take instruction and requirements to heart and students who don't.  It's obvious pretty quickly what a person values by what he or she brings to the table with work.

For some, the measure of value is money.  Do I put effort into something that isn't going to enhance my earning potential or professional reputation?  As an English teacher, I'm painfully aware of this standard in my students.  Many opt for minimal effort because they won't "need" writing skills, or so they think.

Closely related to pay is the "grade", which is essentially the measure another person puts on your work.  This is part of a good reputation, and isn't something to be dismissed lightly, but it won't necessarily carry you through working with integrity in situations where no one is going to give you any feedback.

Some folks are perfectionists.  They aren't satisfied unless their efforts yield a flawless or faultless result.  It's awfully hard to sustain perfectionism in every area, though, since we're finite.  Granted, some can do better/last longer than others, but I haven't know any perfectionists who haven't crashed and burned at some point along the way.

There is a balance I've been aiming for over the past few years, and it's closely tied to a model of growth and Biblical evaluation.  Paul says in Colossians, "And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord..." (3:23)  The point of value here is my heart. The emphasis is on perspective, not performance.  This doesn't allow room for apathy, or blowing things off, but it does allow for the reality of human shortcomings.  My "heartily" working with our checkbook isn't nearly as easy or satisfying as my "heartily" writing a book review.  However, the value is in the Evaluator - God views my work and sees the effort in context of my giftings and responsibilities.  And there's room for me to accept that, in some areas, I'm never going to be excellent in terms of performance compared to other people.  But, that doesn't make my work less valuable or unimportant in the perspective of eternal value. 

So, I'd better get back to work!

Meditations on Mercy

"The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."
          The Merchant of Venice  Act 4, scene 1


  We went to see Les Miserable yesterday and it was everything it had promised to be, as least as far as we were concerned.  It was a dark story in so many ways, with the depravity and cruelty of men front and center throughout the entire story.  The director and actors created a number of memorable moments, with Fantine's song "I Dreamed a Dream" being promoted as perhaps the most haunting. What has lingered in my mind, though, is the mystery and tragedy of Javert. 

  The theme of mercy, as everyone knows, is strong in this story.  It's not a Romanticized vision of mercy, though.  Those who receive mercy still struggle, still face injustice, still have pain and loneliness.  The transforming power of mercy is evident in the way it leads to life.  Mercy in Jean Valjean compells him to protect and help, to see the need in others rather than just his own need, and to grapple with the hard choices between doing what is right and doing what is expedient.  He learns to love because he is a man who has received mercy, but that transformation wasn't easy. He had to relinquish the very things that had defined him - his victimization, his anguish, his suffering.  In laying those things down, he finds his way forward in doing what good he can for others. Through this, he comes to love.  And it is this love which ultimately frees him from the fear of Javert.

   Javert's refusal of mercy is so hard for me to grasp.  How can a man stare mercy and love in the face and turn away to his own death?  This is where I think the story is the most profound.  The scope and depth of this refusal is in plain sight so we can't miss the reality of what's happening.  We can't ignore the consequences.  Javert doesn't go out as a strong individualist that we can admire.  He dies a pitiable man.  We don't rejoice at his defeat because he's a bad guy.  We hope, up until the last moment, that he'll change his mind, that he'll receive the mercy extended to him.  The choice, finally, is between life and death - a choice he sees very clearly.  His final refusal of mercy was, for me, the most heart-wrenching moment in the movie.  It took my breath away.

  I'm glad Javert's choice wasn't the last moment of the movie.  The last image in my mind is Valjean's prayer of blessing at the end of his life. This is mercy's work - to impart life.  And I find myself hoping that those seeing the film who, like Javert, might be on the precipice of choice will not follow his direction, but will, instead, open up to life, receiving and extending mercy.

Ten Things Good Teachers Know

Did you have a great teacher somewhere along the way?  I've been blessed with a few.  I've also had some real duds.  I've been thinking about the differences between really good teachers and mediocre ones, and here's one of my lists. (I'll have a longer entry later.)

10. Good teachers know they never leave work - or recognize that work never leaves them. :)

9.  Good teachers aren't afraid of students' questions.

8. A good teacher recognizes that the moment of achievement for a student should far outweigh the times of frustration.

7. Good teachers can patiently repeat and review.

6. Good teachers try to pinpoint and foster the creative strengths of students.

5. Good teachers are willing to say "I don't know;" followed by "I'll try to find out."

4. A good teacher is willing to say "I was wrong.  Here's the correction."

3.  A good teacher has a lively curiosity and is always learning.

2.  Good teachers are passionate about their subjects.

1. Good teachers care about the individuals they teach every single year! 

Dignity and Beauty

This past week I took my mom to see a new doctor.  As we entered the office, we heard unusual sounds coming from the waiting room.  An elderly woman in a wheelchair was making, for want of a better description, animal sounds - growling, yelping, screeching.  As unnerved as my mom was, she took my arm and went on in to be seated and wait for her appointment.  It was clear that the woman in the waiting room was a stroke victim.  As the next few minutes went by, I gained an appreciation for the power of love and devotion in action.

There were two other women with her - a relative and a caregiver.  They were engaging her in conversation, checking with her to make sure they were correctly interpreting her sounds.  The caregiver was carefully feeding her bits of soft banana (she had no teeth) and cleaning her mouth as she finished chewing each bite.  She would say, "That's good, isn't it?"  and "I'm glad you like this banana."  In many ways, it was reminiscent of a mother with a child - articulating and interpreting an experience for someone who was non-verbal.  After a bit, the old lady waved at my mom and "spoke" to her as well, and mom, always a people person, greeted her with a "good morning!" 

I had time to observe these ladies closely in the few minutes we had together in that waiting room.  The caregiver and the relative had taken time to prepare her for this appointment.  She was in clean clothes, and her grey hair had been pulled back and a tidy hair-piece (bun) placed on top.  She didn't have much hair anymore, but I guessed that they had tried to arrange it in the way she used to wear it.  She had real shoes on - not slippers.  Most impressive to me, though, was her confidence.  Even though she couldn't talk anymore, she was still mentally active and wanted to be engaged with those around her.  More outstanding than that, though, was the dignity that she had, even as an incapacitated person.  The careful attention to the details of her care helped convey that.

 A quick glance through that waiting room that morning would not have revealed anything particularly outstanding, but witnessing the love and care extended to this old woman was like witnessing an unexpected rainbow - delightful and beautiful.  She will be in my mind for a long time.

The Stories We Live

  As an educator, I'm devoted to nurturing the love of good stories.  As a mom, I've read countless stories to my children.  As a person, I love getting lost in a good story myself. Readers and non-readers alike love a good story. 
   Much has been written about the benefits of story in nurturing virtue and imagination in our children. There's another benefit as well.  Being steeped in story gives us a framework for how we view our own lives.  People who see life as a story are able to see themselves in the context of something greater than themselves.  How is this a benefit?
   Every good story must have a plot, and the core of plot is conflict.  Conflict stems from a problem - either internal, external, or a combination.  It can be conflict with something that has a resolution (finding the thief) or conflict with something unresolvable (like the evils of war).  Either way, it is imperative that the main character meets the conflict in a way that we can relate to at some level.  It must be believable, and, in a good story, it should encourage us in our dealings with conflict.
  Beyond just encouraging us, though, a recognition of plot allows us to move through life without being constantly surprised by difficulties.  These are the things that can move life forward if we meet them well, or bring us to a standstill if we don't.  Knowing that problems are part of the "story" of life can give us a measure of grace and strength as we move forward.  Knowing that there is a next chapter and, finally, a resolution allows us to live in hope.  And knowing that we are just one in a cast of thousands in this great story teaches us to live with humility with others.

  In The Two Towers, as the main character Frodo is struggling against despair, his companion, Sam, puts it in perspective for him with these words:
            " It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. They meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand.  I know now. Folk in those stories has lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something."

  Sam helps Frodo understand that the dark moment isn't the culmination of the story.  And that's a life-giving perspective.
   

Summer has finally arrived! It's been a long, difficult year and I'm so very grateful for this season of rest.  I began enjoying vacation this morning by picking up a new novel - Jayber Crow by Wendall Berry.  It has that lovely slow pace of Southern storytelling with lingering passages detailing nature and human nature.  This one will be in my mind all day, I can tell.

    The surface of the quieted river, as I thought in those old days at Squires Landing, as I think now, is like a window looking into another world that is like this one except that it is quiet.  Its quietness makes it seem perfect. The ripples are like the slats of a blind or a shutter through which we see imperfectly what is perfect.  Though that other world can be seen only momentarily, it looks everlasting.  As the ripples become more agitated, the window darkens and the other world is hidden.  As I did not know then but know now, the surface of the river is like a living soul, which is easy to disturb, is often disturbed, but, growing calm, shows what it was, is, and will be.

I'll be paying more attention to the beauty around me.

Getting Sober

Last night we were studying Romans 12, a very familiar chapter to me. Paul admonishes the Christians to have a "sober" view of themselves; to not think more highly of themselves than they should, but to recognize and energetically use the gifts they have been given. My thoughts at the time focused on the gifts, but the early morning hours brought a new direction to my thinking.

When Paul is listing the gifts and encouraging the people to be diligent in using them for mutual benefit, he never mentions that they should evaluate the success of their gifts. Instead, he follows the list with this statement - "Let love be without hypocrisy."

I'm afraid I do not have a "sober" view of myself. You see, when I speak, whether teaching or exhorting, or when I give, I expect to see change right away. I expect my words to open the doors of understanding and obedience, my gifts to build up and improve situations. I expect to be as God, who spoke and things came into existence. What arrogance! What a deluded view of myself!

God is a good, and He is patient. While He can (and did) speak things into existence right away, He also sovereignly presides over long stretches of time where the work is done quietly and behind the scenes. Like nine months of developing humans. Like years growing a redwood. Like hundreds of years for the fullness of time for Christ to come in His incarnation.

So while I am called to use the gifts He's given, I am also called to love the people He's placed in my life. I'm not to worry over whether or not they are responding appropriately to me and my gifts. I am called to let the results rest with the One who gives growth, who effects change, who brings life from death.

I'm praying for a more sober year this year.

It's a Celebration!

Today I finished baking my favorite Christmas treat - pecan mini-tarts! With so many treats surrounding us this time of year, why in the world do I keep baking? (Especially when I'm fighting a losing battle with my waistline!) Well, here's the long and short of it.

When Rick and I were first married, we decided that we wanted to be intentional about family traditions. We didn't want to accumulate baggage or obligations - we wanted to choose things which were meaningful and would provide teaching and nurturing for our future children. Over the years, we've settled into those traditions which mark us as a family. Not too surprisingly, our Christmas traditions especially seem to highlight food. But this isn't just because we like to eat!


When Christ was speaking to the people, He said, "I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly." (John 10:10) Life, joy, abundance, gifts, overflow, beauty, and music are purposely highlighted during this season in order to remind ourselves and our family that Christ's incarnation [leading to his perfect life and sacrifice ]brought us into God's abundant grace and salvation.

One of my gifts to my family each season is an abundance of favorite foods. (Did you realize how central food and meals are to God's family? That's a topic for another blog!) Each year I have to take the time to shop, schedule, and make items that require more effort than I normally put into cooking. It's a gift of love; each personal favorite is included on the dessert table. And, when the children were young, they were part of the preparation process as they planned and packaged gifts for others.

As you move into these final days before Christmas, my prayer is that you and your family will experience the abundant love and goodness of God revealed in Christ. Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Renewal

I've always wanted to be one of those women who aged gracefully, who stayed mentally sharp and energetic in her autumn years. I don't want to chant a daily litany of aches and pains. To that end, I've tried to make choices along the way that would foster that kind of lifestyle. Curve balls do come our way sometimes, though. These are reminders that I am not ultimately in control of life.

As always, God's Word pushes me to reconsider my perspective on things. In 2 Corinthians 4:16 I read, "Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day."

This year I've been introduced to my thyroid and four little glands around the thyroid. Mine aren't working as they should, resulting in a severe Vitamin D deficiency, energy depletion, insomnia, joint aches, and early hints of osteoporosis. My capabilities seem to be diminishing as the demands in life are increasing! As my bones and joints begin to weaken and I'm not able to pursue the physical activity at the level I'd like, I need to redirect my attentions to the strengthening that comes through these things that stretch my faith. I'm in far more need of "weight bearing" exercises to strengthen my soul which is eternal! And God, in His mercy, continues to give me opportunities in the lab of faith.

So, thyroid issues and threats of osteoporosis may slow down the "outward man", but my prayer is that the loveliness of the Spirit may become more a part of my day-to-day life.

Not what you might expect

I can only add my heartfelt "Amen" to this post over at John Piper's blog.

Only Human

"I'm only human" we'll say when we want to explain why we can't do something. And it's not a lame excuse - it's true! Oddly enough, though, most women I know may say this but not really accept it. We often carry a lot of guilty feelings about the things we can't do, like make everyone happy, stop our children from suffering disease and hurt, pray for all the needs we know about on a consistent basis, and so many other things. We even kick against our finitude when we are physically incapable of doing the ordinary tasks of life. How can we know contentment and glorify God in our "not doing"?

One of my favorite sonnets is by John Milton, the author of the incredible Paradise Lost. When he discovered that he was going blind, he was heartsick. He had a profound faith and had been sure that God had given him his talent for writing so that he could serve God with it. How could he do anything significant if he was blind? How could that gift be of any use at all if he couldn't see what his hand tried to produce? Before he was completely blind, he penned this great sonnet.

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my maker, and present
My true account, lest he, returning, chide.
'Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?'
I fondly ask; but Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: 'God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state
Is kingly - thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

That last line always stops me in my tracks. While being busy may feel more productive to me, it isn't always my calling. There are seasons where I "stand and wait". This, too, is good.

For moms with so many responsibilities, learning to "wait" and "rest" is an extremely hard assignment. You can read an excellent meditation on that here.

Refreshment - Elizabethan style

Rick and I are actually on vacation! What a sweet time of renewal for both of us. He found a wonderful B&B - Anne Hatheway's Cottage - in Staunton. We enjoyed a lively and intense performance of Hamlet last night at Blackfriar's Theatre (constructed inside like the Globe). The crowd was boisterous and the players were beyond energetic, performing songs before and during the interval as well as putting on a fast-paced performance of the play. I was intrigued by their choice of lighting - they keep the lights up during the whole play so it's like daylight. The dynamic this created between the audience and the players was fascinating. I was expecting to be distracted by the fact that I could see both the actors and the audience, but the experience was much the opposite. I loved having the panorama of characters in my field of vision (unlike the movie editions) and the audience involvement was high. Maybe this accounted for some of the actor's energy!
This morning we enjoyed cool mountain breezes in the breakfast/great room. Now we're taking the time for some quiet reading/writing after our morning walk through the cemetery. ☺ I'm in the rocker by one of the windows under the eaves with a cup of green tea. Quiet - how refreshing!