friday fun

A few things that made me smile this week:

Online silliness:

• Most ridiculous/hilarious product ever.  It's not what it looks like.
• For when you just need a little chuckle: Catalog Living (the funny lives of people in your catalogs). Thank you to my great SIL for pointing me to this one.
• YouTube video: Katy Perry Firework - the REAL video

Just for fun:

• Great time-waster (online sketching) for those days when all you have to do is stare at the computer. I even tried praying in color with it.

Funny AND thoughtful:

• Jamie the Very Worst Missionary's post on being a parent: Carniverous Turtles, Bush Babies and other spiritual things.
• Rachel Held Evans's posts: 13 Things that Make Me a Lousy Evangelical and 13 Things that Make Me a Lousy Progressive.  I can relate to both.

A little homey goodness:

• Rustic Apple Pie.  With vanilla ice cream rather than cheddar cheese.  Mmmmmm.  I've wanted to try one of these apple pies without a pie pan for a while now but just finally did it yesterday.  If it didn't require chopping apples, I could see this becoming a habit.  Maybe next time I'll actually try the cheddar cheese!
• Signs of spring:



Our tulip bulbs are sprouting!

Kid moments:

• A neighbor friend (girl) came over to play with My Girl, and they played with cars and built tracks and towers with blocks - no boy in sight.  Afterwards, they performed a puppet show about a princess, her wizard father and her pet penguin, including a song about why penguins are the best pets.  Princesses, penguins AND cars - that makes me happy.
• I helped out at My Boy's preschool choir this week. When his dad asked him if he liked having me in his class, he said, "No." Very matter-of-fact-ly.  And he refused to change his mind.  Now, I know this would crush some moms, but it just made me laugh.  So Very Honest! 
• My Girl's choir teacher told My Man that The Girl was quite funny telling all the kids how to do their parts (for a musical they're working on), "but she has the talent to back it up!"  A Diva in the making?  Oh my.  Once again, how did This Girl come from me, the timid wallflower?  Ah, the wonderful vagaries of genetics! 

Things to try:

• We're going to try to make this salt dough Lenten Sprial Wreath.  We'd love to buy this one, but it's a little pricey (understandably so - it's beautiful and handmade), so we'll try a homemade version this year.  My last experience with salt dough was a bit disastrous.  Let's hope this one (which is simpler) will work better!
• Oh my goodness, these Scrappy Hearts are so dang cute!  I'm sure My Girl would love them, but I'm not sure I have cool enough fabric for such things.  And most of my crafting time (which hasn't been much lately) is spent on more *useful* things.  But maybe I could make something just for fun. 

So what made you smile this week?

in defense of justin

I know that this statement will open me up to extreme eye-rolling and ridicule.  But one of my new year's intentions was "that I will speak out loud what I'm thinking" more often.  And though a blog post isn't really "out loud," it's close enough!  So here it is:

I like Justin Bieber.

There, I said (wrote) it.  Commence with the eye-rolling and ridicule. 

I'll be the first to admit that I am no music aficionado.  I know very little about music, though I know enough to know that Justin Bieber is no Mozart.  I make no claims that his music is great art.  I have read much in recent weeks about how his infantile pop music is corrupting the young ears of a new generation, and I have read from proud parents about their kids who "know better."  Well, My Girl and My Boy don't know better.  And neither do I.  What we know is that our limited experience of his music (the 2 songs we have on the ipod) is just plain fun!

photo © 2010 Philip Nelson (via: Wylio)It's our favorite music for family dance parties.  Yes, it's silly.  No, it's not ground-breaking musicianship.  But it's fun!  And I don't worry about my kids repeating the lines.  Now, maybe there's other music of his that is just plain awful.  I don't know.  But the fluffy pop music that I've heard is good enough for me and my (apparently) musically challenged kiddoes. 

And The Bieb held his own on the Grammy's.  Better than Usher, really.  And definitely Jaden Smith (what was that about?).

And if My Girl was aware enough of pop culture to realize that there's a Justin movie out right now and she really, really wanted to go - I'd take her.  And I'd enjoy it.

So my family and I will stand proud against the tide of scorn and say: We Like Justin!

But I am glad he finally got a haircut.  My goodness, that hair was ridiculous. 

Oh, and I also kinda like Taylor Swift. (I know, I know!)

coexist?

photo © 2006 Patrick Byrne (via: Wylio)
On the way to work this morning I followed a car with one of the above COEXIST bumper stickers.  You've probably seen them.  They seem to be very popular here (maybe everywhere?), but I never thought much about them until today.  I understand and support the impulse behind them - peace with one another, not war.  Even (especially) with those who are different.  Even (especially) with those who have different faiths.  But I have a problem with the word "coexist."

Dictionary.com defines the word:

1. to exist together or at the same time.
2. to exist separately or independently but peaceably, often while remaining rivals or adversaries: Although their ideologies differ greatly, the two great powers must coexist.

And there's my problem - "separately...independently...often while remaining rivals or adversaries."  While coexistence may be a necessary first step, it's hardly where I hope we end up.  Existing separately still allows us to live in our own sheltered enclaves, never trying to understand the "other."  Existing separately doesn't acknowledge the worth of the other.  Existing separately doesn't allow us to learn from each other.  Existing separately doesn't make room for reconciliation.  Existing separately is a step in the right direction, but it isn't good enough.

Peace - true peace - is more than lack of war.

But sometimes when I look at the news, even coexistence seems too lofty a goal.

Let me be clear: I am not suggesting we should subsume our own identities into a large mushy collective identity that waters down what we hold dear.  I, for one, can't water down my love for Jesus.  But I can value each person as a child of God.  I can get to know people who are different, seeking understanding, compassion, love.  I can listen to and learn from people of different faiths.  Yes, learn from.  We Christians don't have a monopoly on God, after all.

So what do I do about this yearning for more than coexistence?   What more should I do in my own sheltered little world where I am too often surrounded by people who look like me?

I don't know.  It's something I'm thinking about.  Praying about.  I know that I need to teach my children to love all people, but I also know that if I don't act that out, the impact isn't going to be very great.  I can study and believe all I want, but if it stays in my head, what, then, does it matter?

I'm glad that there are people working for peace and reconciliation on a grander scale than I can or know how to do.  I can support them, such as here or here.  But I have responsibility to do more than sign petitions or give money (though those are good things, too!).  I need to seek out new opportunities for community-building and peacemaking locally.  It's too easy to stay in my own little enclave.

But what about that bumper sticker?  I think there should be another bumper sticker with another word, but I'm having a hard time coming up with a good word.  There must be one!  The best I can think of is "Join With," but that doesn't have a good ring to it. 

Yesterday, My Girl read to me the Aesop fable "The Lion and the Mouse" as told and illustrated by Eric Carle.  At the end of the story, Carle wrote: "Friends come in all shapes and sizes." 

And colors.
And languages.
And income brackets.
And countries.
And faiths.

Friends.  Maybe that's a better word.

this small life

photo by IJammin, 2009

It's no secret to anyone who knows me, or has ever read the results of any personality test I've taken, that I struggle with insecurity.  Not in a life-debilitating, I-can't-make-a-move kind of way.  More in an I-worry-I-won't-do-the-right-thing-and-I'll-never-find-my-place-or-amount-to-much kind of way.  Now don't you worry - I recognize the faulty foundation for these feelings.  I know that my life matters.  I know that what I do is important.  I know that I am cared for.  I KNOW that I am loved, just as I am (do you hear the music?). 

But sometimes I feel kind of small.

I went to a pretty prestigious university (Go Blue Devils!).  Many of my classmates are doctors and lawyers and politicians and activists and artists and teachers.  One of the guys who lived down the hall from me is even the Canadian Ryan Seacrest (weird).  I also went to seminary.  Many of those classmates are professional ministers working in all kinds of settings.  And the classmates I envy the most?  Those are the ones who are stay-at-home moms or dads. 

But I am not any of those things.  And that is OK.  I know it is.

But sometimes I feel kind of small.

Like maybe I've squandered some of this life that was given to me with its education and middle-class American advantages.  Not all of it, but some of it.

My life is small.  I have a small family, a small home, a small job, a small community, a small blog :). 

Shouldn't I be doing something big?  Not necessarily newsworthy, but life-changing, nonetheless.  Something better, more helpful, more meaningful.  Something more worthy.

But life is not measured in worthiness.  It is measured in grace.  Time is not measured in big.  It is measured in moments.

Small is not bad.

Small is a fluttering butterfly.
Small is a bright smile.
Small is a new dance move.
Small is an unexpected gift.
Small is a full-bodied guffaw.
Small is dust dancing in the sun.
Small is a spirit lifted.
Small is a shared experience.
Small is I-see-you.
Small is a tenuous connection.
Small is a hand held.
Small is hope renewed.

Small is not bad.  Small, in fact, can be very, very good.

I'm learning to appreciate the small.  Little by little.  Small by small.

the best valentine gift

Today is Valentine's Day.  I used to hate this day.  A girlfriend and I even had an anti-Valentine's "Eat Pink" party in college one year.  I don't hate the day anymore, though I still view it with skepticism.  The massive amounts of money spent on jacked-up flowers and candy just seems silly.  My Man and I rarely do anything significant for Valentine's because it's just not how we roll.  But you know what?  Celebrating love is a worthwhile endeavor, whatever the day.  And making some special family memories is good, important even, for all of us.  So for today, I will squash my skepticism and work on celebrating our family.

We did make Valentines for the Kiddoes classmates, of course.  But we didn't buy the boxed Valentines.  Oh no... that would be too easy!  Instead both kids and I made some crayon rocks for The Boy's preschool friends, and printed out some online valentines to go with them.  So cute!  Though I'm sure the preschoolers won't really care.  It was a fun project, and I think the crayons turned into beautiful little works of art. 

For The Girl's Valentines, I found online Valentines that were made in support of the organization Love146, which fights child sex trafficking.  So The Girl picked her favorite Valentines to print (really much cuter than store-bought ones), and we made a donation to Love146 rather than to Wal-mart. 

On the homefront, we did have some small plans for the day.  I say "did" because one of our plans was to go out to McAllister's tonight (kids eat free night!), but The Boy woke up throwing up.  So no going out for us.  Maybe we'll have Chinese take-out instead. 

Still, we plan to continue with our Valentine Hunt.  Yes, hunt.  This was all The Girl's idea.  A couple weeks ago she started making Valentines for each of us and then hid them for us to find on Valentine's Day.  Apparently, she was worried we wouldn't be able to find them because she also made little cut-out hearts that she taped to the wall or object near where she hid them!  So The Man and I have also made Valentines to hide, and hopefully everyone will be well enough this afternoon for our first (annual?) Valentine Hunt. 

My Valentines are simple affairs - just Hershey Miniatures that I wrapped in colored paper (one color for each family member).  I wrote on each paper something that I love about that person.  That's it.  Easy-peasy.  But who doesn't love chocolate and little love notes?!  Well, actually I know someone who doesn't love chocolate (I do not understand), but there's no one like that in this family!

Our Valentine's Day will not include flowers or jewelry or a fancy dinner.  But it will be spent with the ones I love most, in sickness and in health.  And that's the best gift of all.

a sabbath saturday

Sundays are not very restful at our house.  They may have their restful moments, but on the whole, it is difficult for us to cultivate rest on a Sunday.  I imagine this is true of most church staff families, or even families who do volunteer ministry on Sundays.  Then on top of church life, Sunday is the day we try to make sure everything is ready for the beginning of the school and work week.  Not so restful. 

But Saturday...Saturday can be genuinely restful.  And this Saturday was a Sabbath Saturday for the kiddoes and me.  Our Man was away helping his family most of the day so it was just the 3 of us.  This can be a daunting prospect - me, alone with the kids, ALL day, with no plans, on a dreary day (so no sending them outside!).  I thought about dragging us out to a museum, exposing us to some culture, getting us out of the house.  But as the morning wore on, I realized I liked being home with them.  It was nice to have no agenda, no rush, no plan.  And even more surprising - no TV! 

So what does a Sabbath day look like?  For us it looked like this:

We played...and played...and played.  Dinosaurs mostly.  It's the new obsession - of both of them.  My Girly Girl is becoming less girly these days!

And we painted.  We used liquid watercolor paints and Valentine-y colors, and we each covered a sheet.  Can you guess whose is whose?  On Sunday, The Girl and I cut these into hearts to hang in our window.

And The Girl painted some coffee filters to make rainbow circles for her door.

And we made monsters and snakes and eggs and faces out of our homemade playdough.

 And we took a nap in the pillow fort. Too bad it was only a pretend nap.

And we had grilled cheese sandwiches, and we ran circles through the house, and we read books.  And eventually we took The Girl to her Girl Scout meeting and drove around for nap-time.  And after that, the sun came out!  Miraculous!  So we got to run around outside after all.  And we ended the day with at the Grandparents' house for a yummy dinner that I didn't have to prepare (and TV - finally!). 

I promise I won't turn this blog into a litany of the details of our lives, but for this day, I want to remember.  Remember what Sabbath looks like for us.  What it looks like when we (I) let go of the need to make a plan.  When our time together is more important than structuring experiences. When our only goal is to enjoy each other.  Enjoy our imaginations.  Enjoy creating.  Enjoy fun. 

Though we didn't fully rest from work, we did rest our spirits.

At the end of the day, the house was a disaster.  But did we clean it up?  No, we did not, because that would break the spirit of the Sabbath! 

what's in a name?

Choosing a name for a child - that's a biggie.  Fun, frustrating, revelatory.  I know a number of parents who chose not to choose a name until they saw the baby on the day of his/her birth.  I know a number of others who chose not to tell people the name until the day of birth for fear of the criticism they would receive.  But us - once it was decided (early on in the pregnancies) - we told everyone!  We cannot keep a secret.  Of course, we used family names, so it was probably less likely we'd get critical reactions.  Sneering at someone's mother's name or maiden name - that's a bit too rude for most!

But because we chose family names for our children, I never really looked at baby name books or considered what their names mean.  And it occurred to me yesterday as I was reading a blog post about a mom trying to choose a name for her baby that I didn't even know what my son's name means.  And his name is my name.  How did I never look this up?  All those years of finding my first name on those little name cards or license plates or cups or other silly tchotchkes.  Never did I look up my last name.  Huh.  So I checked.

And it means "Gift of Peace."  My son's name means Gift of Peace. 

And that is what he is.

Let me be clear - he is NOT a passive, always easy-going child, happy to play on his own, giving me the gift of unfettered time.  No, he is demanding - always wanting someone to play with him.  And he is emotional - breaking into screams or tears with just a look.  And he is a chatterbox.  He is not peace-full when peace is defined as calm or quiet. 

But when peace is defined as harmony, concord, freedom from anxiety - that is what My Boy is for me.  He is the one who reaches for my hand.  He is the one who giggles with such affection.  He is the one who walks through life with joy and determination, without worry.  He is the one who gives me peace.  What a Great Gift.

My Girl, on the other hand, could never be described as peaceful.  But her name means clear and bright.  And that's perfect!  For I have never known another person who was so Clear about what she thinks and feels.  I never have to wonder about it - she lets me know - the good, the bad, the ugly, the sublime.  Whether she's struggling or rejoicing, she shares it.

And Bright - yes, she is bright in the academic sense.  She does well in school and is pretty good at grasping new concepts.  But more importantly than that, she is a Bright presence in our family.  Heck, sometimes she's a supernova!  But I can always count on My Girl reaching out for life with passion.  She makes her presence known.  She shares her hopes and desires with all.  She grasps for connection with anyone in her midst.  She is my bright, fiery one.  Illuminating one.  The one who challenges me to SEE life - to see all of it.  What a Great Gift.

And then there's My Man.  I once preached his ordination sermon based around his middle name - Andrew (and it's only now that I'm struck by the oddness of me, the un-ordained one, preaching for his ordination).  But his first name - that one means "Strong One."  Which, again, is perfect.  He is our Constant One.  Our Rock.  The presence we do not doubt.  He is My Mighty One.  What a Great Gift.

And so what's in a name?  Whether by accident or design, it turns out there's a whole lot!

is God in control?

This question is too big for me.  I cannot answer it.  But here is what I see today:

• A child (14 years old) dies in Bangladesh after being accused of having an affair with a married man and sentenced to 100 lashes.
• Tear gas and molotov cocktails are used to quell protesters in Cairo.
• A boy's body is found in a canal after being abducted by his father.
• Superbowl weekend is America's biggest sex trafficking weekend.

These are just a few, very few, of the headlines today.  So is God in control?  My immediate gut response is, "I hope not." 

There is too much pain and suffering and injustice and screwed-up-ness for me to accept that God is orchestrating all of the details. 

But where, then, is God?  Where is God for these mothers whose mourning is too much to bear?  Where is God for the protesters losing their lives in the fight for justice?  Where is God for the exploited?  Where is God for the men and women, girls and boys, who face tragedies large and small that never make headlines? 

I trust, truly I do, that God is there in the midst of them all.  But is He in control?  Not of the details.  Surely not.

And yet, and yet...God is IN the details.  God is in the sly smile of a small boy.  God is in the wrinkles of an elderly couple holding hands.  God is in the rippling waves of a prairie morning.  God is in the hand reaching out to lift up.  God is in the sparkling wings of a Japanese beetle.  God is in the loud cackle of a passionate girl.  God is IN....

I don't know the right theological answers to the question of the God's control.  I have heard it said many times: "God only gives you as much as you can bear." I don't believe that. Not for a second. There are some things that are too much for us to bear.
But my God is a God who knows suffering.  Who knows rejection and betrayal and pain and death.  And so because He knows, I will trust.  Little by little I will reach for trust. 
 
I don't know how much control God has.  But I do know God cares and understands and weeps and creates and creates again.  I know that when life is too much to bear, I don't have to bear it alone.  And I know that gifts of beauty and hope and courage are still given - more than I notice. 
 
So as I continue my 1000 Gifts list, here are a few I notice today:

• a cowlick that refuses to lie down
• undaunted sparkle in blue eyes
• unexpected sunshine
• clean dishes
• hope that leads to courage (Egypt)
• bear hugs
• learning a new skill, step by step
• heat that can be turned on with a switch
• telephones to hear far-away voices
• kind words of encouragement