Spring Lesson

 

 

Leaning over, Max dug his little hands in the dirt and created a hole for the "punkin'" seeds. As he placed the marker in the ground, and stood there for a moment, I could just feel what he was thinking. And then, in his sweet little voice, he said it...

 

"Mommy. Why the punkin' not coming out? It's too dark in dare. Is it O.K.? It need da sun. Right?"

 

 

Taking a deep breath, wiping away tears, I told him that the darkness is helping the seed. It is protecting it as it waits to grow. And then, because of the sunshine and water, it will start to grow... But that it takes time.

 

Standing there, as the bright sunshine fell on my darling son (and on those punkin' seeds) I actually listened to my words.

 

Listened to my heart....

 

Remembered that we are a people who repeatedly say "from death into life"....

 

Remembered that the promise of the cross is hope. Life. Growth... 

 

And so, in the meantime, while we are waiting for that punkin' to grow, waiting for the sunshine and water to nurture, we will continue on with LIFE.

 

Joyfully.

 



Comfort. Food.

     As the cold mid-winter wraps around my bones, it is no wonder that I look to satisfying food to help me break the chill. It is why soups, stews, and chowders have been filling up my pots and soothing all of our bellies around here. (Ahem. and WHY we also need to be more diligent about exercise. Oh dear.)
     

Chicken Vegetable soup

     However, there is another warmth that I have clung to recently.... that of friends and family. My dear friend Whitney, who had sweet baby Molly on December 20th, knows just how to comfort. 


     On Tuesday, after I dropped Joe at school (and said a prayer that he would have a wonderful day) Max and I headed to Whitney's for the day. To spend time in her company is healing and feels like home.  As we sipped coffee and ate cinnamon muffins, I talked her ear off about my hopes and fears and concerns about my Joe. Oh, he's doing o.k. at school, but there is still that nagging pull at this mama's heart that says... something isn't connecting. Whitney has know Joe while in the womb, so I trust her vision and perception. And doesn't it help to talk through things with others who know us... especially ones who will be honest? The ones who say, "well, i DO remember when..." or "hmm. i see why you are scared". 


     It was then that it hit my heart like a sword. I know that no one else has the answers, but dear GOD how good it feels when someone is willing to LISTEN. To offer comfort in the form of a hug or words, or a simple, "but you know that we love him, right?"


     Isn't that what God is whispering too? "You know that I love him, right?" Despite the quirkiness? Despite the quietness? Despite the confusing array of symptoms that "aren't quite right"? I need to listen harder to that whispering. My worry has caused me to feel so paralyzed at times. Paralyzed and scared. I look in the mirror and don't recognize who that person is looking back at me... This person who whispered quiet prayers and not-so-quiet prayers to God BEGGING for a child. SO. This child. This one that is my first, my gift, my world.. needs me to continue to look to God for guidance. To look to God for comfort. To never give up. To possibly find an answer to this puzzle of social awkwardness and yet moments of incredible insight and care and concern for others. These days of being uncertain are all part of the journey. I know that. But oh. How rocky this journey sometimes is!


     And that is why I am grateful for the gifts that I see around me. Snuggling with a new baby, laughing like crazy at Max's silliness, talks with a genuine friend, and yes, the food that is from His bounty.


     I also wanted to feed Whitney and her family, so while she took the baby to the doctor and while Max played at my feet, I made them a steaming pot of potato bacon chowder. I tweaked this recipe a little, since I didn't add the cheese. I did, however, blend about half of the soup to make it creamier, since there was no milk or cream... So delicious.


     (After all, I had to feed Whitney after she helped to feed my heart.... It was the very least I could do.)  


    And here is a picture of sweet Molly.... God's gracious gift indeed....

Sharing here today:

31 Days ~ For Life {Day 1}

"The promotion of the culture of life should be the highest priority in our 

societies...If the right to life is not defended decisively as a condition for all other rights of the person, all other references to human rights remain deceitful and illusory." 

Pope John Paul II

I believe that most people I know would say that I am a passionate person. I love my family and friends and my faith with an intensity that can overwhelm people and probably puts them off a bit. If your aren't careful, I may give you an unwanted hug or squeal a little too loud when I am excited for you. 


This passion, however, comes at a price. My heart is forever on my sleeve and I get deeply hurt and very troubled about many things. 


But honestly, the one thing that has always gripped my heart and soul with passion .... is the plight of the unborn children of the world.

Even our wonderful nation, the one that I call home, and the one that claims to be one of the most developed nations of the world is failing. Failing to recognize that it is the place of one of the world's worst holocausts.... We have allowed an entire generation to become non-existent because of two Supreme Court cases that should never have been upheld. (And the woman who brought it about? Jane Roe? Well. She regrets her decision. Painfully so. )


Over the next month, as I join in with a blog-link party, I am going to blog about this cause that I feel so passionately about. 


Let me be clear, because I recognize the passion on both sides of this issue, and have been caught up in some painful, heated discussions, I want people to feel safe about talking about this:


We should never condemn a woman for her choice ~ this is not our role.
We should never allow anger to enter in our discussion ~ that is fruitless.
We should never forget that healing and reconciliation are possible ~ our God is bigger than our failings.


SO.


We should continue to pray for those women contemplating abortion, and for their babies.
We should continue to pray for all of those women who chose abortion and for their children.
We should continue to ask for guidance on how to live in a world where it is legal to end a human life.... 
We should contine to bring awareness to this tragedy that is hurting women. And men. And children. 


With all that we know, with all the advances that we have made, how can we remain silent about this?! We need to raise our voices for the ones who have no voice.


Won't you join with me in praying about this, and possibly thinking of ways to fight this? 


Here is the link to The Entire 31 Days Community, a party that I am a little late attending, but attending nonetheless.  It is where you can blog about something that you are passionate about. Be sure to check out the many others who are putting words to their passions. 


(A big Hat Tip to my blogger friend, Misty, who is just a little more with it than I am... as I am following up on her suggestion to blog for 31 days. Please be sure to check out her blog as well!)

Heartquakes...Changing and shifting of a plan

     I find it interesting (and scary) how my life seems to shift and settle, shake and ease. Just when I think that I am headed in a certain direction or down a certain path, I find that I need to veer off and go a completely different way. It has happened once again…this time regarding Joe’s schooling. Yesterday, when the physical shaking of the earth happened, Joe and I were on the top floor of his new school. And as the ground shook, my heart was also going through some shaking of its own…..

     At the end of last year, I was absolutely certain that I would be home with Joe and began to form a curriculum. This blog was started. I spent hours, no, H-O-U-R-S on the Internet, talking with friends, worrying, and crying to my husband about what we should do. God bless my husband and his ability to shift so easily (even though this particular trait is often a cause of frustration) because he was/is so willing to decide together what the best option would be. So. Homeschooling it was. I was at peace. It was going to be a fabulous year. We were planning and reading and beginning to find a rhythm.

     Then, Joe handed me his yearbook from Pre-K and said, “Mommy. Don’t get mad. But I want to try to go here. You get to go to church, you know. And pray in CLASS.” 

GULP.

“Here” was a Catholic School where I had taught for a year.

“Here” was a place that I knew to be nurturing and faith-filled.

“Here” brought back a whole host of feelings that I had squashed for so long…..

     Basically, I left the school to adopt baby number two, but this didn’t come to fruition because our life savings was stolen by a family member in a Ponzi scheme. (This incident in our family is known as “the great deception”. More on that later.) The most important point is that leaving that school continues to be the biggest, most painful regret of my life. But if it can help Joe succeed? Well. We decided that we should at least give it a try.

     So now, somehow, it is as if we are coming home again. The warm embraces from fellow teachers, or parents of children whom I taught were so healing. So redemptive. I cannot believe that despite Joe’s quirky ways, anxiousness, and sensory issues, they are willing to work with him. Work with us. Help us through this time in our lives. He is more excited than I have seen him in a while and yet knows the task ahead of him. It is a challenging curriculum and at times the environment might be a little too loud. But he is willing to try, and that in itself is a tremendous improvement.

My prayer for this year, is going to be this, from Philippians 4:6-7

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

     I know that once school is back in session, I will feel the lack of his presence in a new and profound way. After all, I was going to get to spend EVERY DAY, ALL DAY with him. I had started to make connections with other wonderful homeschooling mom’s. (And truly, my extroverted self is already thinking about what other people think about this decision. I hear the whispers of "she couldn't do it" or "she didn't have the nerve".  How crazy is that?)

But I also have to remember what my job as a mother really is:

I am still giving him roots and wings.

I am still his first and best teacher.

I am still going to nurture and teach and explore.

     It’s just that the time has changed a little. I do not regret a single moment that I have had with him this summer, and I am ever so grateful for that time.  I am also quite aware of how blessed we are to have a whole host of people working with us to help mold and shape this young mind and heart.  And if I have realized anything on this journey of motherhood, I need a whole host of others!

     So even when earth and hearts shake or especially when I am beginning to be filled with worry, I must remember to do what I tell Joe to do:

Pray about it.

Recognize how glorious it is to be alive.

Remember to give thanks and allow yourself to experience grace.

(And Joe, that chair in the corner, the one that we set for you? It will always be waiting for you to fill it up with your presence. Our "heartroom" that we put in place? Yes, that is still there for you, too.)

...For the bruises and scrapes

"Promise me you will always remember. You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

 (Christopher Robin to Pooh)

~A.A. Milne

It's been hot here.

Really hot.

I-don't-want-to-move-or-go-outside-hot.

But yesterday, Joe and I needed to get out of the house. When daddy came home and after dinner was done, we took a much needed bike ride around the neighborhood last evening. (At least when you are flying down a hill it feels a little cooler.....)

Towards the end of the ride he glanced back and said, "Come oooooooon mommy. Race ya."

Well.

Challenge accepted.

So we raced to the end of the street. Fast. And he made it there first. As I turned in the cul-de-sac..... He slammed on brakes with his big grin.

And then it happened.

He slammed too hard.

Bike wobbling out of control.

Face in panic.

Body meets pavement.

Bruises.

Scrapes.

Wounded.

He looked up at me and said, "Mommy. Get the star box. I need some healing."

Ah yes. The star box. The one that holds precious balms and bandages and healing.....

So sitting on the counter, we chatted.
And I helped to soothe.
To calm.
To heal.

With words and prayers and cool water.
Balm.

Remembering today that we all need healing. Whether we are bruised on the outside, or deep on the inside. Oh how it helps knowing that there is someone there to help. To listen. To soothe. Remembering the sufferings of Jesus. His mother. His friends.

After saying the Hail Mary and remembering Jesus' suffering, he hopped from the counter. Renewed.

Turning to me he said, "Thanks mommy. But I do have one question. Do I still win even though I fell?" 

Yes Joe. Oh yes. And the fact that you asked for help, picked yourself up, and said prayers? Yes. You won.

(And so did I.)

Sharing at Ann's place today: