the world sippy cup

a few weeks ago scott and i were asked to participate in the world sippy cup competition. it was rather hysterical! the results are in. scott came in third. please check out the article below (or you can pick up the august copy of chicago magazine).

http://chicagomag.com/Chicago-Magazine/August-2008/Men-Behaving-Dadly/index.php?cp=1&si=0#artanc

we are contesting the results. we know who the number one dad truly is! we have a sign to prove it and everything!

lincoln park zoo

remember the deer that i wrote about way back in the beginning? well, that experience of looking for the deer in the woods continues on today. way back in the winter, as we looked for the deer, e's thoughts became consumed by the deer. being a contemplative sort of girl, she was filled with questions. frequently, she throws her list of questions at me, and i do my best at giving her the answers. it is challenging.

e: momma, what do the deer eat?

m: they eat grass and leaves, baby.

e: momma, where are their houses?

m: they don't have houses, babe. they live in the woods.

e: where do they sleep then?

m: they sleep in the woods. they use leaves and sticks to make little beds. (you can see her trying to wrap her 3 year old brain around this, and creating images of sleigh beds and canopy beds throughout the woods.)

e: well, what do they use for pillows?

e: and blankets, mom? what do they cover themselves with?

e: do they have nightlights and noisemakers?

you see, well e doesn't care much for bedtime, she cares a lot about being cozy. she likes things to be a specific way and has a need for order in her bedroom and in her mind. she can't just wrap her head around a deer calling the dirt its bed and its fur its blanket. and so we have this same conversation over and over again. i try, like any momma would, to help her make sense out of this. i'm just not sure she believes me. secretly, she's holding out hope that i'm wrong and that they have little deer houses with little deer beds... and pillows and blankets and maybe even a little lovie that they hold onto while sucking their hoof to help them fall asleep. just like she does.

as spring has turned to summer, the frequency of this chat has increased. we don't see many deer in the summer, so she has moved on to other animals. usually, once a day, i get asked about some animal and their living conditions, specifically questions pertaining to sleep.

e: momma, where do the birds sleep?

e: momma, how about the bunnies? do they have pillows?

i am simultaneously humored and annoyed by this line of questioning. it is adorable that she cares so much and is really trying to process the well being of other creatures. and at the same time, it is annoying because it is non-stop. (if you know three year olds, you won't judge me for using the word annoyed. i mean it in the kindest way.) just when i think we've solved the mystery of where the animals sleep, she thinks up a new animal.

i was telling scott about this line of questioning the other night over pillow-talk. he started laughing and told me that on saturday, while they were chalking on the sidewalk, she had hit him up with the same type of questions. she wanted to know about the ants. apparently she was looking for confirmation that mom knows what she is talking about. or maybe, she's given up on mom's version and has turned to daddy for the truth. (i'm telling y'all, she won't rest on this topic until we confirm her suspicions. she really wants to believe that they are cozy, safe and secure in their beds each night, blanket and all.)

and so yesterday, like a good retired science teacher would, i took my babe to the zoo. we spent the day inspecting animals. we analyzed what they had to eat and we searched for the ones that were sleeping. not a pillow or a blanket did we find, but truth be told, i still think she's still holding out hope.

btw: to make the zoo trip more exciting, i dragged along my friend holly. she's visiting from Atlanta again and was a good sport on this 95 degree day. the picture shows their snow-cone colored tongues. i can just guess that e thinks the lions get a snow cone every afternoon at about 3:00, too. her science teacher is going to hate me a few years from now.

irresistible revolution

i've been meaning to tell this story for a while, but have put it off for a variety of reasons.

a few months ago i read the book irresistible revolution by shane claiborne. it is an amazing book that chronicles how one guy is living differently, radically pursuing a lifestyle that he believes emulates the way God wants us to live.

one morning i dropped e off at pre-school and made my way to caribou coffee with d and the book in hand. i figured i could get through a chapter or two without the distraction of things that could be done at home.

i ordered my coffee, found a spot in a quiet corner, gave d some toys to keep her attention occupied and opened the book. the chapter that i was beginning was titled "extremists for love". here are some parts that i read... (it is all part of the story).

we live in an age in which people, when they hear the word christian, are much more likely to think of people who hate gays than people who love outcasts, and that is a dangerous thing.

the world has seen christian extremists who will blow up abortion clinics and dance on the doctors' graves. we have seen christian extremists who hold signs that say, "God hates fags." the world has seen christian extremists who declare war in the name of the Lamb. but where are the christian extremists for love and grace?

and then the author gives account after account of people from history that knew how to love. he tells stories of dr. king, gandhi, paul, stephen, a woman who lost her entire family in iraq. the list goes on. in each of these stories, the people showed an unbelievable commitment to love. they modeled God's grace, forgiveness and love with the actions of their lives.

as i was reading this, i became more and more excited. i liked this picture of love. it is much harder to do than what the extremists are doing, but feels right to me. it embodies the true characteristics of Christ. and then i read...

we are to love those who bomb us? we are to love george w. bush and saddam hussein? the priest led us to the cross urging us to say, "Father, forgive them for hey know not what they do." he admitted that this action is not based on logic; it is based on a love that does not make sense, a scandalous grace.

and as i read, i kept asking myself, who does God want me to love like that? is there someone in my heart that i am withholding love from? is there a situation that i could heal from this type of scandalous grace. is there someone in my life that sees the image of the extremist and runs from God because of what is being done in His name, by something that doesn't demonstrate his true passion for love? i continued to read.

look into the eyes of the ones who are hardest for you to like, and see the One you love.

i stopped dead in my tracks and put the book down. i knew instantly what i was supposed to do at that exact moment. you see, as i had been reading this section on love, i had been trying to close myself off to something else that was happening in the coffee shop while i had been reading. a man had walked in. he was dirty. he approached the counter and bought himself a coffee. he made his way over to the cream and sugar station and prepared his coffee. he turned around and scanned the coffee shop. he did it slowly, and deliberately. and while he was doing this i tried to look busy. i buried my head in my book further. i also tried to take up a little more space at my table. i moved a few of d's toys around to fully occupy the table we were sitting at. i'm not proud of any of this. as i write it out for anyone to read, a flush fills my cheeks and i am embarrassed. here i was reading this section about love. i was fascinated by the author's quest for changing the face of christian love and showing people that Jesus was the ultimate example of loving well. and all the while, i was a hypocrite.

the man slowly made his way to my table and sat down right next to me. i could feel my body language shift to a closed position. i willed the man to not look me in the eye. the man didn't look homeless, but he smelled bad, was missing several teeth and was incredibly dirty.

and then i read those words, "look into the eyes of the ones who are hardest for you to like, and see the One you love."

i grumbled with God for a minute, tended to d and then turned toward the man and said hello. the hardness of the man shifted and his face lit up a bit. what took place next was the most beautiful experience that God could have given me in that moment. the man and i had a long conversation. he told me all about the two jobs that he works- a groundskeeper for the zoo and a backroom package handler for fed-ex. he told me about his two children and how proud he was of both of them. he had been estranged from one for a while, but she had reconnected with him after having her first child. he was a beautiful human being. d started to fuss a little bit and he told me how when his son was little, he would strap him into the baby seat on the back of his bike and ride him around the neighborhood before bed each evening. he said it did wonders for his wife because he would go off to his second job and his son would be tuckered out from the ride, causing the boy to sleep soundly for his former wife. as he shared all of this with me, i felt myself soften. i could see that this man was a really loving daddy and that he was a man of compassion. and through this man's eyes, i saw the One that i love.

i can see how God used those words in that book perfectly for his timing. and while i had originally thought that the conversation would somehow bless this man, what it truly did was bless me. this man was open and demonstrated this kind of scandalous grace to me.

trinity united church of christ

a friend of mine told me a story a few weeks ago, and it has stuck with me. it creeps into my mind unexpectedly and sits there.

my friend is camia. camia is this amazing, unassuming, open, talented woman. she carries many titles- poet, children's author, harvard graduate, and teacher. i had the pleasure of getting to know her through my work with KIPP (knowledge is power program). we basically lived and breathed that school together and through all that sweat and tears, i was gifted with really knowing her. not just the camia that she puts out there for people to know, but the real deal. you know, the depth that comes from being together way too much in those really difficult circumstances.

anyways, the story:
camia has kept in contact and relationship with many of our former students. to say that she is in contact with them is actually an understatement. she takes a huge risk, but remains involved in their lives intimately. they call her in the middle of the night when they experience crisis. they show her their report cards. they ask for advice in their friendships and relationships. and in all of these circumstances she hammers home the message to them that she cares about them, that she loves them, and that what they do with their lives matters.

we went out to dinner recently. i knew that she attended barak obama's church in the city and i wanted to get her opinion on the situation. i wanted to know more about the people that call that church home- i know her and know she is a friend of Jesus, and so i wanted to see the "scandal" through her eyes.

and while camia is deep, always. you can count on the fact that she will answer your questions in an unexpected way. sometimes, while she's getting right to the heart of your question, you sit back and wonder what question she's even answering. and then, boom! she hits you right between the eyes with some profound answer that took you down a very different road, but nails your question square on the head.

and so in this conversation, she told me this story. she went through a phase where she just wasn't getting her bones out of bed each sunday to make it to church. and then she started missing it. one saturday night she was on the phone with one of the KIPPsters. somehow, the girl (we'll call her s), said she wanted to go to church with camia. camia agreed to pick her up in the morning to take her to church. the next morning came, camia drug her bones out of bed and picked s up. the pair headed off to church. s liked it so much that she wanted to go back the next week. and now it is a routine. camia makes a drive by the dearborn housing development each sunday morning on her way to church. she picks up s and any of the other kids that want to join her. from what i understand, there are a few that go each week. s likes it so much so that she's dragging along her friends, and camia now has a new motivation for meeting with God every sunday morning.


a few weeks into this routine, camia and her little friends (all middle school/early high school age) are sitting in the sanctuary, worshiping Jesus. a lady taps s on the shoulder and gently points to a bug on her shoulder. s looks down and notices a giant cockroach climbing out of her collar. she takes care of the bug and then puts her head down in her hands and begins to weep. you see, this church experience is so much bigger than we thought for s. she was going each week, and in going, she was escaping from her world. she was away from the housing project, out of the poverty that is her life, turning from the chaos and being welcomed into the arms of camia and a congregation that accepted her. s thought they accepted her because they didn't know who she really was.


and in those moments, s learned that she will never truly escape from who she is, but that she is loved by camia, the woman who pointed out the bug, her friends and a Jesus who is bigger than any cockroach you could ever imagine.

and so in the retelling of this story, camia answered my question. rather than answering me in a political way and defending the left she gave me a very different answer. camia who is not much of a political activist, and very much a heart activist, tackled my question with the language she speaks best. she lives for the language of the heart. and in doing this, she showed me that this is simply a community of believers and that the clips shown in the media limit the heart of these people. and while we can't get into rev. wright's head and explain his provocative comments, the people that worship Jesus in the seats of wright's former church are just like the rest of us. maybe better. they get the concept of acceptance- even when you don't feel worthy, they embrace compassion. and evangelism, they hit this one right out of the park. just ask s.

oh- and the new song you here by nicole c. mullen, that's for s. i think of her everytime i hear it and smile because she really is a diamond.

alcatraz

my garden feels a little bit like alcatraz these days. the potential veggies have been secured behind a maximum security bunny fence. it grieved me to have to do this- as i said, i had faith in those darn bunnies. the digging out of the half eaten plants and the re-planting did not feel joyful. i cursed the bunnies as i worked because they were robbing me of my tidy garden. i cursed them more as i battled with the chicken wire in an effort to secure my little plot of land. my hands ended up getting scratched and cut. thankfully a kind neighbor saw my struggle and offered to hold the wire roll while i went to town with the staple gun. in the end, the security measures have paid off. i've had to let go of my need for a tidy and organized garden bed- those cucumber plants don't seem to want to cooperate and they are what i'm going for after all. all of this has made me feel a little less than thrilled with the gardening process... until...


just look at that baby! it is MY first cucumber! i grew it with my own little hands, some of God's sunshine and lots of beautiful rain. isn't she beautiful???
and a pea!
and more tomatoes than one family can eat!

when i was a little girl, my family didn't really have a vegetable garden. i'm not sure why, because my mom is a huge gardener, but she always stuck with flowers. however, i have memories of being the recipients of lots of tomatoes. i can remember specific families that would gift my mom with bags of their tomato bounty. and in our home, tomato bounty meant b.l.t.'s. i kid you not, we would eat bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches for dinner almost every night for the month of august. now one might guess that this was a culinary drag. you might be thinking that i am now sick of b.l.t.'s because i was forced to consume so many as a wee one, but no, your conclusion is inaccurate. i LOVED b.l.t. month! b.l.t. month meant a break from my mom's favorite dish, the beloved casserole. i hated casseroles and thus LOVED anything that offered me relief from the one pot wonder.

and so as i look at my daily increasing number of tomatoes, i see visions of beautiful glorious bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches in my very near future. my mouth waters a little bit just sitting here anticipating them.

giddy-up!

to celebrate the 4th, my family geared up and flew to austin to visit my sister heather. heather and her family have lived in canada for most of my adult life. our opportunities to connect have been few and way too far between. since she moved back to the states a year ago, we have seen each other several times. and while i know her (she is my sister, after all) i am just now really getting to KNOW her. i am the little sister. in my eyes, she has always been beautiful- a person that i followed around and longed for relationship with. but seeing her this weekend, getting a chance to know her family, to intimately glimpse into her life, was so special. she is married to a beautiful man and has three fabulous children. and for the first time, i felt like we were able to step outside of our family dynamic and just be friends.

while there, she shared a little treasure with me. i won't write about it, but would be very willing to share if you dare to ask:) i am ever so thankful for this gift and my marriage is reaping the benefits of it already.

the missy project

back in june i attended a women's conference with my sisters, step-mom, aunt and grandmother. the day after the conference, a relative mentioned a book to my sister- the shack by william p. young. my sister read the book and immediately suggested it to many in her life. i'm one of the many.

words cannot express the power that this book has had on me. it is filled with Truth, forgiveness and an unfathomable story. it penetrated my heart in amazing ways. i see my life differently and my most valued relationship has now become more beautiful than i ever could have imagined.

while i could tell you what the book is about in more detail, i feel something in your reading would be lost in my description. i went into my experience with this book with little information. i took my sister's word that it was good, ordered it off of amazon, and read it without knowing what the story was about. since that was my experience, i would encourage each of you to do the same. it will change you.

smack!

we might need to teach this girl a few things before the dating years. she certainly likes her peas... and has a strange obsession with the edge of the table.

(mute the music on the righy side to hear the video clip)

got milk!

when i was pregnant with e, i longed to be a breastfeeding momma. but like most things in my my inital attempts at mommy hood, i fell short. we just never got into a good rhythm and after two bouts with mastitis i threw in the towel. i could write for days about my regret at not succeeding with e and the breastfeeding situation, but today's post is not about failure.

somewhere in the middle of my pregnancy with d i realized that i wanted to try breastfeeding again. it was at that time that i realized that of my own strength, i would never succeed. i enlisted the help of lots of praying mommas. i asked everyone that i knew who was into knee-mail to pray for d and i to succeed at breastfeeding. God answered my prayers and the prayers of those around me that would commit to this. i set a goal of six months. i would not quit feeding d at the breast until i had given it six months. there were many times that i wanted to throw in the towel, many nights that weakness crept in and i pleaded with God to let my babe take a bottle so that i could get a break- just for one feeding. but God knew my heart and he knew my desire to succeed at this task. He knew it so well that he neglected my pleading in moments of weakness and answered the prayer path i had set out on. i'd like to report that today marks six months, no bottles, one bout with mastitis and a very "juicy" babe to show as evidence that God answered those prayers.

i'd also like to report that i don't think God really cares how we feed his wee ones, but that he cares immensely for the people that call him "Father". He knew that i carried the feeling of failure from e and didn't want me to repeat that feeling with d. i'd also like to thank those of you that can share this triumph with me, for it was not of my own doing that i achieved this success. so for those that prayed on my behalf, you rock right along with God! i am surrounded by such a cool community of women, and for that i am grateful forever!

the long and short of it

naming babies is a very personal matter. it is difficult. there are lots of things to consider. there is compromise between parents. there is negotiation. there is weigh-in from people other than the parents. there is the interjection of opinions from strangers. it is a heavy responsibility.

and then there is the nickname. in our case, the nicknames were given little thought and just seemed to slide off of our tongues as we got to know our babes. i have been calling elisabeth "peanut" since the day she came on the scene. i know, it's not too original, but it is what she was to me. she was my little peanut. scott became attracted to the nickname, "pooper". i think it was his way of coming to terms with the ugly side of his new role in life. nobody likes to change diapers, but if you make light of it, it makes it a bit more bearable.

delaney's nickname is rather unusual and can't really be explained. i'm not sure how it happened, but she has become "d-bugs, the baby of the world". cute, not really. but it has stuck and e and i call her that a lot.

and so as i get strange looks, when i call for "d-bugs the baby of the world", it has made me curious. what nicknames do you have for those that you love?

btw- the first picture is of "pooper" at navy pier when she was almost 2. isn't she a "peanut" if you ever saw one? the second was taken on father's day of "d-bugs the baby of the world". she was practicing her new trick with her tongue.

green

i take great pride in my lawn. last year my grandmother generously gave each of her grandchildren a monetary gift. scott and i used our gift to have our yard taken care of. when we bought our house, the yard was in a serious state of disrepair. we didn't have much grass to speak of and pretty much despised our yard. as a stay at home mom, i decided to take on this home renovation project myself. i interviewed the landscapers, devised the plan and managed the project. it was completed at the end of august, so we didn't get to enjoy the finished results for long before it was covered by a blanket of leaves and then a blanket of snow. recently, i sat on our back porch and marveled at the bed of green. e & d seem to like it as well.

i also got a chance to marvel at my beautiful babes.

Job 5:25

You will know that your children will be many, and your descendants like the grass of the earth.

evidence

the first piece of evidence that i would like to present is the photo above. (i scanned it from e's scrapbook page.) i'd like you to meet libby rabbit. libby was my first baby. i bought her when i was teaching at kipp. during independent reading, and for most of the day, libby would have free reign of my classroom. mostly, she liked to eat books. the kids would find a cozy spot to relax and read. and while they read, libby would hop around the room visiting the kids. i loved libby rabbit. she ate my overhead projector power cord, nibbled on my prada handbag, took chunks out of my favorite books, and escaped down the hall a few times too many. but i loved her. the purpose of this evidence is to emphasize the fact that i love rabbits.

i even loved this bunny rabbit. he has lived under my neighbor's porch for the past year. anytime i have extra carrots, e and i leave them for him in our yard. the second piece of evidence that i would like to present suggests that he has been eating more than my extra carrots.

these are my recently ingested heads of lettuce. i would like to report that they were delicious- crisp, not bitter, enhanced by a little balsamic vinaigrette. but since i didn't ingest them, i can't make that report. you'll have to ask the rabbit. he ate all the heads of lettuce in my small plot of land... and the tops of all my beans, and my herbs and the tops of all my peas. i spent today digging out all of my freshly eaten plants, sowing new seeds, and attaching a fence. call me naive, but i really thought that my bunny friends would know that i had a history with rabbits and that they would be kind to me. and now, the poor hungry bunnies can watch my new garden grow from the other side of the fence.

farmer's market

e, d and i walked to the farmer's market today. and while it made me long for our former csa membership and weekly trips to green city market in lincoln park, it was still a refreshing supply of locally grown goodness.

ikea

e, d and i made the pilgrimage to ikea today. i've been needing some storage solutions and an additional shelf for our "billy bookcase".

ikea leaves me with mixed feelings, but i came to some conclusions about the interesting mega-store today. out of all the stores that i have been to lately, they are the most eco-friendly out there. here are some ways in which they are doing things right:

they have little to no packaging on most of their merchandise, causing a huge reduction in waste.

their restaurant is all washable items, rather that consumables.

they label their trash bins (located throughout the store) "landfill waste" and "recyclables"- crazy how just the word landfill made me stop and take note of how consumable we are and that i should think twice before putting something into that bin.

they charge $.50 per plastic bag, causing the penny pincher in each of us to resist the use of those plastic bags that are ruining our planet.

if you live near an ikea, i'd like to encourage you to shop there. i think that the more we can support eco-responsible stores, like this one, the more other stores will catch on to the trend. i'd also encourage you to translate this into your daily life. i'm thinking about putting the label, "landfill waste", on my own trash cans at home. it would be a good reminder for me on a daily basis of where all that stuff is going.

my many mothers

as i watch my children grow up, like most mothers, i am recording their milestones. i take out the baby books frequently and fill in the important accomplishments. and while i've been doing this, i've also been spending a lot of time wondering about myself as a baby. questions like

when did i get my first teeth?

how old was i when i first slept through the night?

did i cry a lot?

was i a curious baby?

what made me laugh?



when my mother was eight months pregnant with me, she suffered from a severe brain aneurysm. upon arrival to the hospital, they knew that the only way to save her life was to get me out of her belly. they preformed an emergency c-section, but didn't know if the unborn baby (me) had suffered any trauma from the aneurysm(i didn't). after taking me out, they went on to try and save my mom's life. from what i understand, they weren't certain if she would make it. being a mother of two children already, saving her was the priority. after a series of surgeries, it was determined that she would live. the extent of her injuries was somewhat unknown and after some time, they discovered that she suffered from paralysis on her left side. because she endured brain surgery, her mental state was altered a bit. people that knew her before her stroke, knew a different woman. i long to know that version of my mother.

because of my mother's hospitalization, my dad had to make some tough decisions regarding the care of newborn tasha. my aunt pam became my surrogate mother for the first few months of my life. she cared for me from november until april of the first year in my life. and although i don't remember this time period, i have always felt a special bond with her and her family. when i was in high school, i was giving her a hug goodbye and noticed something strange. my aunt pam is a back patter. when she hugs you, she pats your back with her hands. i, too, am a back patter and nobody else in my household is. i found it sweet that while i don't remember our time together, i have a distinct part of her mothering left deep within me. silly? yes. meaningful to me? yes. it is part of my history. and since my own mother can't tell me stories of "when you were a baby", it matters to me deeply.

when i returned home to my family it was clear that they would need help in caring for me. at the time, my mother was using a wheel chair and undergoing some serious physical therapy to regain use of her left arm and leg. diaper changing and chasing after a newly mobile babe was out of the question. somehow, my aunt sharon stepped up to the plate and moved into our basement for a couple of months. again, being just a baby, i have no memory of this experience.

last weekend, my sisters and i met my aunt sharon and grandpa paul for lunch. we haven't seen each other in many years. i don't really know how the time elapsed between visits and am uncertain as to the circumstances behind the distance. all i know is that in many ways, to my adult mind, i didn't really feel like i knew them. the last time i had seen them, i had been a mere teenager. what i do know is that when the opportunity to reconnect with presented itself, i felt a stirring within that made me know we HAD to get together.

i am not sure if words can describe the experience that we had over a simple lunch. my sisters and i walked into the restaurant and met my aunt sharon, her husband larry and my grandpa paul in the lobby. i gave each person a hug and when i hugged my aunt sharon, this amazing and curious feeling swept over me. her embrace felt like home. and while we sat there and had some deep conversations over lunch, i saw the smile of a mother in her eyes whenever our eyes would meet. she held my baby girl for a little while and i saw it in the way that she looked at d too. it was the same look that a mother has when meeting their grand babies, that connection of knowing them already combined with nostalgia as they are transported back to holding their own wee ones.


and it was in those moments, that i realized she was another one of my many mothers. i felt it in that hug and i saw it in her eyes. and while i can't explain why i needed that, i can simply say that it felt good. i realized in those moments that God's divine providence in my life is very real. i'll never know why my mother suffered from such a terribly, life changing stroke, but in the pain their was a gift. God granted me many mothers and for that, i am thankful.

rock stars!

in my former life, i was part of opening a new school. i had the pleasure of embarking on that journey with some of the most talented women that i have ever met. one of the girls, in particular stuck out to me. in my naivety, i always worried that working in such challenging conditions would cause her early burn out. it terrified me, because she had something in her that i knew our inner city babies needed. at that time, i could never have imagined the greatness that she would achieve, especially in just a few short years.

she decided that she was going to take a stance and commit herself to changing the face of urban education. lakita is now the founding principal of fraisure prep. i had the honor of visiting her school for the first time yesterday and was struck by the work her staff has accomplished in these kids. two of these women were also part of the school opening that i had been a part of. it was so awesome to see the fruits of their labor.

the performance was a way to showcase their learning for the semester. from pre-k babies to 5th grade hipsters, these kids have clearly absorbed some rich information. they demonstrated a knowledge of various components of american history- the erie canal, buffalo soldiers, the pony express, the industrial revolution etc. my favorite part of the show came when a kindergarten class when down the line and shared their hope for the future. each one of these babies said what they wanted to be when they grew up and why- and i should mention that the auditorium was packed. i couldn't believe the courage they showed by speaking into that big scary microphone. and i was in awe at the hope these little ones spoke of.

i want to be a teacher to teach kids to read.

i want to be a preacher to tell people about the love of Jesus.

i want to be a soldier to keep people free.

i want to be a pediatrician to help kids feel better.

(i know, those babies went deep, didn't they! i'm not making this stuff up.)

i know with leaders/teachers like lakita, melanie and camia in their lives these babies can accomplish anything. these dreams can be a reality.

outstretched hands

i have this picture sitting on a table in my family room. i look at it often and think of what a great father scott is. he is gentle, kind, patient. he is so many things that i am not. and when e is with him, she feels safe. she knows that he adores her and that he will protect her at all costs.

on friday evening at the conference this weekend, one of the speakers spoke about walking with God. she suggested that each day, when you wake up, that you make a choice to reach out your hand to Jesus and to ask Him where He wanted you to walk with Him today.

it made me think of the picture of e taking her daddy's hand.

and in the extension of your arm to heaven, God will meet you. He will lead you through your day and offer you the safety of never having to go it alone. you don't need your tom-tom, He'll be the great navigator.

and so on saturday morning, as we were headed back to the conference, we took the picture you see below. each of us making a choice to extend our hand out to The Father and let Him reach down and carry us for the day.

the metaphor of my garden

this post is long, but i promise it has a lot of significant points.

so a few too many posts back, i told you that my garden was ready for planting. after putting that into print I became a little overwhelmed with the garden itself. you see, i liked the tidy little bed, freshly laid soil, newly mulched border etc. i wasn't so sure how i felt about the actual growing process itself. i mean, putting plants into that bed felt like taking a huge risk.

i've been keeping a secret. i planted the seeds a few weeks ago. i made a conscious decision to withhold that from you because i wanted to be certain that my seeds took. i was going to wait a while and see what happened and then take a tidy little picture when my garden looked the way it should, with nicely organized rows of new plants that had taken root. if the seeds didn't take, i was going to try again, wait and take the picture when it looked the way it should. i'm not kidding!

pretty quickly, i started to see growth. i went out there every day to water and tend to the plants. they were doing well. i felt confident and successful... and proud.

a few days after i began to see growth, we had a little situation. you see, my neighbor backed his car right into the frame of my garden. i had been sitting on the back deck in the dark and heard a thump and then heard him get out of the car and walk into his house. at the time, i had no idea that the thump was my garden bed frame cracking. i had no idea that several of my plants had been sacrificed in the process. the next day the discovery of this made me a little bit devastated- i had put my hope into that garden bed. scott had poured hours into laying the foundation and framing it. my nurturing had been disrupted and the result was a whole strip of ruined plants. and the worst part was that he hadn't even come to tell me about it! he was my neighbor! i was going to have to share a property line with someone that was considering hiding from the truth.

i called scott and shared my disappointment with him. we concluded that the neighborly thing to do was to wait and give them time. they might come to us with this, and if they did, we wanted to be willing to forgive them. but my heart went to the "what if they don't" right away.

i went away to a woman's retreat this past weekend with my sisters, step-mom, aunt, and grandmother. while i was gone, chicago was rained on quite a bit. i came home to an interesting sight in my garden. the plants had skyrocketed... and so had the weeds. the neighbor also decided to confess, sort of. you see next door to me is a man who lives with his mom. next door to them is the man's sister. i saw and heard the incident take place, so i knew it was the man who did it. somehow, the sister ended up taking the blame for it. she came to our door and confessed that she had done it and that she would repair it.

today i went out to my garden to tend to the weeds, the broken board, and also to the growing healthy plants. and while out there God spoke right into my heart.

you see, the hiding of planting the seeds is so like me in my relationship with God. i tend to hide things from people all of the time. God might speak and start planting a seed in my heart, but i don't tell people about it until i see the growth- i don't want you to know that the seed might not take root. i don't want to share my failures with the world because then you would know my imperfections. i hide behind the image of being put together, successful, talented...

and then i thought about the seeds themselves. when God plants a truth in our hearts, it is going to grow. He is God! He is the best gardener there is. my hiding the planting of the seeds demonstrated a lack of faith. i didn't have faith in my gardening skills, so i wanted to hide it. with Christ, i often lack faith that He can do what He has said He would do. and so i hide it. and in hiding it, i take away some of the hope that others might have in being a part of the planting. when God plants things, He is faithful. if i'd let people see the planting, they would also be able to see the goodness of my Father.

the pride that i felt when the seeds took root was meaningful, too. when pride creeps into our walk with The Father, it becomes more about me and less about Him. He is the gardener of my soul and He is the one who deserves the credit. i am just a vessel- the garden bed, if you will.

and then we get to my neighbor. probably the biggest teaching tool for the entire experience. i crash all the time. i try to steer my heart where it is supposed to go. i try to keep my eyes on the road and yet i crash everyday...

in the way that i parent

in the way that i treat scott

in my friendships

in my stewardship

and most importantly, in my walk with Christ.

those crashes leave an impact. they hurt and disrupt the order. and yet, God, the greatest gardener of all can fix them. He can nail back the board to perfect the vessel, He can add some more soil through His Word, and He can replant the seed.

the fact that my neighbor's sister took the blame. well, that's just like Jesus. He took the blame for me. He knew that I alone could not handle all of my sin and so He took the responsibility for me on the cross. just like this neighbor, if often try to hide my sin and shortcomings from my Father. but He knows. and He is waiting patiently for me to come knock on His door and confess. and He'll offer to help me fix it.

and while i was weeding today, a few people walked by and made comments on my gardening. isn't that just like the life God wants for us? He doesn't leave us out there all alone. He designed us to live in community and to walk through the process together. one of the people that walked by celebrated the growth- an encourager. another person pointed out a few weeds that i had missed- a teacher. and the last person commented on the crashed corner. it was the sister who had taken the blame- the great Physician who can restore any mess that we make.

d's big swim

scott was giving delaney a bath tonight. he called me in because he wanted me to see the olympic gold medal potential we have. check this girl out. is that the butterfly that she is working on???

it's raining, it's pouring

i've been feeling frustrated recently. it's complicated and many things have been getting me down. i feel like i am constantly being pulled in thousands of different directions and well, with the laws of physics, that sometimes leaves you standing in the same place at the end of the day. i don't want to be standing in this place. i want to be free of this frustration and feel productive again.

rewind to last week. i was talking to my sister about something way more important than what i am going to share with you, but our conversation reminded me of this activity that i used to do with my kids at the end of each school year. it went something like this: on the last day of school i would have all of my kids make a list of all their frustrations. all of their "i cant's" in life that hold them back and get in the way of their emotional well being and physical progress. after a few minutes of list making all the kids would put their piece of paper into a shoe box. we'd then march out to a corner of the school yard and bury the box that contained their "i can't" list. i'd end the activity with a eulogy of sorts. i'd tell the class that their "i cant's" were dead. that the frustrations in life don't have to act as stop signs. we don't have to let them impede our progress. we can leave them behind and move forward with all of our "i can's". it was one of those left brain activities that stick with you for years to come (please know that i stole this idea from a wiser woman than myself and take no claims at inventing the activity). i did the activity for the benefit of my students. i wanted to end the year with them feeling built up and free. but i did it for myself, too. i'd make a list right along with the kids and bury that list deep under the dirt right there with them. i, too, experience "i cant's" and i needed to figuratively remove the bind they had on my progress.

stick with me. i know this is long, but i swear i have a point.

after telling my sister about this, i longed for this experience again. my brain had begun to swirl with "i cant's" and i desperately needed to "bury" them.

i can't function on this limited amount of sleep.
i can't find contentment in my new surroundings
i can't balance all of my responsibilities.
i can't!
i can't!
i can't!

the list was swirling in my head and i was getting heavier and heavier with the weight of it all. remember, i was already in this funk and already feeling frustrated.

fast forward to today. i'm going out of town on thursday and i have TONS to get done before i go. my friend holly is back in town visiting and all i really want to do is hang out with her. e was at school and i was running around like a crazy women trying to get it all done. eleven thirty crept up and it was time to pick up e. i had one more thing on my list and it was all the way across town. and then it began to rain. and then the rain gave way to pouring. and then the pouring turned into a faucet from the sky. it slowed me down because i couldn't see the road ahead. we got to the last stop, and the rain had not let up at all. to say that i was annoyed is an understatement. i was angry. and in my anger my heart yelled out to God, "enough, God. i've had enough."

e, d and i jumped out of the car to run into the store. we were soaked. water was dripping from every part of our bodies. d had a puddle in her car seat carrier. e's pony tail was dripping. we were a sight to see. and as we stood their in line waiting to pay for our purchase, e started to giggle because we were such a mess. and whenever e giggles, d usually follows. so there we stood, both of my girls giggling, and a wave of joy washed over me. we made our purchase and headed back into the rain.

and i swear as i walked through the doors into the rain, i felt the lord whisper "you can" in my ear. and with that whisper, i felt the "i cant's" wash away with the rain as it soaked me again.

the Lord is good. the song nothing but the blood popped into my head and i drove home worshiping a faithful God. and i suddenly realized that my tangled list of frustrations is never bigger than Him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zvg5_V3cUlc&feature=related