Fried brain craving domestic diversion

I am slogging away at Biology planning this afternoon. I'll be tutoring our high school homeschool co-op kids on the off-weeks when they don't have their Biology lab class so I've got to coordinate my lessons with the labs. I may also be teaching an Advanced Biology lab class if we get enough students. So, I am surrounded by books and perusing anatomy websites, and I even pulled out the microscope to look at human tissue slides.

My brain feels a little fried right now and all I really want to do is play with the new fabric I bought yesterday, finish a very sweet little knitting project, and block a piece of embroidery. Science Teacher versus Domestic. Science Teacher needs to win this afternoon. If I get the syllabus finished maybe I'll reward myself with a bit of knitting!

What I do

This is a "show and tell" post. I have always loved to read biographies, autobiographies, and journals of people I admire. I learn from seeing what they did and how they did it much better than I learn from reading "how to" books. So, humbly I pray, I offer you this little view of a morning routine.

I strive toward consistency in my times of Bible reading and prayer. I often fail but right now this is what I am doing each day. In detailing my routine for you, I do not mean to be prescriptive in any way. I simply want to show you what one struggling disciple does so that you might be encouraged to establish your own routine - if that is something you have not done. If you do have a routine, press on.

I keep my Bible, Valley of Vision, personal journal, and spiral bound prayer journal, and a couple of pens in a straw basket beside my desk. Right now, I am also keeping the book Mountain Breezes: The Collected Poems of Amy Carmichael in the basket. If the weather is nice, I sit on the swing on the screen porch. If it's not, I sit in the music room. Both places are quiet and private in the early morning. I usually make myself a cup of coffee and then take my basket from beside my desk and settle into my quiet place.


I start by reading the portion of scripture for the day. I am using the Discipleship Journal Bible reading plan and use the bookmarks that can be printed from the Bethlehem Baptist Church website. I have altered the plan and only use two bookmarks at a time. When I finish the scripture portions on these two, I'll go on to the next two. I don't worry about dates or months. I just check a portion when I've read it. I underline and mark up my Bible. I note particular verses that seem to speak directly to my life. After reading the Bible, I usually copy a verse or two in my journal and reflect on it. There is usually some application here as I think about what the verses I've just read are saying and how I apply them in my own life.



Once or twice during the week, I spend time reading and studying for our weekly small group. We're going through some Psalms right now and have a handout each week. I usually skip my bookmark reading on the days I prepare for small group so I can spend more time reading, answering the questions, and meditating on our verses for small group.

After Bible reading, I read a prayer from the book, Valley of Vision. I love these prayers. They are rich and so often capture in language that is more expressive than my own, the longings of my heart. I often write a section of one of these prayers in my personal journal and add my own written prayers of adoration, confession, or supplication.

For the last month, after reading Valley of Vision, I have been reading several pages each day of Amy Carmichael's poetry from the book I mentioned above, Mountain Breezes. I started reading these when my son went to India and decided to read through the entire book of poems. I've had the book for several years and had not read many of these poems, ever. Why read this poetry? It lifts my eyes and heart. It encourages. It gives words and images to thoughts and longings. Many people use hymns. I have done that at times but for now I am using dear Amy's poetry. If I find one I particularly like or want to remember, I write in the back flyleaf of the book the pages and titles and perhaps a small phrase to remind me of what the poem is about. I also date each page after I've read it so I will remember when I went through this book. You may not want to do as much marking up of your books as I do, but this is a book I will keep forever and one I go back to often. I want to remember where to find poems that I love.


Then I pray. My prayer notebook is divided into three sections: Family, The Body of Christ, and The World. I desire much more consistency in my prayer life and greater use of this little book as an effective tool. I jot down things I want to pray for and answers to prayer in the appropriate sections. I find that writing things down keeps me focused and helps me remember when I have told someone I will pray for them.


How long do I take each day? Depends. 15 minutes, 30, an hour. Some days are slow and quiet and I get up a bit earlier. Some days I have to get out the door sooner or pressing family needs intervene so my time is cut short. But, I always read my Bible first. And I always keep these books together in that basket so that if I want to grab it and go to another room later in the day I have all my "helps" together.

That's it. Pretty simple. It's a plan and I don't have to wonder each day what I'm going to do. Having a plan really is the first step in consistency. Yours will be different from mine. But I encourage you to develop a simple plan. Without one, you are likely to drift around...like a runner running aimlessly or a boxer beating the air. I don't think we have time to waste running aimlessly in the race of faith.

Post #3 in this week's focus on running the race of faith

Consistency

As we talked about Sunday's sermon over lunch after church and as we gathered to pray Sunday evening, there was a recurring theme in people's responses and prayers. We are inconsistent and lacking in discipline. In our race of faith, we fail to do what all serious athletes know they have to do. Make a plan and stick to it.

I have often failed in this regard. Too often I have thought, "It won't matter if I don't read my Bible today. I need to do _________ (fill in the blank) and I'll catch up tomorrow," or
"I'm too _______(busy,tired, distracted, you name it) to pray right now."

Coty used two quotes from coaches that stuck with me:

"When you miss training for one day you allow a
breach in the wall of routine."

and

"Run until the question of running never comes up."

Do I view spiritual disciplines in this way? Do I allow breaches in the wall of my routine that will eventually crack and eventually cause all routine to crumble away? The answer is yes, I have allowed breaches - many of them.

Do I read my Bible every day until the question of reading my Bible never comes up? The answer is no. This most important spiritual discipline continues at times to be weak in my life, though, by God's grace and with his enabling, I have been much more consistent in recent months.

I go back to a story and an image from Elisabeth Elliot's book The Shaping of a Christian Family. Elisabeth tells about how her own mother made time daily to meet with God,

"Not very early in the morning as my father did...but after the children left for school she went to her appointment with the Lord. I don't know when I first became aware of this....Mother always had her "little rocker" as she called it, in her bedroom, next to the little antique sewing table which stood under the window. On top of its crisp white linen cover was the neat stack of Bible, hymnbook, and the small red prayer notebook with a pen handy. Mother, as erect as Whistler's mother, sat in her rocking chair, reading, singing softly, praying, and occasionally jotting something in the margin of her Bible or in the notebook.."

Will my children remember their mother reading the Bible consistently? Will they picture in their minds a straw basket with Bible, Valley of Vision prayer book, journal, and prayer notebook? Will they picture their mother swinging gently on the porch swing, Bible in hand or curled up in the wing chair in the music room, head bowed. Will it be a consistent memory?

It is certainly not just for the memory in my children's minds that this consistency is important. Oh no. It is vitally important for now, for every day, for wisdom and discernment, for knowledge and understanding, for contentment and spurring on. It is as vital to my life as an Olympic athlete's consistent training is. No, it is more vital. Because, unlike the Olympic athlete who may only take his gold medal as far as the grave, the benefits of consistency in walking with God are eternal.

Coty said in the sermon, "consistency makes a statement to yourself, 'I am a child of God'." That's who I am. Spending time in the word is simply what a child of God does, like running is what a runner does. I can't live without it.

Post #2 in this week's focus on running the race of faith

He is a Runner

When I met my husband way back in 1977, he was a runner. I liked that about him. I didn't know anybody else who was so serious about running - or so good. He led the cross-country team that fall and in the spring he set the Davidson College outdoor 5000 meter record. It's a record that has yet to be broken!

He got me started running more seriously in college, though I would not say I was a runner in the sense that he was...and still is. I have run, seriously at times, but I am not a runner.

I'll never forget the first time we did the 10 mile loop at Davidson. As we came onto the main road of town after covering 9 1/2 miles of country roads, we met up with a professor friend of his who was out for a run. As the running prof came alongside us, the two of them picked up the pace. I thought I was going to die. I had just run longer than I'd ever run in my life and I was ready to slow down and crawl to the finish and here they were speeding up!! I think I kept up with them out of pride but my legs were killing me and I'm sure my heart was pounding. I was probably mad, too, but that may have spurred me to speed on to the finish.

Over the years I have stood beside the trail in the woods at cross country courses; planned out and then raced to the most strategic spots on a 26 mile marathon course to get there before the runners passed; bundled toddlers and babies up in heavy coats, hats, and mittens to cheer their Daddy on at Thanksgiving day races; driven to the top of a mountain to meet and then drive a weary Coty back down after he'd run the 12 miles up the mountain. I have cheered thrilling victories and witnessed the pain of my racing husband having to drop out because his body just wouldn't do what he was pushing it to do that day.

Many of our friends have heard the story of a time when, as the only white person in the stands at the Nairobi (Kenya) city track championship I watched my husband, the only white person in the race, drop out. The entire crowd moaned in unison as the announcer on the loud speaker shouted, "Oooooooooh, the mzungu* has dropped out!!!" And then they all turned and looked at me - or at least it felt like they did. I wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear.

Twice, I helped my Coty on crutches make his painful way to the car after knee surgery. How could he possibly run again after having shredded cartilage cut away? But each time, he did. Slowly at first, he worked his way back, learning how much his damaged knees could tolerate, how far and how fast he could go. He has never quit. He never will quit as long as his legs will carry him. He is a runner.

That is why when I heard that he was going to preach a sermon series entitled "Running the Race of Faith to Win the Crown of Righteousness", I got excited. That was why I couldn't wait to hear his exposition of biblical images of training and racing. I sat in the front row and I listened to my runner husband speak from his heart with delight and wisdom and experience about the race of faith. That was why I teared up during the sermon yesterday when he said, "I am a runner." I know he is a runner. I've lived with that runner for almost 29 years. And I know that he is a runner not just on the track and trails and roads, but a runner in the most important race of all, the race of faith.

If you want to be spurred on in your own race of faith, I hope you'll listen to these sermons over the next five weeks. Yesterday's sermon is already posted here. And I pray that you will be encouraged with me to "run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith..."


*mzungu means white man

Post #1 in this week's focus on running the race of faith

Eclipse

Show me what sins hide thee from me

and eclipse thy love;
Help me to humble myself for past evils,
to be resolved to walk with more care,
For if I do not walk holily before thee,
how can I be assured of my salvation?

It is the meek and humble who are shown
thy covenant,
know thy will, are pardoned and healed,
who by faith depend and rest upon grace,
who are sanctified and quickened,
who evidence thy love.

Teach me to believe that all degrees of mercy arise
from several degrees of prayer,
that when faith is begun it is imperfect and
must grow,
as chapped ground opens wider and wider
until rain comes.


So shall I wait, pray for it to be done,
and by thy grace become fully obedient.

-from Valley of Vision
photos from stock.xchng

Today I really love the reach of the internet

The phone rang and I heard Coty say, "Mary!!!" and then lapse into an East African English accent, acquired while living in Kenya in years past. I knew immediately that it was our dear Mary, the woman with whom we had worked and lived in the early '80's and who continued to be our friend during another Kenyan sojourn in 1991/92.

Coty and Mary talked for a little bit and then he handed the phone to me. My throat choked up and the tears welled up and out as I heard her familiar voice - still familiar after not hearing it for so many years. She said, "Beth, don't cry or I will cry, too." If we'd been together we would have hugged each other til it hurt.

When I traveled in rural Kenya teaching village health workers, Mary was my translator. We started gardens together in an urban slum. Then when Erin was born, Mary came to live with us. She attended tailoring school in the mornings and spent the afternoons helping me with jobs like handwashing cloth diapers and hanging them on the line (yep, that's what we did - no washing machine and no disposables back then in Kenya!). She delighted in helping me care for baby Erin. She was a Godsend - like a sister - and a dear, dear friend.

She came to visit us in the states in the early 90's - a trip of a lifetime and a joyous reunion. And I haven't seen her since. Coty used to travel to Kenya for work almost every year and see Mary and her family, but when he left college teaching, those yearly trips ended. So, we'd lost touch with Mary.

But now she has the internet. Her husband searched for us online and found the church website. He left a comment and an email address and today they skyped us. And now we have the opportunity to pick up the thread of friendship that God started weaving in our lives almost 22 (correction - 27!) years ago. Amazing!

Here are a couple of photos from 1982. Mary, remember?!

Mary (with the dark blue shirt) and my mom who visited us in Kenya in 1982,
in the Kawangware demonstration garden,
the first project Mary and I did together

Mary, my mom, a younger me, and Phyllis
on a visit to Phyllis's farm near Machakos

So, today, I am very thankful for the reach of the internet, for search engines, email, and skype. It has brought me closer again to a faraway friend. And more than ever, I want to go back to Kenya!

What is my view?

My plans for the week got significantly changed when we got a call on Sunday evening from our hikers (2 sons, my father-in-law, and 2 honorary cousins) telling us that the hike was going to be cut short and they needed to be picked up on Tuesday instead of Saturday.

I had planned on a long quiet week to work on school plans and to organize my labs for the fall. I had kept the calendar clear and figured this would be my week. My week to take care of my duties in relative quiet without interruption.

The the phone call came....

As I drove the four hours out to the mountains this morning I thought about my choices. Be irritated and frustrated about the change or thankful that the boys are safe and well and that I will get to see them sooner than I had expected. Be grouchy about the interruption or see it as a good gift. Worry about accomplishing my goals or trust God to accomplish His.

I had a sweet drive all alone listening to my favorite music, two talks by John Piper, and an interesting interview of an artist and designer I like, Kristin Nicholas. (Aren't mp3 players wonderful!) The drive was beautiful - through the mountains on a lovely day. I met up with the hikers as soon as I got to the meeting point and joined them as they finished their breakfast by the river.

So now my week looks pretty different. But I have a choice. I can choose my view. My friend, Ann, captured it better than I could in her blog post today. I hope you'll read what she had to say. I'm so thankful for Ann and others who help me to fix my eyes on the better view.

Matthew, Grace, Natalie, and Joel and a beautiful view
along the Appalachian Trail in western NC

Peachy

From peaches...

to jam...

in short order. I used the recipe in the Sure Jell box. Here it is online. Lots of sugar but we use it sparingly and it sure is good on a hot biscuit in the winter when the smell and taste of a good fresh peach is a distant memory.

Back to the kitchen now to cut up peaches for freezing.

What else we did at the beach

What else we did:

Bocce Ball at park around the corner

Gutter cleaning

Sleeping

Mini-golf

Card playing

A haircut for Joel
This is the "before" picture...

And here he is, shorn.
Please tell him he looks older.

What we didn't do:

Swim or wade in alligator ponds
We didn't feed them either

Go online

Nothing to take a picture of...nice break from blogging, facebook (for the boys), email, etc. And now this morning, I've been online for two hours and it's time to quit! Peaches from McBee await cutting and freezing and maybe even jamming! That's all for now...

Loose with cameras in Brookgreen

One of my favorite parts of the week away was the day at a place I have loved for years, Brookgreen Gardens. Brookgreen is an outdoor sculpture garden, "the most significant collection of figurative sculpture in an outdoor setting in the world," the website says. I have happy memories of visits there as a child. Now as an adult and a gardener, I love it even more. It is a garden like no other with reminders of its plantation past in the 250 year old live oaks draped in Spanish moss and more recent additions of beautifully designed, overflowing perennial beds that frame sculptures, large and small. There are fountains and pools, quiet nooks and long vistas. It is a place you have to visit. My descriptions do not do it justice. My dad said, as we strolled along under the oaks, "I never tire of this place." Neither do I, Daddy.

My mom, thinking I needed a little time away from the crowd, suggested that I head to Brookgreen alone. I agreed and packed up my paints and journal, planning to spend the day wandering and painting. But then, I felt a little bad...like, why should I go and enjoy all that loveliness and not share it with everyone else for the day? Not knowing if the boys would be interested, I asked if they'd like to go along. The answer was a unanimous yes. I'm sure my dad's offer to treat everyone to lunch at Prosser's was incentive, too.

When we arrived at Brookgreen, we passed out cameras to the guys. Kennan had his own and an extra to share, Joel took mine, and Daddy gave an extra to Andrew. I encouraged the boys to take close-up shots as well as full views of scenes and sculptures. We set a meeting time and place and let the boys loose to wander. Well!! Those boys took off and spent two and a half hours walking around the gardens, looking, admiring, and snapping pictures. At one point, Daddy and I met up with Kennan, who enthralled with it all, said, "This is a photographer's playground."
Indeed! The guys had so much fun and were delighted with their photographs. I share a few of our favorites below.

old brick walls and older trees

I love the contrast here of curving live oak branches with straight palm trunk

Pegasus, the largest sculpture in the collection, by Laura Gardin Fraser.

an old grindstone from the plantation days

Frog baby, in the Children's Peace Garden

strolling the shaded paths

Diana by Augustus Saint-Gaudens

Isn't this place an amazing conjoining of art and garden? The boys were certainly inspired and look forward to returning...maybe as much as I do.

Back from the beach

I am back from a week at the beach with my parents, three sons, one nephew, and friends R and S. Lots of guys. My mom (and dad, on the grill) did a remarkable job feeding us all. Andrew said that each meal was an adventure. We had hushpuppies twice and, yes, there was plenty of ice cream to go around.


The beach was lovely. I mostly sat and read - oh how relaxing - but did join the boys for some great ocean swimming and body surfing. Fun, until one big wave smashed my nose into the sand and bent my back in a way it doesn't usually go. After that I was content to float and watch the more resilient boys ride the waves.

My beach boys

The guys also did their traditional night walks down the beach to the Garden City pier - about four miles, there and back. The first night we were there, they were so eager to take their night walk together that they chanced an oncoming storm. Halfway into the walk the storm struck and they ended up running the last mile or so back in the flashing brightness of lightning strikes. I'm sure it would have been something to watch from the safety of a beachside window, but they were running to get off the beach and out of harm's way, somewhat oblivious to the incredible beauty of storm and sea around them. Mama, Daddy, and I were watching the lightning from the relative safety of the beach house front porch, four blocks back from the water and hoping the boys were on the way back. I'm happy to report, they did make it make it - only slightly shaken by their stormy encounter! On the last night there, they did the walk to the pier again, this time under clear skies, lit only by beach-launched fireworks. Plenty of pop and sparkle but lots less danger.

I'm catching up. Stay tuned for a few beach related posts. And eventually, I will get to posting over on the Wrens site (long overdue!) about Anatomy Camp. That seems long ago and far away now, but thankfully, I took good notes so have lots to share.

Giving thanks today for...

90. Time carved out with dear friend, C, for a long overdue conversation.

91. Children swimming, laughing, playing while A and I sit, knit, and visit.

92. Creative new projects to share with a friend.

93. Sleepy, tousle headed boys whose morning smiles bring cheer.

94. Husband who takes time to listen to sons.

95. Fresh foods and summer salads.

96. Visits from old friends.

97. The excitement of planning for new schooling ventures; a wonderful, stimulating co-op for high school boys for next year.

98. Rain, rain, rain! And thunder and lightning.

99. A time for rest and refreshment at the beach and the excitement of anticipation.

100. Cicadas chirring, owls calling.

101. A morning email from a faraway son with encouragement to travel with him next year.

102. Words of praise for another son from his camp director.

103. Extravagant givers in our church family.

104. Retired friends willing to take risks and do hard things for Christ.

105. Times of testing, brokenness, and fear and the realization of God's presence in the midst of all.

106. A group of international women seated around the living room floor, asking good questions, digging into the Bible.

107. Good books to read and more time to read them.

108. The splash of a dive and the coolness of the water on skin and the feel of the effort of stroking and kicking.

109. A short but sweet morning conversation with dear daughter far away.

110. Writers online who inspire and encourage.

111. A healing foot.

112. Church members with servant hearts.

113. Yellow calendulas, orange zinnias, red gerbera daisies, pink cosmos all jumbled in a garden bed together. Summer colors bright and bold.

114. Fresh basil and rosemary in abundance. Such scents.

115. Homemade gingersnaps.

Today, mostly small, quiet, family, friend, and church gifts from God. Thank you, Father, for all your tender mercies and gifts of grace.

Morning

Compassionate Lord,

Thy mercies have brought me to the dawn of another day,
Vain will be its gift unless I grow in grace,
increase in knowledge,
ripen for spiritual harvest.
Let me this day know thee as thou art,
love thee supremely,
serve thee wholly,
admire thee fully.
Through grace let my will respond to thee,
Knowing that power to obey is not in me, but
that thy free love alone enables me to serve thee.
Here then is my empty heart,
overflow it with choicest gifts;
Here is my blind understanding,
chase away its mists of ignorance.
O ever watchful Shepherd,
lead, guide, tend me this day;

-from The Valley of Vision

Fun at the camp lake

We took Thomas back to camp after church yesterday and got to try out some of the fun activities that he does with the boys at camp all week.

The Blob

The tricky part here is getting on! Kaye braved two misses, slipping off the blob into the lake, before she stayed on and crawled to the end to be rocketed off!

I think Joel had the greatest hang time in the air when blobbed by Gary.



But Gary was a close second when double-blobbed by Thomas and Andrew.



And yes, I did brave the blob. Like Kaye, it took me more than one try to land and stay on it. But no, I will not show you my launch into the air. It was less than graceful!

The zip-line over the lake

This was considerably more graceful than the blob flight.

Very fun. Andrew stood by in the boat to help those of us who cautiously made our first trip in harness. I tried it again without the harness, just holding on. No problem.

We are certainly having our share of lake fun and thrills this summer!

Local market, local flavor

It's summertime and our little local farmer's market is in full swing. The farmers come on Monday afternoon from 4-7 and the market behind the old restored Post Office bustles with customers. I get a chance to talk to neighbors that I normally only see out running in the neighborhood. We talk over tomatoes, cucs, and peppers. I discuss my jalapeno syrup recipe with one of the vendors, we sample watermelon, and I admire embroidered pillowcases.

I came home last week with cucs, tomatoes, zucchini, "lopes", and green tomatoes for our new favorite summer sandwich, a creation inspired by John S.

2 slices of whole grain bread
Spread one slice of bread with the creamy feta cheese from the Middle East market (this cheese comes from Egypt and is really delicious!)
Spread the other slice with fresh, homemade pesto
Arrange thin slices of green tomato and cucumber on the sandwich
Add pepperoni if you want, stick it all together
Brush olive oil on the outside of the sandwich and toast on the griddle.
Devour!

For the record, John's sandwich has green tomatoes, brie, and bacon. And it's toasted. Really, really good.

We've been using our green tomatoes for sandwiches and haven't had enought to make it worth making fried green tomatoes. Probably better for us, but I do love FGT's!