Taking time today to look back and remember 2008.
January...a shawl started
February...a saint goes home
March...spring break full house
April...beauty
May...a milestone
June...time to play and sing
July...so hard to choose but this was certainly one of my favorite days
August...another milestone
September...chuckle
October...finished
November...the scariest day of the year
December...life with big boys
So much more. Company, friends, meals with many around the table, extras living with us for awhile, a trip to Asia for M, gardens, beach times, lake days, graduations, new directions...such a full year, blessings abounded. I'm looking forward to 2009...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Navigating
I counted the days til they came. First Jonathan got home, then Andrew, Thomas, Erin and Luke. And then Kandyce arrived on Christmas Eve. We had everyone here - for a few, wonderful, over-too-soon days. (Pictures soon...)
Now the departures have started. E and L left on Monday, back to the cold north and good work and their little home with the beautiful view. And now we are reluctantly counting the time til Jonathan leaves to go to Egypt. Tomorrow. Too soon.
But not really. Because it is what he has planned for and dreamed about and eagerly awaited. He is looking forward to his job, looking forward to living abroad again, looking forward to renewing old relationships with staff who will now be colleagues, and establishing new ones with the students he will shepherd through their semesters in the Middle East. So I am glad and excited for him, but feeling that lump-in-the-throat, stinging eyes feeling you get when you know you are not going to see someone you dearly love for a long time and that they are not just around the corner or even a day's drive away, but across an ocean, in a world very, very different from your own.
I am learning to navigate this season of mothering. Of holding on and letting go. Of how to hold on and let go at the same time. I am learning, by trial with many errors, how to chart the course called "mother of young adult children." Sometimes I crash into the rocks or get swamped by the waves; sometimes I steer in the wrong direction and get lost. I say the wrong thing, I worry, I fail to say the needed word, I get selfish or critical. Sometimes ... occasionally ... by God's grace, I get it right and sail on smooth seas.
I am very glad I am not in the boat alone. My wise, loving, and also imperfect husband, father to these coming and going children, is sailing these waters with me. He is a steady companion, one who is not fearful of the swells or fooled by the swirling currents. He keeps us pointed in the right direction. I am very glad for that.
And we look together to our wise, loving, Sovereign Heavenly Father who really steers the boat. If I veer off course, I cry out to Him for correction, for rescue. He is so faithful. How thankful I am that in His powerful hands, the tiller never turns amiss.
That thought gives me comfort as I approach this next good-bye.
Now the departures have started. E and L left on Monday, back to the cold north and good work and their little home with the beautiful view. And now we are reluctantly counting the time til Jonathan leaves to go to Egypt. Tomorrow. Too soon.
But not really. Because it is what he has planned for and dreamed about and eagerly awaited. He is looking forward to his job, looking forward to living abroad again, looking forward to renewing old relationships with staff who will now be colleagues, and establishing new ones with the students he will shepherd through their semesters in the Middle East. So I am glad and excited for him, but feeling that lump-in-the-throat, stinging eyes feeling you get when you know you are not going to see someone you dearly love for a long time and that they are not just around the corner or even a day's drive away, but across an ocean, in a world very, very different from your own.
I am learning to navigate this season of mothering. Of holding on and letting go. Of how to hold on and let go at the same time. I am learning, by trial with many errors, how to chart the course called "mother of young adult children." Sometimes I crash into the rocks or get swamped by the waves; sometimes I steer in the wrong direction and get lost. I say the wrong thing, I worry, I fail to say the needed word, I get selfish or critical. Sometimes ... occasionally ... by God's grace, I get it right and sail on smooth seas.
I am very glad I am not in the boat alone. My wise, loving, and also imperfect husband, father to these coming and going children, is sailing these waters with me. He is a steady companion, one who is not fearful of the swells or fooled by the swirling currents. He keeps us pointed in the right direction. I am very glad for that.
And we look together to our wise, loving, Sovereign Heavenly Father who really steers the boat. If I veer off course, I cry out to Him for correction, for rescue. He is so faithful. How thankful I am that in His powerful hands, the tiller never turns amiss.
That thought gives me comfort as I approach this next good-bye.
Monday, December 29, 2008
29
No, that is not my perpetual age. It is the number of years Coty and I have now been married. 29 years ago today, the adventure began.
Two of the boys prayed very sweet prayers of thanksgiving for our family this morning as we gathered around the table. Tears trickled down and I choked up too much to add my own verbal thanks, but in my heart, I was saying thank you to God...
for the gift of a faithful, kind, tender-hearted, vulnerable, sacrificing, Godly husband,
for the highs and lows of 29 years together and the grace to stay together and grow more in love over the years,
and for wonderful family God has given us.
Happy Anniversary, sweetheart!
Two of the boys prayed very sweet prayers of thanksgiving for our family this morning as we gathered around the table. Tears trickled down and I choked up too much to add my own verbal thanks, but in my heart, I was saying thank you to God...
for the gift of a faithful, kind, tender-hearted, vulnerable, sacrificing, Godly husband,
for the highs and lows of 29 years together and the grace to stay together and grow more in love over the years,
and for wonderful family God has given us.
Happy Anniversary, sweetheart!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas
My voice is (sort of) back...my family is home...kk is on the way...cookies are baking...the turkey is rubbed with spices and ready to roast... gifts are (mostly) wrapped...
...and now it's time to step away from everything but family and home. It's time to welcome in our hearts once again the Christ child, Emmanuel, God with us...to ponder in quiet moments and celebrate in merry ones.
God's blessings on you who read this little blog. Thanks for your encouragement this year. My heart swells with gratitude for you who have given back in kind words. See you again, soon!
...and now it's time to step away from everything but family and home. It's time to welcome in our hearts once again the Christ child, Emmanuel, God with us...to ponder in quiet moments and celebrate in merry ones.
God's blessings on you who read this little blog. Thanks for your encouragement this year. My heart swells with gratitude for you who have given back in kind words. See you again, soon!
Monday, December 22, 2008
One other benefit
Oh, one other benefit of laryngitis is that when you can only talk in a whisper, people tend to reply to you in a whisper. I think my lost voice is reducing the volume of all the speakers around here today. Not bad.
Home, Part II...and a humorous loss....
Yeah! Erin, Luke, and Thomas got home last night. So, now everyone's here, except Kandyce. And yesterday, just before they got here, I lost my voice.
"What's that?" you say.
"I looooost my voice."
"Sorry, I can't talk any louder than that."
I think laryngitis is the best sickness to have because:
-it doesn't hurt. My throat actually feels better.
-my squeaky voice is quite amusing to my family. Every time I speak, someone laughs at me. Luke said I sound like a mouse.
-I get to listen a lot...and there's plenty around here to listen to right now.
-Many jokes arise from my inability to make myself heard. My squeaking requests get passed on with multiple permutations that twist and convert the meaning into whatever my erstwhile translators want me to have said.
-I get to drink lots of tea.
Which I am now going to the kitchen to do while Erin peruses cookie recipes and decides what we will make this afternoon. Oh, so good to have my daughter (and #2 son and son-in-law) home.
"What's that?" you say.
"I looooost my voice."
"Sorry, I can't talk any louder than that."
I think laryngitis is the best sickness to have because:
-it doesn't hurt. My throat actually feels better.
-my squeaky voice is quite amusing to my family. Every time I speak, someone laughs at me. Luke said I sound like a mouse.
-I get to listen a lot...and there's plenty around here to listen to right now.
-Many jokes arise from my inability to make myself heard. My squeaking requests get passed on with multiple permutations that twist and convert the meaning into whatever my erstwhile translators want me to have said.
-I get to drink lots of tea.
Which I am now going to the kitchen to do while Erin peruses cookie recipes and decides what we will make this afternoon. Oh, so good to have my daughter (and #2 son and son-in-law) home.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Open home
Tonight, as dinner was cooking, I stepped out on the front porch to plug in the one strand of lights around our little garland. I glanced down the sidewalk and saw John S. walking up. Always nice to see him.
I said, "Hey, I didn't know you were coming over."
And he said, "Gretchen told me I should come over."
Too funny.
Gretchen is a long-time friend of ours, a friend of all the boys, and sort of surrogate sister. She's home from her first semester in college and came over this afternoon to visit. And invited John.
I love it. This is now the second time in a week that this has happened. Without asking us first, our friends have started inviting people over to our house.
"Hey, you should come to the Pinckneys. They'd love to see you."
Yep, that's true, and if you come at dinner time, we'll feed you. Whatever we have. John was fortunate tonight. I was cooking a big dinner - barbecued chicken, gumbo and rice, green beans, sweet potatoes, biscuits with jam.
It is starting to feel quite African around here...like people will just drop by and know that it's fine to do that and know that we will be happy if they stay to eat - even if it's just rice and beans and collard greens.
I am very happy that our friends think our home is open. One of these days, maybe we'll entertain an angel. (Hebrews 13:2)
I said, "Hey, I didn't know you were coming over."
And he said, "Gretchen told me I should come over."
Too funny.
Gretchen is a long-time friend of ours, a friend of all the boys, and sort of surrogate sister. She's home from her first semester in college and came over this afternoon to visit. And invited John.
I love it. This is now the second time in a week that this has happened. Without asking us first, our friends have started inviting people over to our house.
"Hey, you should come to the Pinckneys. They'd love to see you."
Yep, that's true, and if you come at dinner time, we'll feed you. Whatever we have. John was fortunate tonight. I was cooking a big dinner - barbecued chicken, gumbo and rice, green beans, sweet potatoes, biscuits with jam.
It is starting to feel quite African around here...like people will just drop by and know that it's fine to do that and know that we will be happy if they stay to eat - even if it's just rice and beans and collard greens.
I am very happy that our friends think our home is open. One of these days, maybe we'll entertain an angel. (Hebrews 13:2)
making things
This morning is foggy, drippy, misty...a perfect morning to stay inside and make things. Like bread and cookies and soup and...um...well, I can't tell you the rest. But I will be at the sewing machine and later knitting needles will be clicking. And Jonathan's music will be playing and maybe Andrew will pull out the cello. Yeah, let's stay home today.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Home..and a happy recognition that life is different with big boys
If you saw the sidebar widget you know that Jonathan is home. He got in very late on Saturday night. I stayed up, of course, til he got home and then even longer because, of course, we had to talk for awhile. Oh my, it is good to have him home.
And then yesterday, we brought Andrew home. After he finished his last exam of his first semester of college he was very ready to be out of the dorm and on the way. After a great lunch at the Pita House with my folks, we hit the road back here. I sat in the back while Andrew drove and Jonathan acted as DJ for us, playing music from his Zune, computer, and for the last little stretch, the radio.
You know, it's just a different world now...imagine, you younger mothers, the day when you will sit in the backseat and knit while your sons in the front drive and handle the music. One of them will even get out and pump the gas and pay cash for it from his wallet in order to get the lower cash price.
When you arrive home, you will find the floors vacuumed by the son who remained at home and the dishes from the day and a half you were away will be washed. There will even be a load of laundry in the washer, put there by your son who noticed that the hamper was full.
After dinner, you will go about your business while one of your sons washes the dishes and another dries and puts them away. And then one of them will turn on the kettle and ask if you'd like a cup of tea. While you are sitting at your computer, one will come up behind you and start rubbing your shoulders. (is this sounding like a fairy tale???)
They will discuss economics and world affairs and draw supply and demand curves on their napkin. They will play games and say very funny things. They will talk and laugh and tell stories and tease each other and sometimes cast a sideways glance at you to see if you are giving a disapproving look at a comment just made. And you might be. You might even say a few words of reprimand. Or maybe not...because sometimes it is better to remain silent, trusting the maturing to continue. But if you do speak, they will listen and maybe not agree, but come up and hug you anyway.
A massive undercurrent of love will be flowing beneath everything. And your heart will be warm and you will know that every minute of diaper changing, every sleepless night with a crying, fretful baby, every incident that required discipline, every broken mug or plate, all the the noise and rambunctious behavior that tried your patience, the moody teenager, the stinky socks everywhere, the piles of athletic shoes in the garage that you stumbled over, the times you threw up your hands and wondered how in the world you'd ever get anything done, the times of frustration and worry and sheer exhaustion...all of it, every bit of it, will pale into nothingness in comparison to the incredible joy of having these big sons who are growing into such incredible young men, home again...
*****
We are still awaiting the arrival of Erin and Luke and Thomas in a few days, and dear, wonderful Kandyce, who we are all so eager to meet, on Christmas Eve. I cannot remember a time when we have anticipated the arrivals of far flung family with such excitement.
*****
Oh, and lest I give the wrong picture, I still stumble over athletic shoes in the garage and pick up stinky socks. We are not in heaven, yet!
And then yesterday, we brought Andrew home. After he finished his last exam of his first semester of college he was very ready to be out of the dorm and on the way. After a great lunch at the Pita House with my folks, we hit the road back here. I sat in the back while Andrew drove and Jonathan acted as DJ for us, playing music from his Zune, computer, and for the last little stretch, the radio.
You know, it's just a different world now...imagine, you younger mothers, the day when you will sit in the backseat and knit while your sons in the front drive and handle the music. One of them will even get out and pump the gas and pay cash for it from his wallet in order to get the lower cash price.
When you arrive home, you will find the floors vacuumed by the son who remained at home and the dishes from the day and a half you were away will be washed. There will even be a load of laundry in the washer, put there by your son who noticed that the hamper was full.
After dinner, you will go about your business while one of your sons washes the dishes and another dries and puts them away. And then one of them will turn on the kettle and ask if you'd like a cup of tea. While you are sitting at your computer, one will come up behind you and start rubbing your shoulders. (is this sounding like a fairy tale???)
They will discuss economics and world affairs and draw supply and demand curves on their napkin. They will play games and say very funny things. They will talk and laugh and tell stories and tease each other and sometimes cast a sideways glance at you to see if you are giving a disapproving look at a comment just made. And you might be. You might even say a few words of reprimand. Or maybe not...because sometimes it is better to remain silent, trusting the maturing to continue. But if you do speak, they will listen and maybe not agree, but come up and hug you anyway.
A massive undercurrent of love will be flowing beneath everything. And your heart will be warm and you will know that every minute of diaper changing, every sleepless night with a crying, fretful baby, every incident that required discipline, every broken mug or plate, all the the noise and rambunctious behavior that tried your patience, the moody teenager, the stinky socks everywhere, the piles of athletic shoes in the garage that you stumbled over, the times you threw up your hands and wondered how in the world you'd ever get anything done, the times of frustration and worry and sheer exhaustion...all of it, every bit of it, will pale into nothingness in comparison to the incredible joy of having these big sons who are growing into such incredible young men, home again...
*****
We are still awaiting the arrival of Erin and Luke and Thomas in a few days, and dear, wonderful Kandyce, who we are all so eager to meet, on Christmas Eve. I cannot remember a time when we have anticipated the arrivals of far flung family with such excitement.
*****
Oh, and lest I give the wrong picture, I still stumble over athletic shoes in the garage and pick up stinky socks. We are not in heaven, yet!
Friday, December 12, 2008
One of those "I love my cat" posts...
Well, it's true. I do love my cat. He's been around almost as long as Joel. We almost lost him to a coyote when we lived in Massachusetts. We left him with friends when we went to Cameroon for a year. We almost gave him to those dear friends who fell in love with him that year, thinking it would be easier on him than moving. But Joel was heartbroken at the thought. So, good old Madison moved, too.
He's a great cat. Very mellow. Very patient. More demonstrative in his old age, and now, getting a bit uppity...in regard to the table, that is. This cat NEVER used to jump on tables or counters or anyplace he wasn't supposed to be. But now....
Well, he seems to think, as an elderly gentleman, he's entitled to read the paper in the comfort of the morning sun...
Wonder if he's concerned more about low income condos not living up to the name or disappearing country ham. Probably the ham.
Yeah, I do love my cat. Especially when I find him curled up on my chair in the morning, warming it up for me.
There's just nothing more cozy than coming downstairs on a cold morning, making a good cup of coffee, and sitting down to read in a chair warmed by your cat...especially, when the good old cat just slides over and lets you sit beside him and rub his furry chin. I guess I can forgive him if he gets a bit uppity. He more than makes up for it.
He's a great cat. Very mellow. Very patient. More demonstrative in his old age, and now, getting a bit uppity...in regard to the table, that is. This cat NEVER used to jump on tables or counters or anyplace he wasn't supposed to be. But now....
Well, he seems to think, as an elderly gentleman, he's entitled to read the paper in the comfort of the morning sun...
on top of the table.
Yeah, I do love my cat. Especially when I find him curled up on my chair in the morning, warming it up for me.
There's just nothing more cozy than coming downstairs on a cold morning, making a good cup of coffee, and sitting down to read in a chair warmed by your cat...especially, when the good old cat just slides over and lets you sit beside him and rub his furry chin. I guess I can forgive him if he gets a bit uppity. He more than makes up for it.Happy Birthday, Joel Boy
The morning ritual on a special day...measuring height on this, his 14th birthday.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Thank you Father for...
281. Scudding clouds racing across the sky, blue sky peeking out, beautiful light.
282. Wheeling vultures (yes, vultures) that roost back of our woods. As they soar in the evening sky heading to their roosting spot for the night, my thoughts take wing.
283. A view out the kitchen window of clouds and birds and the song of wind chimes ringing in the windy evening.
284. Anticipation
285. Rain, heavy rain and dark skies, and a dry, warm home.
286. Dear friend, C, that shows me beauty in leaves and osage orange balls.
287. A listening, thoughtful doctor who's willing to work with me and who said, "Thanks for coming in to see me today." I am not a person who likes going to the doctor but today I really appreciated my doc and her patient, helpful manner.
288. Pray-ers...people who brave the rain and don't let car troubles deter them from showing up to pray.
289. Helpful Joel. I walked in the house after being gone all afternoon and found...clean kitchen, vacuumed floors, clutter cleared. And I didn't ask for any of it to be done. It was a gift of service, done cheerfully.
290. Dear next door neighbor who brought mountain jam today. Sweet Susan. She has blessed me many times.
"One is grateful for little things, and that also is a gain."
Deitrich Bonhoeffer in Letters and Papers from Prison
There were small things to notice today and then say thank you. And bigger things and more thanks. It is all great gain - the gratitude increasing the joy in all your gifts, holy Father. Slow me down, open my eyes, fill my heart and open my mouth with thanksgiving.
__________________________
HT. Precious Ann at Holy Experience who shared the Bonhoeffer quote.
282. Wheeling vultures (yes, vultures) that roost back of our woods. As they soar in the evening sky heading to their roosting spot for the night, my thoughts take wing.
283. A view out the kitchen window of clouds and birds and the song of wind chimes ringing in the windy evening.
284. Anticipation
285. Rain, heavy rain and dark skies, and a dry, warm home.
286. Dear friend, C, that shows me beauty in leaves and osage orange balls.
287. A listening, thoughtful doctor who's willing to work with me and who said, "Thanks for coming in to see me today." I am not a person who likes going to the doctor but today I really appreciated my doc and her patient, helpful manner.
288. Pray-ers...people who brave the rain and don't let car troubles deter them from showing up to pray.
289. Helpful Joel. I walked in the house after being gone all afternoon and found...clean kitchen, vacuumed floors, clutter cleared. And I didn't ask for any of it to be done. It was a gift of service, done cheerfully.
290. Dear next door neighbor who brought mountain jam today. Sweet Susan. She has blessed me many times.
"One is grateful for little things, and that also is a gain."Deitrich Bonhoeffer in Letters and Papers from Prison
There were small things to notice today and then say thank you. And bigger things and more thanks. It is all great gain - the gratitude increasing the joy in all your gifts, holy Father. Slow me down, open my eyes, fill my heart and open my mouth with thanksgiving.
__________________________
HT. Precious Ann at Holy Experience who shared the Bonhoeffer quote.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Getting ready in the kitchen
My kitchen is going to be in higher gear soon. With all the kids coming home, I will be cooking - a lot. I have to remind myself of just how many onions to chop when I make curry for a crowd instead of curry for four, how quickly loaves of fresh baked bread disappear, how necessary and delightful to share the tasks of chopping, stirring, cleaning. I am so eager for this kitchen to be filled with the laughter of college boys teasing each other, young men reaching across the counter to snatch a morsel of dough, the sound of not one, but two women's voices added to the men's this year, and everyone's arms at some time or other up to the elbows in suds, washing the mountains of dishes we'll use.
When I think about my family coming home, I think about being in the kitchen. I think about what to feed everyone, what they like, what is nutritious and beautiful on the plate, what smells good. I think about candles on the table and praying thanks for God's provision. I think about conversations that range from the deep, intellectual, academic, spiritual to the light, funny, silly even. And I pray, let it all, all this conversation, be full of grace, seasoned with salt - delicious life giving morsels that go down to our souls and nourish like the well seasoned food on our plates.
My kitchen is not fancy. I am rather a minimalist when it comes to kitchen appliances and gadgets. I have the basics - stove, fridge, microwave (well, that's not really a basic but nice for reheating). I appreciate my dishwasher, though when we lived in Cameroon, we didn't have one and our family of eight did just fine. I have a few well chosen extras that I love and use all the time. They are:
When I think about my family coming home, I think about being in the kitchen. I think about what to feed everyone, what they like, what is nutritious and beautiful on the plate, what smells good. I think about candles on the table and praying thanks for God's provision. I think about conversations that range from the deep, intellectual, academic, spiritual to the light, funny, silly even. And I pray, let it all, all this conversation, be full of grace, seasoned with salt - delicious life giving morsels that go down to our souls and nourish like the well seasoned food on our plates.
My kitchen is not fancy. I am rather a minimalist when it comes to kitchen appliances and gadgets. I have the basics - stove, fridge, microwave (well, that's not really a basic but nice for reheating). I appreciate my dishwasher, though when we lived in Cameroon, we didn't have one and our family of eight did just fine. I have a few well chosen extras that I love and use all the time. They are:
My electric kettle. My friends in Kenya in the early 80's had them and I'd thought about getting one for years. I'm so glad I finally did. I love it. For folks who drink lots of tea, it's wonderful - heats the water so fast. Another reason I love it is that it makes me feel connected to women of other times and places, especially the women I drank tea with in Nairobi years ago - Ruth Dass, Bonnie Cormack, Pam Horsley who were British, Zimbabwean, and Australian respectively. They would turn on their kettle, get out the teapot and the tin of "biscuits" (cookies) and we would sit and drink tea and visit. I am looking forward to doing that with Erin and Kandyce and the boys and Coty and anyone else who wants to come over and have tea with us this Christmas season. And yes, there is plenty of Russian tea.
My Cuisinart blender/food processor combo. The blender has a nice glass container and is very strong. The food processor is a little small for a large family but it does a respectable job pureeing garbanzos for hummus, or chopping dried basil from the garden. I use the blender several days a week for breakfast smoothies and it never disappoints.
Behind the blender sits the toaster. Coty loves my whole grain bread toasted. I used to have a fancier toaster oven but it died and I just didn't really need anything like that. This is simple, small, efficient.
These are my kitchen aides. Well designed, well made, well used and loved and they will be put to lots of use in the days and weeks ahead....
Monday, December 08, 2008
Not a good combo
Ok, I don't know what it is with our driveway and Volkswagon vans but it's apparently not a good combo! Two weeks ago, a brown one burned in our driveway. And this morning, a red one got backed off the edge of the driveway, down the hill, and stuck on a log at the bottom of the driveway. The driver will remain nameless. (No, it wasn't me).
Now, in defense of this driver, it was dark and there were leaves on the edge of the driveway, and said person was in a hurry with lots of her mind.
The back wheel was suspended in the air because of the log wedged under the frame. We tried piling rocks under the tire to give it something on which to get some traction, but to no avail.
While we were scratching our heads trying to figure out what to do, Isabelle and Ezra came out to survey the scene. After looking it over they were on to other things. Matthew consented when they begged for a walk. The next moment, a precious joy moment, will stay etched in my brain. Off they went down the road, tall Matthew in the middle holding the hands of bundled up little ones on either side, skipping. Matthew's voice rang out in song, "Oh! what a beautiful mornin'....Oh, what a beautiful day...."
Smile. Thank God.
It was - a beautiful mornin' that is - but we still had a red van stuck on our hill.
So, we called the strongest person we know. Fortunately, he lives very close by and he wasn't in class. He got here before too long. No, he didn't lift the van up, but he did bring a chain and a vehicle with a trailer hitch. The van was off the hill in a jiffy and Isabelle, now back from the walk, exclaimed, "It worked!" Yes, it did.
And then our strong friend asked if we wanted to get rid of the log. Well, yes, but we don't have a working chain saw. No problem. He just hoisted the heavy end of the log onto his shoulder. With a little help, the log was soon in the back of the truck and on it's way to a better home in the woods somewhere. It will no longer threaten drivers who fail to navigate our driveway properly.
Words of wisdom I offer if you are ever in a similar situation:
First, learn to back up with mirrors. Saves a lot of trouble.
Second, cultivate friendships with strong, young men who own heavy chains and vehicles with trailer hitches. They will surely come to your rescue someday. (Thank you, again, JP).
Third, make sure at least one of your children knows the song, "Oh, what a beautiful mornin". It makes a great soundtrack to a morning which isn't starting out so beautifully.
Finally, and more seriously, in the midst of it all, no matter how ridiculous the situation, give thanks. If we can thank God in the stupid, mundane, frustrating, plans changing, head scratching, annoying circumstances, we will be in the habit when the harder things come.
______________________
PS If you drive a Volkswagon van and come to visit me, I would suggest parking on the road!
Now, in defense of this driver, it was dark and there were leaves on the edge of the driveway, and said person was in a hurry with lots of her mind.
The back wheel was suspended in the air because of the log wedged under the frame. We tried piling rocks under the tire to give it something on which to get some traction, but to no avail.
While we were scratching our heads trying to figure out what to do, Isabelle and Ezra came out to survey the scene. After looking it over they were on to other things. Matthew consented when they begged for a walk. The next moment, a precious joy moment, will stay etched in my brain. Off they went down the road, tall Matthew in the middle holding the hands of bundled up little ones on either side, skipping. Matthew's voice rang out in song, "Oh! what a beautiful mornin'....Oh, what a beautiful day...."
Smile. Thank God.
It was - a beautiful mornin' that is - but we still had a red van stuck on our hill.
So, we called the strongest person we know. Fortunately, he lives very close by and he wasn't in class. He got here before too long. No, he didn't lift the van up, but he did bring a chain and a vehicle with a trailer hitch. The van was off the hill in a jiffy and Isabelle, now back from the walk, exclaimed, "It worked!" Yes, it did.
And then our strong friend asked if we wanted to get rid of the log. Well, yes, but we don't have a working chain saw. No problem. He just hoisted the heavy end of the log onto his shoulder. With a little help, the log was soon in the back of the truck and on it's way to a better home in the woods somewhere. It will no longer threaten drivers who fail to navigate our driveway properly.
Words of wisdom I offer if you are ever in a similar situation:
First, learn to back up with mirrors. Saves a lot of trouble.
Second, cultivate friendships with strong, young men who own heavy chains and vehicles with trailer hitches. They will surely come to your rescue someday. (Thank you, again, JP).
Third, make sure at least one of your children knows the song, "Oh, what a beautiful mornin". It makes a great soundtrack to a morning which isn't starting out so beautifully.
Finally, and more seriously, in the midst of it all, no matter how ridiculous the situation, give thanks. If we can thank God in the stupid, mundane, frustrating, plans changing, head scratching, annoying circumstances, we will be in the habit when the harder things come.
______________________
PS If you drive a Volkswagon van and come to visit me, I would suggest parking on the road!
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Luggage!
After several phone calls to the kind agent at Malaysia Air and the kind agent at Continental Air and one funny call from the Continental delivery man, the luggage arrived, safe and sound, and just a few days late, on Friday. We are thankful.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Home!
Our weary travelers are home! After 37 hours en route they arrived but their luggage didn't. It never made it out of Kuala Lumpur but is supposedly somewhere on it's way through Asia now and will arrive in NC in the next day or so...we hope.
We've watched the first two completed videos. They are awesome.
We are looking forward to all the stories to come. But for now, Matthew and Jacob are filled up with cinnamon rolls and are due for a good nap.
Praise God for their safe arrival.
We've watched the first two completed videos. They are awesome.
We are looking forward to all the stories to come. But for now, Matthew and Jacob are filled up with cinnamon rolls and are due for a good nap.
Praise God for their safe arrival.
Monday, December 01, 2008
More waiting...
Our travelers are stuck in Newark. Sad. More waiting. They couldn't get on an earlier flight out - it was full. So, they are trying to get as much rest as they can in the airport tonight. I don't expect it will be the most refreshing sleep they've ever had. They will get in tomorrow morning. I'll have hot cinnamon rolls ready!
Common mercies
266. a view out the kitchen window this morning of tall shag bark hickory trees waving their bare arms before pink tinted wisps of clouds and oak leaves dancing in the wind.
267. a long walk on this blustery day; first it's cold, then hot as I walk with the wind to my back, and cold again when I turn the corner and the wind hits me head on.
268. a quiet morning of reading for biology lab.
269. a friend for Joel who likes to play disc golf with him no matter how brisk it is outside.
270. good books and a few minutes to finish one.
271. finished knitting projects and more to come.
272. a new month, new habits, fresh resolve.
273. confession and forgiveness.
274. a squirrel balancing on the small end of a branch and then leaping across to a bigger tree and bigger limb and finally nestling into the crook of the branch.
275. black vultures, yes they are beautiful in flight, wheeling over the treetops.
276. titmouse dipping into the wet crumbs in the iron feeder on the deck, he looks annoyed that the offering of broken up biscuits is now sodden.
277. a cheery greeting and hug from a fine young man.
278. ideas to stoke, plans to make.
279. hot soup and fresh collards.
280. encouragement from Spurgeon in the morning, "My soul begin this wintry month with thy God," and words for the evening, "If we complained less, and praised more, we should be happier and God would be more glorified. Let us daily praise God for common mercies...."
And so, that is what I do. Purpose to complain less and praise you, Father God, for all the common mercies of this day, small and large. Open my eyes to see the common as a gift. To live in the constant awareness of your great mercy in salvation and your lavish grace in daily gifts. I do long for my eyes to be open to your gifts, my attitude to be one of constant thankfulness, and my heart to be happy in you.
267. a long walk on this blustery day; first it's cold, then hot as I walk with the wind to my back, and cold again when I turn the corner and the wind hits me head on.
268. a quiet morning of reading for biology lab.
269. a friend for Joel who likes to play disc golf with him no matter how brisk it is outside.
270. good books and a few minutes to finish one.
271. finished knitting projects and more to come.
272. a new month, new habits, fresh resolve.
273. confession and forgiveness.
274. a squirrel balancing on the small end of a branch and then leaping across to a bigger tree and bigger limb and finally nestling into the crook of the branch.
275. black vultures, yes they are beautiful in flight, wheeling over the treetops.
276. titmouse dipping into the wet crumbs in the iron feeder on the deck, he looks annoyed that the offering of broken up biscuits is now sodden.
277. a cheery greeting and hug from a fine young man.
278. ideas to stoke, plans to make.
279. hot soup and fresh collards.
280. encouragement from Spurgeon in the morning, "My soul begin this wintry month with thy God," and words for the evening, "If we complained less, and praised more, we should be happier and God would be more glorified. Let us daily praise God for common mercies...."
And so, that is what I do. Purpose to complain less and praise you, Father God, for all the common mercies of this day, small and large. Open my eyes to see the common as a gift. To live in the constant awareness of your great mercy in salvation and your lavish grace in daily gifts. I do long for my eyes to be open to your gifts, my attitude to be one of constant thankfulness, and my heart to be happy in you.
We are waiting
All today, we are waiting. Waiting for a phone call from an airport telling us, "Yes, we got on the flight and we'll be home in a couple of hours," or "No, we didn't make it -we'll see you in the morning." Of course, I want to hear the first of those two options and not the second. I want to see my boy as soon as I possibly can. I want to stay up late, go to the airport at midnight. Tired mom hugging even tireder son. But if he gets in tonight, I don't think I'll feel tired at all. Eager expectation fulfilled brings wakeful, exuberant greeting, not sleepy, half-hearted welcome.
It is Advent. I was so struck yesterday by the parallels between expectation and longing for Matthew's arrival and expectation and longing for the Messiah.
I thought of Simeon, waiting for the consolation of Israel, waiting for death til he could see the Saviour, happy to depart once he had held and blessed the child. (Luke 2:25-35)
I thought of Anna, advanced in years, worshiping and fasting night and day, not departing from the temple, giving thanks and speaking of this child to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36-38)
Waiting, waiting, waiting...for the Messiah. For long years. Watching. Fasting. Praying.
This Advent, I want to wait with the kind of expectation that Simeon felt, live with the consistency and devotion of Anna. To know the eager joy they must have felt when they, at last saw the One for whom that had waited.
Waiting for Matthew is a taste. Hugging him will be a taste. A taste of that kind of joy. That kind of eager delight in the arrival of the One who has come.
It is Advent. I was so struck yesterday by the parallels between expectation and longing for Matthew's arrival and expectation and longing for the Messiah.
I thought of Simeon, waiting for the consolation of Israel, waiting for death til he could see the Saviour, happy to depart once he had held and blessed the child. (Luke 2:25-35)
I thought of Anna, advanced in years, worshiping and fasting night and day, not departing from the temple, giving thanks and speaking of this child to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36-38)
Waiting, waiting, waiting...for the Messiah. For long years. Watching. Fasting. Praying.
This Advent, I want to wait with the kind of expectation that Simeon felt, live with the consistency and devotion of Anna. To know the eager joy they must have felt when they, at last saw the One for whom that had waited.
Waiting for Matthew is a taste. Hugging him will be a taste. A taste of that kind of joy. That kind of eager delight in the arrival of the One who has come.
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