I have struggled to find a consistent voice in this blogging medium. Over the last five years I have written about gardening, crafting, parenting, cooking, organizing, faith, love, humor and probably more. I have tried to follow in footsteps I admire, keep to a topic or make this a journal, but none of these things have stuck. More than anything, I have written.
So, I have taken a terrifying step. I am going to begin writing in earnest. I am going to attempt to be a writer and, knowing very well that I may fail, ask for two things...honesty and grace. This space is
Essays and reflections in the midst of a very messy life.
Showing posts with label Visions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Visions. Show all posts
Friday, April 4, 2014
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Thoughts on dirt
There are so many moments each day when I wonder if what I do matters. Will stopping in the middle of the grocery store to discuss the power of the consumer to change slavery practices encourage my children grow into caring adults or will they eventually shrug their eccentric mother off as "odd" for only buying fair trade chocolate? Will poking a few seeds into my suburban yard create an atmosphere of stewardship or weediness? Will we live better because there is chard in my fridge? Do my children grasp the tenderness of the earth because I refuse to buy them watermelons in March?
The sad truth is that we have allowed the bottom line to answer these questions far too often. Yes, my chickens cost way more than the five dollars a week I fork over for eggs. Can I buy things more cheaply than I can make them or grow them? Almost always. But I find that the sweater that took two and a half years to make is precious in a way that a cheaper one can never be. You will spend more buying locally and fairly than not, but for us, the choice to buy gentle food is one we can live with. Does that mean that our cart is barely full when we reach the end of our budget? Yes. Truly. But, paying more to know that the reaper of my food did not go home with a lung full of poison makes my apple a little sweeter.
And that is why I buy fair trade chocolate and plant seeds in my yard every year. It is not because I am a good gardener. My failures rank from the mundane to horror flick carnage, but I am convinced that we press in close to the heart of the Creator when we dig our fingers into the dirt that was declared "good."
This year for Christmas my brother bought each of the kids an apple tree. I can imagine the joy that we will share as the buds turn to blossoms and the swell to fruit. I can imagine watching my children climb those knotty limbs for the out of the way and way up high. I am so glad that we got to plant them so that when they fruit, my children will know that abundance is real but often delayed. For me, when I doubt if my life is worthy of a story, I think of the tale that the dirt tells. I think of the countless generations it has fed and then reclaimed. I think of that moment of inception when the joy of the Creator marveled at the bounty just begun. Then as I watch the branches of those little trees, planted with so much joy and faith, swell with buds and promise, I know: my story joins in the Great Story and finding a tree that will allow you to enter into its centurian story gives a place to life that smacks of abundance.
The sad truth is that we have allowed the bottom line to answer these questions far too often. Yes, my chickens cost way more than the five dollars a week I fork over for eggs. Can I buy things more cheaply than I can make them or grow them? Almost always. But I find that the sweater that took two and a half years to make is precious in a way that a cheaper one can never be. You will spend more buying locally and fairly than not, but for us, the choice to buy gentle food is one we can live with. Does that mean that our cart is barely full when we reach the end of our budget? Yes. Truly. But, paying more to know that the reaper of my food did not go home with a lung full of poison makes my apple a little sweeter.
And that is why I buy fair trade chocolate and plant seeds in my yard every year. It is not because I am a good gardener. My failures rank from the mundane to horror flick carnage, but I am convinced that we press in close to the heart of the Creator when we dig our fingers into the dirt that was declared "good."
This year for Christmas my brother bought each of the kids an apple tree. I can imagine the joy that we will share as the buds turn to blossoms and the swell to fruit. I can imagine watching my children climb those knotty limbs for the out of the way and way up high. I am so glad that we got to plant them so that when they fruit, my children will know that abundance is real but often delayed. For me, when I doubt if my life is worthy of a story, I think of the tale that the dirt tells. I think of the countless generations it has fed and then reclaimed. I think of that moment of inception when the joy of the Creator marveled at the bounty just begun. Then as I watch the branches of those little trees, planted with so much joy and faith, swell with buds and promise, I know: my story joins in the Great Story and finding a tree that will allow you to enter into its centurian story gives a place to life that smacks of abundance.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Saving the Day
If you were a fly on my wall you might be amazed at the sheer number of super heroes who live in this one average size house. If jeopardized lives could be salvaged by underpants and crazy hats, there would be a real surplus of dancing and singing in the streets of Asheville. We often thrust random objects (vacuum cleaner parts, spoons, dollies, remote controls) high in the air and pledge to "save the day!"
So, if I sound heady and idealistic, I come by it honestly.
Do you remember this?
I am getting really excited. I am getting that tingly feeling in my feelings that tells me that God is moving in the little hidden places. I keep hearing murmuring about the Kingdom of God. Questions being asked. The normal stuff being evaluated (except for those two guys I heard sharing their deepest dreams at church yesterday...which turned out to be something about the Masters...golf). The gospel might just be good news. News that might set you free to love and serve and hope. A good news that doesn't fear or judge or separate. A good news that pulls persons in and makes them people through the love of a real, gentle, loving King.
But I stay at home you say. But I didn't even see the mail delivery person today you say (is that right? I know mailman is wrong...). But I didn't make it out of my sweat pants today you say. Big deal. God is asking us to ask. Just forty days. Just a few weeks. I know you have STUFF to do and PEOPLE who NEEEEED you, but let's pinky promise to take ten minutes each day to huddle together. Maybe God will not give the answer we expect. Maybe God will ask us to change what we have been holding a little too dear. Maybe God will give you a vision that only God can fulfill. Who knows!
So, I will be posting some Bible readings and prayers for each day. If you miss one...don't catch up, just jump in where we are. My friend Stacy will be providing some kiddo activities. Maybe some lovely persons out there would like to write a prayer or two. I would love to have a few devotions to share...(Luke, Mom, Jenn...anyone!) I can tell you this, I will be praying that God will lift up those who spend their lives caring for children and draw us together.
So, let's get those crazy hats and underpants on...
Saturday, July 21, 2012
We're Gonna Knock Your Walls Down
Keep walking, but you won't knock down our walls...keep walking, but it isn't gonna fall...it's plain to see, your brains are very small to think walking will be knocking down our walls.
Thank you singing french peas.
If this doesn't ring a bell, you need to brush up on your Veggie-lore (Veggietales).
Tonight the sermon at our Saturday evening service focused on breaking down the walls that divide us. One of the most dramatic walls that divides me from others is fear of being intrusive. When I was in middle school I was crippled at youth group supper because I was always afraid if I sat down next to someone they would be disappointed. I still am.
But that fear came from knowing that sometimes I was disappointed by the people who sat next to me. Dear middle school me, please know this...really and truly the most important thing is to make everyone feel included.
I am afraid of talking to people because I don't want to intrude, but sometimes love is intrusive. Sometimes it messes you up. Sometimes it makes you leave a place you love. Sometimes it isn't love of the people you are intruding on but the God who made them.
So, keep walking. Every day. Walking. Because the walls will come down. Just maybe they will be our walls.
AND...now I am thinking in a bad french accent. Zose stupeed leetle greps.
Thank you singing french peas.
If this doesn't ring a bell, you need to brush up on your Veggie-lore (Veggietales).
Tonight the sermon at our Saturday evening service focused on breaking down the walls that divide us. One of the most dramatic walls that divides me from others is fear of being intrusive. When I was in middle school I was crippled at youth group supper because I was always afraid if I sat down next to someone they would be disappointed. I still am.
But that fear came from knowing that sometimes I was disappointed by the people who sat next to me. Dear middle school me, please know this...really and truly the most important thing is to make everyone feel included.
I am afraid of talking to people because I don't want to intrude, but sometimes love is intrusive. Sometimes it messes you up. Sometimes it makes you leave a place you love. Sometimes it isn't love of the people you are intruding on but the God who made them.
So, keep walking. Every day. Walking. Because the walls will come down. Just maybe they will be our walls.
AND...now I am thinking in a bad french accent. Zose stupeed leetle greps.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Yes...but what can I do?
Here is my problem. It's 8:00 pm. Only 67% 33% (dang it) of my children are asleep, only 67% of the day's dishes are washed, 100% of the animals are unfed, wash isn't done, there are four unpacked suitcases and three loads of laundry in my bedroom, there is a box in my bathroom that won't let the door open all of the way, there are toys on the floor and we are out of bread.
So, normal day.
But, in the back of my mind, filed behind the basement full of junk (read: actual junk) and the woefully disorganized pantry, is this little thought: why am I here? Not on earth. Here. This city. I get why God called Luke here, but what about me? What about stay at homes parents? What can we do?
I know the hurting and the broken are out there, but when do I have time to find them? It is enough to stamp "SOMEDAY" on these thoughts and focus on me and mine for now? How do I balance Mary and Martha. Jesus might have had a very different take on Martha if he had been two. Thirty-something Jesus might have valued deep conversation, but two-year-old Jesus wants snack.
Truth is, I have no idea what the answer is. I am in the habit of jumping in and finding answers when they become little emergencies. New approach: prayer.
I am declaring a ordinary time Lent. I am not giving up Diet Coke again because no one wants me to choke someone, but I am going to spend 40 days praying about what people like me can do to serve those around them, and I would love to share this with anyone out there who is asking this question.
So, I am giving myself a few weeks to find my Lent things (journals, devotionals, cross thingy) then we will get to business. On August 22, I will begin mid-term Lent (the 40 days less Sundays leading up to 6 months after Easter). I will post prayers and Bible readings for each week and memory verses. Maybe if I get the materials up early enough someone out there who is creative could think of some kiddo activities.
The reality of young families is that even the most successful churches aren't reaching them or meeting their needs. Nap time, meal time, bed time and school time keeps families from engaging in traditional church activities. I believe that God has a plan and purpose for these people. Surely, it can't hurt to ask...right?
So, normal day.
But, in the back of my mind, filed behind the basement full of junk (read: actual junk) and the woefully disorganized pantry, is this little thought: why am I here? Not on earth. Here. This city. I get why God called Luke here, but what about me? What about stay at homes parents? What can we do?
I know the hurting and the broken are out there, but when do I have time to find them? It is enough to stamp "SOMEDAY" on these thoughts and focus on me and mine for now? How do I balance Mary and Martha. Jesus might have had a very different take on Martha if he had been two. Thirty-something Jesus might have valued deep conversation, but two-year-old Jesus wants snack.
Truth is, I have no idea what the answer is. I am in the habit of jumping in and finding answers when they become little emergencies. New approach: prayer.
I am declaring a ordinary time Lent. I am not giving up Diet Coke again because no one wants me to choke someone, but I am going to spend 40 days praying about what people like me can do to serve those around them, and I would love to share this with anyone out there who is asking this question.
So, I am giving myself a few weeks to find my Lent things (journals, devotionals, cross thingy) then we will get to business. On August 22, I will begin mid-term Lent (the 40 days less Sundays leading up to 6 months after Easter). I will post prayers and Bible readings for each week and memory verses. Maybe if I get the materials up early enough someone out there who is creative could think of some kiddo activities.
The reality of young families is that even the most successful churches aren't reaching them or meeting their needs. Nap time, meal time, bed time and school time keeps families from engaging in traditional church activities. I believe that God has a plan and purpose for these people. Surely, it can't hurt to ask...right?
Sometimes life just calls for a nap.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
What can I do?
Here is a question that has been circulating in my mind for the last...oh long time. What can I do when everywhere I go I bring three energetic, young, mildly-destructive children. Laine has actually come up with a new verb to describe his most common past-time: destructing. For instance, "Laine, what cha doing?" "Just destructing this thing." Oh, really? What was it?" "I don't know, but I destructed it."
So between changing bumbums, making simple, non-threatening meals that no one eats, trying to do the laundry (largely unsuccessfully), feeding animals, reading stories, cleaning up destructed things, and enforcing civilization, I wonder what I can do. Of course I know that my mom is out there saying that I am doing what I should be right now. I believe that. With all of my heart. Then I see the pain and loneliness around me and I wonder.
There are lots of me's out there. What can we do? I don't have hours, I don't have money, I don't really have extra arms, but I know that God can use us. Right where we are. Especially if we work together.
So, I will be exploring this question here. You know my passions: growing food, sharing food, inviting others in and I will be pondering what God's call is for me in those areas.
What can I do? What can you do? I refuse to be stuck and I refuse to be silent, but I also know that my arms can only hold a little right now. I have two mites of energy left to offer, and I struggle to not be embarrassed by that. My two mites. God, the great, mysterious, triune, God can take those mites and do the miratastic thing where people get fed and clothed and loved. BUT...I have to hold out my pitiful, embarrassingly inadequate mites.
Just think, all of us together...that's a lot of mites!
Hmmm...maybe I should come up with a different catch phrase!
Here is a pic of my sweet brother and his new wife! Aren't they elegant!
So between changing bumbums, making simple, non-threatening meals that no one eats, trying to do the laundry (largely unsuccessfully), feeding animals, reading stories, cleaning up destructed things, and enforcing civilization, I wonder what I can do. Of course I know that my mom is out there saying that I am doing what I should be right now. I believe that. With all of my heart. Then I see the pain and loneliness around me and I wonder.
There are lots of me's out there. What can we do? I don't have hours, I don't have money, I don't really have extra arms, but I know that God can use us. Right where we are. Especially if we work together.
So, I will be exploring this question here. You know my passions: growing food, sharing food, inviting others in and I will be pondering what God's call is for me in those areas.
What can I do? What can you do? I refuse to be stuck and I refuse to be silent, but I also know that my arms can only hold a little right now. I have two mites of energy left to offer, and I struggle to not be embarrassed by that. My two mites. God, the great, mysterious, triune, God can take those mites and do the miratastic thing where people get fed and clothed and loved. BUT...I have to hold out my pitiful, embarrassingly inadequate mites.
Just think, all of us together...that's a lot of mites!
Hmmm...maybe I should come up with a different catch phrase!
Here is a pic of my sweet brother and his new wife! Aren't they elegant!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Forward
Apparently I am a bundle of emotions right now. Luke commented that he just simply does not have as many emotions as I do. I laughed then cried. Haha...just kidding...sniff. So, I am never really sure if what is circulating through my brain is reasonable or emotional.
We are under contract on an adorable little house in a neighborhood that is much, much, much cooler than I am. It isn't the charming (remodeled) bungalow (tiny, tiny house) that I was dreaming of, but it is solid, happy, will feature my henny pennies (Yay for chickens) house with a garage.
Can I even describe the angst we have just waded/are wading through? Jesus commanded: sell all you have and give the money to the poor. Crap. Jesus said: foxes have holes, but he Son of Man has no where to lay his head. Well, shoot. Jesus said: a whole lot of really hard stuff that does not really jive with (oh my goodness...just got up to mess with my rising bread (I know...hate me) and I sat back down on Sophie...will let you know when I am breathing again) buying a cute house in a popular neighborhood. (Heart is still jumping) So, I am praying and searching and asking and looking and realizing that there are not formulae for serving and loving God. When Jesus healed the blind, sometimes he spoke their healing and sometimes he made spit mud pies. Jesus is calling me and my family to serve the people in and around Asheville, NC. I still dream of feeding 5000 from my yard, but now it will just be more of a miracle. I am praying that God will heal my blindness to those in need and give me the strength to go eat with prostitutes. You know, like Jesus did.
Maybe I will even invite them over to my (barring a major problem) super cute, trendy, happy, clean (empty) house.
We are under contract on an adorable little house in a neighborhood that is much, much, much cooler than I am. It isn't the charming (remodeled) bungalow (tiny, tiny house) that I was dreaming of, but it is solid, happy, will feature my henny pennies (Yay for chickens) house with a garage.
Can I even describe the angst we have just waded/are wading through? Jesus commanded: sell all you have and give the money to the poor. Crap. Jesus said: foxes have holes, but he Son of Man has no where to lay his head. Well, shoot. Jesus said: a whole lot of really hard stuff that does not really jive with (oh my goodness...just got up to mess with my rising bread (I know...hate me) and I sat back down on Sophie...will let you know when I am breathing again) buying a cute house in a popular neighborhood. (Heart is still jumping) So, I am praying and searching and asking and looking and realizing that there are not formulae for serving and loving God. When Jesus healed the blind, sometimes he spoke their healing and sometimes he made spit mud pies. Jesus is calling me and my family to serve the people in and around Asheville, NC. I still dream of feeding 5000 from my yard, but now it will just be more of a miracle. I am praying that God will heal my blindness to those in need and give me the strength to go eat with prostitutes. You know, like Jesus did.
Maybe I will even invite them over to my (barring a major problem) super cute, trendy, happy, clean (empty) house.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Hanging me out to dry
Do you want to know something truly shocking? I sometimes use my dryer even when it is nice out. I know! I refuse to buy paper tissues or towels, and I waste perfectly good sunshine by drying my clothes in the dryer. The real kicker is my dryer is so slow it might be faster to hang my clothes on the line. I am puzzled by this. I love the smell of sun dried clothes. I love the way my jeans don't shrink. I love that my sweaters don't pill. But I can't seem to coordinate it all.
Enter my Easter celebration challenge!
For 50 days I am going to celebrate freeing myself up. Want to spend the whole day outside? Sure! Want to go visit a shut in? Sure! I can because my life is organized and tidy.
For me I want to start with clothes. We just have too many. Laine has 14 pairs of pants. 14! Now, I made 5 of them, but still, 14! Annabel...well Annabel has lots of clothes, but most of them are beautiful hand-me-downs and her foofy dresses are so magical...ok...let's not start with her. Ollie is fine, he only wears a size for about two minutes, so I just get him dressed in a new size every morning (I am exaggerating a little).
So, me first...and how about you?
Here are the rules:
Keep only what makes you feel good. Even the sloppy clothes should at least make you smile.
Keep only what fills up 80% of your space.
Give joyfully.
 |
| What to wear...what to wear! |
Enter my Easter celebration challenge!
For 50 days I am going to celebrate freeing myself up. Want to spend the whole day outside? Sure! Want to go visit a shut in? Sure! I can because my life is organized and tidy.
For me I want to start with clothes. We just have too many. Laine has 14 pairs of pants. 14! Now, I made 5 of them, but still, 14! Annabel...well Annabel has lots of clothes, but most of them are beautiful hand-me-downs and her foofy dresses are so magical...ok...let's not start with her. Ollie is fine, he only wears a size for about two minutes, so I just get him dressed in a new size every morning (I am exaggerating a little).
So, me first...and how about you?
Here are the rules:
Keep only what makes you feel good. Even the sloppy clothes should at least make you smile.
Keep only what fills up 80% of your space.
Give joyfully.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Invisible Children
Please watch...it's long. A friend of mine was working with this group 5 years ago, and I never really heard her (it is amazing what you can't hear when you are overwhelmed...) Like Peter Rollins says, what doesn't stand out to you doesn't exist.
Invisible Children might not be the group for you. Maybe they spend too much money on their product, but I believe Christ would agree with doing/spending whatever we can save one of the least of these.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” Matthew 13: 45-46
My children are pearls. Those children are pearls. I pray love brings them into existence.
KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.
Invisible Children might not be the group for you. Maybe they spend too much money on their product, but I believe Christ would agree with doing/spending whatever we can save one of the least of these.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” Matthew 13: 45-46
My children are pearls. Those children are pearls. I pray love brings them into existence.
KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Digging in
As we raked the aerated, fertilized dirt back into place, Laine announced, "Mom, we found another garden!" Yep, we did. Right there in the middle of a weedy, ugly place, we found a beautiful (smallish) garden. I am so thankful that these gardens seem to be right there under our shovels. God has blessed us with dirt and seeds and shovels. Now I am dreaming of feeding my family and several others this summer.
Going to put my vision out there tonight. One table; lots of fresh, wholesome, slow, hand grown food; loaves of hearty bread to break; creamy milk (from that elusive cow that I just know I can't manage right now but would really nourish some little ones!); bunches of flowers; and people. My people, your people, hurting people, broken people, sick people, well people, readers, watchers, singers, users, homeless, heartless, alone, happy or maybe just barely making it, all around a glorious table under a spreading crab apple tree. This dirt I play in and think about and love will feed 5000. I believe it.
Then it snowed and got Februaryish so we went inside.
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