Good

Earlier I posted snapshots of things that are good about the yard next door. Here are some "snapshots" of things that are good about my kids. These "pictures" were taken today. :)

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First thing this morning, Israel lets us know he figured out to pray for Jesus not to let Satan in anyone's hearts. Two days before, he showed up inches from my face to wake me up: "Mom, I asked Jesus and he got rid of all my sin. I'm not going to sin anymore!" Tonight, it was praying for Jesus to heal everyone who was sick: very sick, not very sick, and in car accidents. He will be so happy for Jesus's second coming. I hope it's not too rough for him in this in-between time.

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Before we could eat breakfast this morning, the kids had to go have blood drawn. (Nothing alarming, just checking cholesterol, since high cholesterol runs in the family.) Israel was frantically trying to talk us out of it: "I'm growing good!" He responded quite like I expect most kids respond, though he calmed down just in time for the needle, a point on which I congratulated him. But not Eden. Eden was happy! Last time she had a doctor's appointment, she stated that getting the flu shot had "made her happy." She liked it! I thought surely such parenting bliss would be short-lived. But, no!
"They're going to take blood out of you and give you a shot. Do you want to climb in the chair by yourself?"
"Yes!" She climbed up and plopped both her arms out in the right place, veins up, like she had done this a million times. (It was her first time for a blood draw like this.) She didn't say anything else.
"Okay." The two nurses (I guess they routinely call for back-up with small children) looked at each other, astonished. I just laughed. "They're going to give you your shot now and we'll see your blood. Do you think it's polka-dotted?"
"No."
"Striped?"
"No."
"Well, we'll see." I sat by her to prop her up and make her tall enough to do this on her own. She watched them stick the needle in and watched the vile fill up. "What color is it?" I asked.
"Pink!" She said, still watching. She did the whole thing without wincing once, hopped down, and said she liked it...again.

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We went to exchange a duplicate birthday present this morning, too. I told Eden she could choose what she wanted to get. In addition to wanting pretty much every greatest-thing-ever they had, she wanted to use some of the money to get a particular airplane for Israel. I let her, admiring her generosity. When we got to the check-out, the total was a few cents over the money we had from the exchange, so I told Israel to give the clerk his quarter. (A nice old stranger had given each of the kids a quarter at the grocery store earlier, which was also pretty cool.) In return, he got two dimes. He was pretty amazed at the apparent 2-for-1 deal. "I'm going to save these for college!" he said.

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Tonight at dinner, the kids both ate really well. Israel asked for one of the two "extra" corn muffins. Pat checked with me. I said I would like to have one of them later. He gave Israel the other.
After dinner, I half-heard Eden say something about wanting another corn muffin, too. I mostly disregarded her, because she never asks for seconds and she wasn't actually talking to any of us, anyway. She went in the kitchen, brought out the last muffin, and put it in front of me. "You can have it," she said.
"Don't you want a muffin?" I asked.
"You can eat it," she said, pointing to it again.
"But don't you want some?"
"We can all have some of it!"
She and I shared the muffin. I can't believe that she was willing to give me all of it when she wanted some, too!

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I love seeing the generous side of my daughter. I love the thoughtful side of my son. I love watching them learn how to interact with the world and with faith. I love when they succeed. Just like me, they often don't, but we celebrate when these things happen.

housekeeping

I posted a new entry, but I started trying to write it so long ago, it's several entries down. You can click here to go see it or scroll down until you see the one titled "till we lay these weapons at your feet."

finding things to celebrate

Last year, we purchased the lot next door from our neighbor. It has a pole barn/garage building (which we will not use for our car for a few years...) and all kinds of various things on it. We've been tearing down all the stuff and trying to clear the lot so we can have a yard and garden. Our neighbor did a lot of gardening, but you know how life gets sometimes when you get digging. You find all kinds of stuff that needs cleaned up. (Did I mention the lot used to be some kind of service garage for cars?)

When we were visiting my friend Rhys, she sent Pat and I out on a walk with her camera lens to go find things worth a picture. It is a dark time in her life -- darker, perhaps, than people should have to experience. When your toddler is pronounced terminally ill, it doesn't leave much of a view for whatever else may be going on in the world. There wasn't much of a view of the world from the house they're in temporarily, either, but I started from their front porch and worked my way out into the world, looking for things to celebrate. It was a good 20 minute life lesson for me.

I am convinced there has to be beauty to be found in even the most dire of circumstances and that part of my job is to find it.

My yard is certainly not the most dire of circumstances, but even so, I thought I'd apply myself to finding things worth celebrating in it, especially since this working season leaves me prone to complaint. Spring has offered a few small bursts of celebration, even in my own yard. I thought I'd share them with you.

one of the cherry trees in bloom

the serviceberry bush we transplanted from next door
(it's beautiful in the fall, too!)

yes, even the dandelions, which have provided some tasty springtime food for us.
and they don't look too shabby, tastefully taking root in a border with the daffodils.


blooming apple tree

the last daffodil standing (it is time for the tulips, after all.)

What are some of the things worth celebrating in your very own (literal or metaphorical) backyard?

learning about the back door

My son.

I was working the chili cook-off when he came up to me to ask to buy something from the adjacent bake sale. He poked at me and said:
"Mom? I was wondering it I could have...could I have...um...." He stopped to collect his thoughts. Then he began, "Hey, Mom? Fifty isn't very much money."

Upon finishing lunch today, he said, "Mom, I'm still hungry. Could I have something else?"
"Yes. Would you like some pineapple?"
"No, but that cake looks really good."
It took me a second to keep from laughing at the casual way he tried to just throw that in there. "We're not going to have cake right now," I said.
"If I don't want pineapple, what else can I have? What else can I have if I don't want pineapple? Do you hear me? What else can I have?"
"I'm not talking about it right now."
"Oh." I got about 5-10 seconds of reprieve from the boy asking about more food. Then he put on a big smile and piped up: "Mom, I love you," and kissed me on the cheek.

This is a boy who knows how to get what he wants. I don't ALWAYS give it to him...but sometimes I do.

Salt in the Mountains

God made the earth. We live in it. We fill it up. We use it. It is a gift. Sometimes we think about being stewards of it, taking good care of it; sometimes we don't. There are all kinds of groups that talk about the use of land, but we don't often see the church involved in the discussion -- at least not the church as such. And I think that's too bad. Individuals in the church may participate or have opinions, but often we think of ourselves as people with opinions instead of as God's people who are given a distinct role as the salt of the earth in the places where we live. Given that we believe earth itself was the first of all the good gifts God gave us, we deserve a place to encourage, pray about, and give thanks for the land we call home.

Anyone I know who was born in Appalachia, no matter how long ago or how far they've been removed from the area, considers that place home. If Mary and Joseph traveled back to Bethlehem for their census, we'd travel there. It is the place we answer to. It is also a place we will answer for.

Because Christians have personal relationships with the creator of the universe, it makes sense that we would have a uniquely valuable voice in conversations about the blessings He has given us. And, though we often praise God as creator, the image conjured up (at least in my mind) is often of the entire cosmos. Just as it would be strange for me to praise God for his overall goodness without praising Him for his specific goodness in my life, so it is strange to praise God for his overall creation without praising Him for the very land we call home. This is a relatively new idea to me, though it is a very old idea -- from as far back as our relationship goes. Maybe it's an idea forgotten to many, since I have yet to run across a forum on the subject. And so I begin the discussion. Well, not I...we.

I have started a new blog: God's Mountain People. I have a couple other contributors already and we are excited to work together on this project. We hope you'll join us. Together, we will be celebrating our heritage and God's gifts that are unique to Appalachia. We welcome all God's Mountain People to join in the discussion. I will be happy to edit and post your stories, thoughts, and words of praise as their own entries to the blog. We welcome all interested in learning more about what it means to be a Christian from a particular local place and time to listen in and comment away! Please share the link and tell your friends. We want as many readers and participants as we can get!

dreams take flight

We are working on adjusting to the time change we will encounter in Idaho. It feels a little surreal that it's actually going to happen. We're to the final preparations stage. We are almost better -- just a lingering cough for the kids and lingering sinus issues for me. They have a few days to go away. Please pray that they do.

I'm told Zaya is planning a party. There is much to celebrate.

Eden is content knowing Lia and Zaya have toys they will share. The girl has her priorities in line.

Israel is busy finding every scrap of paper he can to cut it to bits and make it into a "collage" for Lia and Zaya. It's his latest invention. Every one of them looks like a small firework stuck to a single piece of clear tape. Every one of them is actually some really specific thing with specific parts to do specific jobs that are dreamt up after the collage is assembled.

So many pieces have come together to make this possible -- anonymous people giving their bits (or chunks!) of money, prayers, and other assistance to make such discussion possible.

After so much blunt honesty with the kids about Lia and her condition, I was initially hesitant to talk with the kids about the trip. For it little while, it seemed Lia might not be around by the time we could visit her. Maybe she would still be in the hospital. Maybe not. But she's home and as well as she's been in quite some time. I was also afraid that perhaps the money might not come in and I knew there was no way we could make up any deficit. Then I realized pieces were coming together to make it work. This bit stuck; that piece landed just so. One bit was a friend asking the kids about the trip before I had told them about it. That was the push I needed to go ahead and let the kids know this is something I believed would happen, but wasn't sure of yet. (I wish we didn't need to teach our kids about faith; it's scary. Ah, well. Someday that won't be necessary.) With the whole thing being assembled, we are now free to dream up exactly what this will be, leaving plenty of room for the artistic freedom of the other dreamers. These days, part of us lives up above the clouds. We talk about what it will be like.

Thank you.

you can say to this mountain....

I think this is take on the impossible week for me. I'll slip into my "disclaimer voice" and tell you I'm involved in things every day that only God can make right. I suppose that's true even just because I wake up in my own skin. But this week, I've been praying for the faith to move mountains -- or, you know, not.

On one hand, I'm trying for faith to move mountains that stand between us and going to see our friends. For that to happen, a girl needs to be strengthened enough to go home and we need over $1000 more dollars. We have been blown away by people's generosity thus far and really moved to tears that people would come together to help make this happen.

On the other hand, I'm fighting against mountains that are being moved -- real ones. And these not by faith, but by big machines run by few people. I came to Kentucky this week to attend I Love Mountains day. My cousin (okay..maybe he's my 2nd or 3rd cousin. What is your dad's cousin's son?) who lives back where I'm from in Harlan County told me about it and was gracious enough to take me with him. I have never attended a protest in my life. And I know there are so many issues about justice that are worthy of being championed. But I've been really impressed in reading a little Wendell Berry with the idea that the best way to solve big problems is to work locally. I feel powerless against so many of the world's problems, but this is my hometown and this is what is happening to it, and this is a problem I am qualified to address. (Bottom image is from the State Journal, the Frankfort, KY newspaper; I couldn't climb that high.)

I don't think I can outline all my reasons for going here in this post, because it takes me a lot longer than that to be succinct. But I'm working on it. What I can say is that I long to hear news of back home and truly desire for it to prosper. I know that coal is VERY important to the people of that area. Coal is truly the only reason any of the towns back in those mountains exist. But I hope there is a future there and I want to encourage people to look for it. Coal is not the future for my hometown. Yes, there is coal left in the mountains, but if you have to actually destroy the mountain to get to it, it is not worth getting to. People cannot afford jobs that cost them their health. You cannot buy your way out of cancer or birth defects. Besides that, I think destroying something like an entire mountain in order to get a stripe or two out of it is prideful and wrong. Sentences like that can sound really arrogant coming from an adult, but the child in us knows it's true.

On the way down, I told Iz why we were making the late-night drive from Muncie to Kentucky. "You remember when we went to the mountains where Granny lives?"
"Yeah."
"Well, there are some people who want to tear down that mountain."
"But WHY?!"
"Well, because people can make money doing it."
"But they CAN'T!"
"Well, yes, they can. But I'm going down there to ask them not to."
"But, they can't just do that!"
The next day, before I left for the protest, I asked if there was anything he wanted to say about the mountains.
"Well, those mountains are good for walking around on, but we aren't going to do that, anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because there aren't going to be any mountains."

The apple didn't fall too far from the tree in terms of realism vs. optimism, I guess. Maybe he just already has a great understanding of human nature and the way of the world. I hope not. And I sure hope he's wrong.

I don't know if we changed anyone's mind by protesting, but we did draw attention to the issue. And we empowered ourselves to be the one who will do something about it. One man (who was walking on stilts) held up the quote about how all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing. I try not to make good guys and bad guys in these matters, but there is definitely a hard but right decision vs. an easy but terrible one here. And all it takes for the terrible decision to be made is for the rest of us to feel like there's nothing we can do about it. But I'm doing something. And especially if this is a local issue to you (did you know those of us in Indiana get our electricity from the destruction of mountains?), I want you to know that you can do something about it. I'm no college student and I'm not a hippie. But I can go to a protest. My brain isn't as articulate as it was a few years ago, perhaps, but I can write letters. No one leaves comments on my blog, but I can write entries to influence whoever I can. :) So I do. I'm going to do whatever I can, because it beats doing nothing. And I'm not alone.

just thinking about the weather

Some ambient music to begin this post: 10,000 Maniacs.


My son is obsessed with the weather. This morning, he asked me to turn on NPR so he could "hear the weather report." (I know. I'm going to have to buy him a sitting chair, some spectacles, and a pipe for his next birthday.) Most mornings, when the weather comes on, Israel suddenly perks up and, once it's over, he repeats back to me everything it just said. On good days, I get a replay of some other station's weather from a friend who really and truly just likes to call and talk about...the weather. We know the 5-day forecast around here.

Never missing an opportunity for some sort of lesson, I've been teaching Iz about the weather. Beginning when the leaves started to turn, we watched videos and talked about the tilt of the earth and how it makes seasons. We've learned that different places in the world have different seasons. We've learned that we have four seasons. (I just realized I'm including myself. "We." I already knew this, of course. He's the one learning. And maybe Eden, but she hasn't become involved in our discussions yet.) He's played computer games, putting leafless trees in the winter scene and green trees in the summer scene. He's dressed cartoon characters in seasonally-appropriate gear. He knows his stuff.

But this is a really bad year to try and teach your preschooler about seasonally-appropriate weather. We've had rain, thunderstorms, and 50-degree temps just like the rest of the midwest this year. (Of course this started to happen right after I explained to a friend who just moved here how much worse our winters are than winters a couple of states south.) So when we've been able to go work in the "garden" outside or put on just a T-shirt and hoodie before heading outdoors in the middle of winter, Israel has been thoroughly confused. There's been a bit of a progression in his understanding of what's going on.
It started on a sunny, warm, winter day:
"Is it summer?"
And continued on a mild, wet day, after a few wet days:
"Mom? What season is it going to be after the rainy season?"
And, on the day it thunderstormed and melted all the snow:
"This weather is CRAZY! It's winter! It shouldn't rain in the winter; it's apposed to SNOW."

I agree. (Maybe because he was largely repeating things he's heard me say.) I usually make fun of people who think Indiana weather (or Kentucky weather...or everywhere else's weather) is some sort of crazy anomaly. But THIS? This is the strangest weather I've seen yet. I haven't put much stock in predictions about the end of the world. But I think the Mayans might've been onto something. This just may be the end of our calendar as we know it.


And now, a closing song by R.E.M.

Back to helping my 4-year-old make sense of it all...or not.

"[Abraham] is our father in the sight of God, in whom he believed -- the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were."

Romans 4:17

God calls things that are not as though they were. He gives life to the dead.

"Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, 'So shall your offspring be.' Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead -- since he was about a hundred years old -- and that Sarah's womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God."

Romans 4:18-20

Abraham believed and hoped against all hope.
Without weakening in his faith.
He looked the facts square in the face.
And he believed the promise of God, anyway.

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When Pat and I were officially NOT dating (that totally awkward time after we told each other we knew we were supposed to be married when he broke up with me and dated another girl...) I kind of hated thinking about the promise God had given me about Him. It just made me mad. It didn't line up with the facts. And I faced the fact of no relationship with Pat just about every day, since we studied together every day in a group of about 12. One day, at the end of class, he met me in a doorway, looked at me, and said, "Hope."

I could have killed him. How dare the one killing, or delaying, or preventing, or stepping all over the promise ever think he is in the right place to demand hope of me!

Still, it was the right thing to do. Even though it hurt. Especially coming from him. Hope. Not try and make it happen. Not figure out how to make it sound good on paper (or on a blog entry). Just hope and believe and wait in the face of the facts.

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This advent and Christmas season, my thoughts around Jesus were taken over with the story of my friend's little girl, Lia. I've never met her in person (since she lives far away), but I have known her through my friend's blogs (click to read it) since she was a newborn and Eden was kicking around in my belly. Lia has had a rough time from the start, with surgeries, lung problems, G-I problems, developmental anomalies, and all kinds of things no one understands going awry in her beautiful little body. I want for my friend's daughter everything I want for my own daughter and it is hard to see her robbed of her own health.

Lately, she has been losing weight and is losing many of the abilities she had worked so hard to gain, such as speech, walking, being alert, and eating. And no one knows why. What we don't say outright is that we are afraid she is just wasting away and will die without ever being given a fighting chance. Test after test yields no result and no diagnosis. It feels hopeless in terms of her longevity.

One night, I laid in bed crying and praying for her and I felt like God had something to say to me about the situation. It wasn't a promise that everything would be just as I'd like. It was a directive to pray believing that God CAN make everything just as I'd like. Not because it's important that God can do my will, but because it's important for me to recognize that I pray to the God who can do more than I can ask or imagine. To that point, I had been acting as though His power in the situation was pretty much the same as everyone else's. But it's not. When I pray, I'm praying to the God who really can give life to the dead and call things that are not as though they were.

More often than not, I try to hedge my bet in prayers and assure myself with reasons why it will still be okay and I will still trust God when He doesn't come through like I want Him to. But I found myself faced with a decision one day. I was looking through pictures of Lia when Israel eavesdropped and decided to make her the topic of a string of questions. And I had to decide: Do I introduce this girl to my kids? Do I encourage them to pray for her, as we do for others we know who are sick? What if she dies? What will my kids believe about God then?

I realized then that I was trying to hedge my bet. It's not my job to explain or tidy up God's plan for the world. And why would I think it's a good idea to keep my kids from getting to know anyone they may lose in life? Are we only supposed to pray for things we know are going to turn out alright, anyway? No! This precious little girl and her family are people. They are people who hurt and who laugh and who fight and win and fight and lose just like we do. They are people of prayer and courage who need prayer and people of courage, which is just what I want my children to be. So we're not going to hedge our bets, here. We're going to pray for them and stand by them however we can.

The God who can raise the dead, who can intervene to make anything any way He wants meets us as we walk in through the door. He says, in the face of despair or pain or death that only He has the power to obliterate: Hope.

So we do, even though it may hurt and even though it could be dangerous...especially coming from Him.

We hope against all hope
trying not to weaken our faith
we look the facts square in the face
and we believe in the power of God, anyway.


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I am not the world's best pray-er. And I don't have the world's strongest faith. At all. Those facts don't change just because I'm writing this blog entry about prayer and hope. But if you're not perfect like me, I hope you'll be encouraged even as I have been encouraged.

family pictures

Christmas is a great opportunity for a family photo. Everyone's together and happy. So we take a picture of everyone together and looking happy. We woudn't want to miss a shot of everyone...all together...looking (at the camera)...happy! It's one of life's simple treasures.

But let's be honest. Here's the real story of this year's family Christmas picture.

It was more of a quick-fix upon realizing that we hadn't taken a picture when we actually were enjoying Christmas together. So we called Brandon and Sarah to dress nicely and come back over. The rest of us managed to cut Israel's hair (which disappointed his Aunt) and give both kids a bath, fix their hair, and put on nicer clothes ourselves (even my pretty-sick father!) in not much over half an hour. Friends/in-laws showed up just in time to witness the event. My lovely daughter has broken the flash on my camera (which I don't like using, anyway). Dad found and set up a tripod. I arranged the lamps in the room just-so and took a test shot before involving any children. You know, to save needless chaos.

Yeah. That was about right. Re-arrange the superfluous furniture...add the rest of the people, and check the formation:


Wow. I couldn't tell on the small screen everything that was wrong with that picture, but the shadow people were creepy.
So we had our friend, Tim, hold the table lamp up at an appropriate height for the rest of the shoot while his wife, Robin, held down the shutter, per my instructions. I didn't know that my camera would stop taking four shots in a row, preferring to take a shot every 2 seconds or so. This made all the pictures completely unpredictable. I could hardly believe it when I took a look through over 50 pictures to find NONE of them fit our criteria of everyone together, looking their best, and smiling. But I think this is its own kind of better. Here's a real picture of family pictures. Enjoy them more than we did then and as much as I do now! (They may be best viewed by clicking on one of them and then seeing them in succession.)

.

Not bad...we just need to ALL look at the camera.

and not be hysterically happy...

or silly

whatever it is, Brandon, stop it!

alright, except for mom...

Too crazy. Swap kids.

fix Eden's hair...

...and nose-picking...now if we could just get the adults to cooperate...

Eden, just sit still with your hands on your lap!

...but not like THAT.ugh. ISRAEL!
tell the kids to sit STILL!but also to smile... but not a silly, too-big smile....
And then I lost it.

Oh well.

Family pictures.

Is it only like this for us or does this sound like your house, too?