Treasure from the Junk Drawer

The teaching of kindness is on her tongue

2012-01-28T17:09:00.001-06:00

Proverbs 31... the one about the excellent wife who is up before dawn, still burning lamp oil while prospering the house at night, and doing amazing things in business, real estate, household management, making fine clothing, helping the poor, and making the heart of her husband trust in her in every way... always makes me a bit nervous. It helps to remember that she (probably) didn't do all these things every single day. And also she had those maidens to help her. I remember thinking when I had four kids, ages seven and under (and no older children), "That's it! I need some maidens around here! Where can I get some maidens?"

That chapter was part of my regular Bible reading today–so I opened the Bible to bookmark number 4, found Proverbs 31 waiting for me and began to read with a little sigh. I read all those things I just talked about and wondered if she was very likable (and yes, I know she is most likely a composite of a person, an ideal) or if she was the type of woman that other women stand back from with envious admiration mixed with a bit of fear of what she would think of them.

Then I came across a verse I don't remember ever seeing before. End of verse 25, and 26.

"...She laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue."

The type of woman I always want to spend more time with.

That also reminds me of some other verses that have stuck with me over the past few months. Verses that make me want to have this type of mouth and tongue. I went back to find them in my journal . . . I have a little note with the prayer, O Lord, grant these to me! before a listing of these verses.

A gentle tongue is a tree of life.
~Prov. 15:4

The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life.
~Prov. 10:11

For with you is the fountain of life, in your light do we see light.
~Psalm 36:9

The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life.
~Prov. 13:44

The fear of the Lord is a fountain of life.
~Prov. 14:27

Good sense is a fountain of life to him who has it.
~Prov. 16:22

And reading through those again today, I remembered that I was thinking about these tree of life and fountain of life verses during Thanksgiving weekend. And I found that I had recorded in my journal an image that formed in my mind of the beauty of these verses. An image of gratefulness and thanksgiving dripping from our cupped hands, merely holding up and giving back to God a tiny portion of that very fountain of life that we have scooped up... that He is providing.

And I found a prayer that I had completely forgotten. A prayer I wrote for me and all of us as mothers... the type of mother we want to be, but how can we be? This trait of the Proverbs 31 woman that I admire the most is one we cannot gain except as a gift of His grace. A mother with wisdom, with the teaching of kindness on our tongue, a fountain of life and a tree of life for our children by the mercy of God...

"...with gratefulness and thanksgiving dripping from our cupped hands. Our feet like roots standing in the stream of the fountain of life. Our arms outstretched against the winds that come, laden with fruit, laden with fruit. Our mouths speaking forth as a fountain of life. Grace held up in our cupped hands, overflowing and dripping back to the stream at our feet. A fountain of life is a gentle teaching tongue ~ making brave the fearful, making beggars and ragtag children into heirs of the King. O Lord make our desire be for your fountain of life! May we thrist for it as if death were near for lack of this fountain! May we not drink to our death, but to Life in You. By your Spirit, send us your gifts of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. Let me laugh at the dawn after sleepless nights. Show my hands and feet and weak knees how to work. And for my children, I ask that their souls be filled with your Spirit - a teacher and helper in all things. Let not one be darkness to your light. May they see light by your light. True. Piercing joy. Beauty seen and cherished. True beauty as in You. Loving Your glory and desiring to know You, know You, know You. O God, make me a faithful witness to these things ~ may I pour out my life to this task. Renew me though your everlasting living water, a fountain of life welling up and flowing out of my mouth in gentleness - a tree of life to those around me. Make this true of me and my Sisters, too. Show me what to shed and what to put on. In all gentleness, I beg. Amen."

~Sara~

O, weary soul ~ Rejoice!

2012-01-26T10:53:00.000-06:00

Sparkling, frost-dressed trees this morn;
Sun breaking through the mist.
Winter beauty whispers, "glory..." in this still-life season.

O, weary soul - Rejoice!

~Sara~

You fill me with joy in Your presence

2012-01-22T23:25:00.001-06:00

You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of

joy;
at your right hand are pleasures

forevermore.
~Psalm 16:11~

This is the memory verse I've been pondering this week. It is one of my favorite verses–reminding me that it is in His presence that there is fullness of joy–even though in my tired flesh and amnesia of spirit, I try to pursue joy in other things again, and again, and again.

This is also one of the few verses that I memorized years ago that I can remember easily word for word. Back then, it was a different version than the ESV that I have settled on as "my" version of choice for reading and memorizing.

I have a distinct memory of standing in my old, small, cozy kitchen in the house we lived in for seven years in downtown Minneapolis. At that time, all of the kids were young and it was up to me to copy down the verses each week and I enjoyed decorating them with simple colored pencil designs and scrolling around the edges. Then I would tape them up in the kitchen or the kids' room where a few times a day I could read them over and try to work the memorizing into my day whenever I happened to look at it. This wasn't something that usually led to worship. It was more like brushing my teeth or checking the weather, by habit, to tell the truth. That day I was leaning back against a counter, looking over at the words I had written and taped up on a cabinet, and repeating them a few times. My highly systematic method for learning Bible verses...

But the Word of God is living and active ~ it does not return empty, and as I repeated this verse over and over by routine, I became aware that I was in tears, amazed by the truth in these words. God in his mercy had pierced through my distracted, fuzzy mind with the presence of His love right there with me in my kitchen with the piles of dishes. Here are those words that went out of my flesh as plain English words and at the same time by the power of the Holy Spirit, rose up in my soul as the living Word of God–indeed filling me with Joy.

You have made known to me the
path of Life;

You fill me with Joy
in Your Presence.

With Everlasting Pleasures
at Your Right Hand.
~Psalm 16:11

Peter also echoes this verse, quoting it in his sermon as recorded in Acts (verse 2:28). The Old Testament verses that are quoted in the writings of the Apostles of our Lord Christ Jesus always make me sit up and pay attention.

I thank you Lord that it is You who fills us with Joy in your Presence. For surely, we would not have Your joy any other way.

~Sara~

The Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan

2012-01-10T18:42:00.014-06:00

For those who want "Just the plan, please!" - here it is:

The no-dates, you're-never-behind...

Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan:

Sara’s Five Bookmarks •
Read one chapter per day, per bookmark. At the end of a book, start the next book on the bookmark. At the end of the bookmark list, go back to the beginning. Use all five bookmarks, or pick one or two for now - just keep moving the bookmarks a chapter at a time. If you miss a day or more… no catching up! Just find your bookmarks and dwell in the Word right where He has led you.

1. Gospels and Acts • Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts ( 117 chapters)

2. Books of Moses and Psalms • Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Psalms • (337 chapters)

Note: I recommend starting with Psalms if you are beginning this in January and you've tried many plans over the years - just to avoid reading Genesis again first, in the dead of winter.

3. Poetry and Prophets • Job, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi • (312 chapters)

4. Wisdom and History • Proverbs, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings, 1 & 2Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther • (280 chapters)

5. New Testament Epistles • Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, 1 & 2 Thessalonians, 1 & 2 Timothy, Titus, Philemon, Hebrews, James, 1 & 2 Peter, 1, 2 & 3 John, Jude, Revelation • (145 chapters)

Note: One thing I have found helpful in using the bookmark system is to make a tiny dot (.) at the end of each chapter when I finish it, so that if the bookmarks fall out or if I miss several days of reading, (or if they are taken out and chewed up by a baby–as happened more than once to mine), I can easily find my place and get going again. I like to read a paper rather than digital Bible so the tiny dot markings work well for me.

My goal is NOT to get through these lists in one year, but simply to read widely and consistently in the Bible. (Although if one did read these five bookmark lists consistently, one would get through all the Bible at least once, and the New Testament books at least twice- even skipping 28 days entirely.) One of my own personal rules is "never try to catch up," just pick up the Bible and read where the bookmarks are, and abide in the Word that day by His unmerited grace.

By the grace of our Lord Jesus, may we all be eager to enjoy the privilege of reading and dwelling in the Word – for our joy and His glory. Blessings!

-Sara-

If you'd like the Sara's Five Bookmarks .pdf (and these instructions)

to print and cut out at home. . .

E-mail me at sara.junkdrawer@gmail.com

Sara's Five Bookmarks adapted from:
Professor Grant Horner’s Bible Reading System (The Ten Lists)

(Which I highly recommend if you can read ten chapters a day in this season of your life!) His system is fully explained in this document…. He encourages the sharing of his system and his bookmark lists : http://www.scribd.com/doc/12349985/Professor-Grant-Horners-Bible-Reading-System

*Nothing special about “Sara’s” bookmarks . . . just The Ten Lists combined in a way that makes sense to me. All books of the Bible are included on one of the Five Bookmarks. Read 1 - 5 in order, they start and end in the NT, vary in genre, and over time the readings line up in different seasons and with different scripture passages.

Why FIVE Bookmarks, where the original idea came from, and my thinking on it... here.

Tips on using the plan here.

How beautiful are the feet...

2012-01-09T00:12:00.003-06:00

For "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."

How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed?

And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard?

And how are they to hear without someone preaching?

And how are they to preach unless they are sent?

As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!"

~Romans 10:13-15~

The first time I heard this verse referenced, I didn't realize it was a verse at all.

I was just out of college and we'd been married two years (no children in sight) when we moved into married student housing at Southwestern Seminary for Kevin to begin working on a music ministry degree. One of the first people we met was Joe. Joe was a big guy and he was building bookshelves in his front yard the day we moved in. In fact, we bought a bookshelf from him that we call "Joe's Bookshelf" to this day. Designed to be the largest standing bookshelf possible that could both go through the front door of our duplexes and be maneuvered into an upright position, dozens of "Joe's Bookshelves" were to be found throughout the neighborhood. Twenty years later, it's still the largest and sturdiest bookshelf in our home. Joe (who did not look like any Pastor I had ever met) was the Pastor of a church serving the homeless in downtown Ft. Worth, Texas––and the ministry he worked with was called Beautiful Feet Ministries.

Laugh at me if you want, but not knowing the Romans passage above, or the Isaiah 52 passage containing these words––I had a vague impression of Jesus washing the (beautiful?) feet of the disciples and encouraging his disciples, likewise, to serve others. It's funny now, but I clearly remember puzzling a few seconds over the name of the ministry and I wondered what a church for the homeless would be like. For some reason I still have a mental image of Joe and his wife serving hot dogs under a bridge somewhere. Obviously, I had a lot to learn about the Bible...and about non-traditional ministries and churches.

In more recent years, this passage (fortunately now familiar to me) has been sweet in my mind as I daily pray for dear friends of ours who are serving as missionaries in a place so closed to the preaching of the Good News that I hesitate to mention even the initials of their names–and certainly, I can't mention the remote town in the country where they are serving–because I am afraid that to do so might endanger their lives and the lives of their small children. The path they are walking while following the Lord Jesus and sharing His good news in this dark land is hard. Daily... it is hard.

Their dusty, bruised, and weary feet are indeed beautiful.

This passage from Romans is the memory verse that our church is working on this week, and inspired by a new resolve to memorize scripture as a family (as well as a new, super-amazing USB microphone that works with Garage Band on his iPad to create and record truly amazing music right here in our living room...ahem...) my husband has put the memory verse to song for the second week in a row. And, since I now have the ability to easily and quickly post the song on this blog, I will.

Because this song is another new favorite.

Kevin had our friends in mind when he wrote this song. You'll hear our love for them in the chorus about the beautiful feet.

~Sara~

For "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."

How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed?

And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard?

And how are they to hear without someone preaching?

And how are they to preach unless they are sent?

As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!"

~Romans 10:13-15~

How beautiful upon the mountains

are the feet of him who brings good news,

who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness,

who publishes salvation,

who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”

~Isaiah 52:7

Memory Verse Resources: For those who are interested in the memory verse program that our church has designed and uses, information can be found here...Fighter Verse Program. A list of this year's suggested weekly verses can be found on this page on our church's website (our family prints that list, which includes the scripture texts, and we make our own resources out of it). For professionally designed curriculum resources related to the program, go here... Fighter Verse Resources. If you are interested in using songs to help you hide the Word of God in your heart, CDs from the Fighter Verse Song project that my husband has been involved in can also be found on that resource page. The songs (some in the early production stage) can also be found for FREE, posted week by week, at the Fighter Verse Songs blog.

The Word of Our God Will Stand Forever

2012-01-07T00:19:00.183-06:00

The grass withers, the flower fades,
but the Word of our God will stand forever.
~Isaiah 40:8~

Isaiah 40:8 has been a favorite scripture of mine for a long time. When we began homeschooling thirteen years ago, this was the verse we chose to capture our vision of what would be most important to pass on to our children among all the many things I found exciting and beautiful to share with them.

On those long days when all the children were little–homeschooling the oldest one, with a pre-schooler, a toddler, and a baby–I would literally whisper this to myself....

...the laundry piles will fade, these dishes will be ground to dust ~ but the Word will not return empty...the Word we teach to our children will stand forever...

Over the years, when the light was just right, I would stand in amazement, struck with the beauty of a sunset over a field, the flowers dazzling in the light, the colors of the grass shifting and seeming to praise God with their dance and I would remember... The grass withers, the flower fades but the Word of our God will stand forever... and have a moment where awe struck deep in my soul.

Last Summer, the same day I really looked at the grass of the field, I discovered that Peter declares this Word to be the very Gospel of God...it was as if the light of the glory of the Gospel just pierced into my heart.

....love one another earnestly from a pure heart, since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God; for

“All flesh is like grass

and all its glory like the flower of grass.

The grass withers,

and the flower falls,

but the Word of the Lord remains forever.”

And this Word is the Good News that was preached to you.
~1 Peter 1:22-25

This truth puts my life in perspective, sifts my priorities, and causes me to humbly and joyfully bow in worship.

So, what better verse to start off a year of recommitment to memorizing scripture.

Each week our church is encouraged to memorize a verse or passage of scripture. This week has been the beginning of a new cycle of verses... a fresh start... and the verse for this first week of 2012 has been Isaiah 40:8 ~ which was especially nice for me as I have been stumbling in recent years with only half memorizing and then forgetting the verses and I already have this one memorized! So a bonus gift for me.

And another gift, is that my husband put this verse to song this week... and I love it.

I really, really, love it. I love it so much that I have spent hours figuring out how to use HTML formatting on this blog (which I assure you is not my gift) to share it right here with everyone! So here it is...

May the Lord cause us all to cherish his Word this year and always.

~Sara~

Memory Verse Resources: For those who are interested in the memory verse program that our church has designed and uses, information can be found here...Fighter Verse Program. A list of this year's suggested weekly verses can be found on this page on our church's website (our family prints that list, which includes the scripture texts, and we make our own resources out of it). For professionally designed curriculum resources related to the program, go here... Fighter Verse Resources. If you are interested in using songs to help you hide the Word of God in your heart, CDs from the Fighter Verse Song project that my husband has been involved in can also be found on that resource page. The songs (some in the early production stage) can also be found for FREE, posted week by week, at the Fighter Verse Songs blog. Blessings to all of you in 2012.

Tips for using the Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan

2011-12-30T14:11:00.019-06:00

It's been really fun to hear from people who are getting excited about Bible reading! For those who are going to use my no-dates, you're never behind, Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan (my five bookmark lists can also be found at the very bottom of this post), I thought I'd copy in Grant Horner's Secrets to Success from his original Professor Grant Horner's Bible Reading System. I do recommend his original Ten Bookmarks plan though I'm not able to do that much reading during this season of my life. And his entire original article is worth reading for inspiration and understanding how I am using my bookmarks.

And now... The Secrets to Success

Read one chapter from each list each day; in one sitting or two. At the end of a book; go to the next book. At the end of the list; start it again. Do it in the order of the numbers on the bookmarks...1...2...3, etc. (Sara's note: He has stated other places that the order of the bookmarks is the least important aspect. I do like the order as it starts and ends in the New Testament and has poetry in the middle.)
Read quickly (without “speed-reading”) in order to get the overall sense. Read as fast as you comfortably can with moderate retention. You’re not studying deeply or memorizing; shoot for 5–6 minutes per chapter. At the end of a chapter, move immediately to the next list.
Get through the text— no dawdling, back reading, looking up cross-references!
There are different ‘kinds’ of reading: super-quick skimming, careful moderate-paced, studying the text, deep meditation. You should be between the first and second kind.
Most people decrease their time spent and increase their retention after just two-three weeks! I now read and retain the entire text of Matthew in 35 minutes, Romans in 20, Genesis in one hour!
Don’t look up anything you ‘don’t get’ — real understanding will come through contextualizing by reading a lot of scripture over time. Get through the text!
If you miss a day or two — ok, get over it, then keep going. Don’t cover yourself in sackcloth and ashes and quit! Move the bookmarks along, to find your place(s) quickly next day.
The goal of this system is simple, and twofold: To know scripture, and to love and obey God more!

SOLI DEO GLORIA

Professor Grant Horner

My favorite line is "no dawdling, back reading, looking up cross-references!" I've found my retention actually increases when I take that drastic advice. :)

And remember, my personal rule of "No catching up... and no guilt!" Just find the bookmark, read, and dwell in the Word right there where the Lord has led you for this particular day. Abide with Him and enjoy His unmerited grace! Many times in the past few months, I've only headed for my "favorite" bookmark or whichever one sounds most interesting, and just read one chapter right before total exhaustion hits at bedtime (or I'm interrupted mid-afternoon as the case may be). I think that is fine! The Lord is speaking to us through all of His inspired Word–one verse, one chapter, or five chapters at a time. The Bible wasn't written with a calendar and schedule attached. The bookmarks are designed to be ongoing and rotating no matter the pace of reading. I started this plan originally in July. . . no dates and no pressure. I just love that part.

Again ~ anyone who'd like my five bookmarks (see the bottom of this post), just please email me at sara.junkdrawer@gmail.com and I'll be happy to send you a pdf to print, cut out, and use (including instructions).

By the grace of our Lord Jesus, may we all be eager to enjoy the privilege of reading and dwelling in the Word, for our joy and His glory.

Blessings!

~Sara~

Sara's Five Bookmark lists, and the no-dates, you're-never-behind Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan can be found here . . . Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan.

My original post on why FIVE Bookmarks, where the idea came from, and my thinking on it... can be found here.

(Sara's Five Bookmark Lists can also be found right below this picture of the bookmarks!)

Sara’s Five Bookmarks •

Read one chapter per day, per bookmark. At the end of a book, start the next book on the bookmark. At the end of the bookmark list, go back to the beginning. Use one bookmark, two bookmarks, or five - just keep moving the bookmarks a chapter at a time. If you miss a day or more… no catching up! Just find your bookmarks and dwell in the Word right where He has led you.

1. Gospels and Acts • Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts ( 117 chapters)

2. Books of Moses and Psalms • Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Psalms • (337 chapters)

Note: I recommend starting with Psalms if you are beginning this in January and you've tried many plans over the years - just to avoid reading Genesis again first, in the dead of winter.

4. Wisdom and History • Proverbs, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings, 1 & 2Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther • (280 chapters)

Email me at sara.junkdrawer@gmail.com if you'd like the Five Bookmarks .pdf to print and cut out at home (plus instructions).

Bookmarks adapted from:

Professor Grant Horner’s Bible Reading System – Ten Lists Plan

(Which I highly recommend if you can read ten chapters a day!) His system is fully explained in this document…. He encourages the sharing of his system and his bookmark lists :

http://www.scribd.com/doc/12349985/Professor-Grant-Horners-Bible-Reading-System

Romans 15:5 ~

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

'Tis the Season...for Bible reading plans?

2011-12-29T01:41:00.017-06:00

'Tis the the season for me to try to figure out what plan to use for Bible reading in 2012.

Earlier this year I wrote about discovering, using, and enjoying Professor Grant Horner's Ten Lists system. He has Ten Lists which can be turned into ten bookmarks that have you reading one chapter from ten different places in the Bible each day. It's sounds chaotic and overwhelming at first, but there were many things I liked about his system.

A few favorites...

•No dates, so no feeling behind. No guilt for missed days! Just find your place, read, and keep going.

I repeat...no guilt!

•Variety of Bible book genres each day. (Gospels, Poetry, History, Prophets, Epistles, etc.)

•The "lists" are all different lengths so the Bible readings line up differently with each other over time, speaking to me in new ways and showing new (and exciting) things about God and His redemptive plan that is revealed and woven all the way through all the books.

•The lists put books in different seasons over time, again because the lists are of varying lengths.

If, like me, you have tried many reading plans over the years

and are quite tired of reading Genesis in January,

it is a real treat to have a plan that varies seasonally!

•Plus, I really did enjoy reading in ten places. It captured my attention and, surprisingly, I didn't have any trouble following the flow of things even in so many places.

BUT... I totally failed at finding (making) the time to read ten chapters a day once Summer ended. And that was even before I discovered I was pregnant and had extra fatigue and (all day) morning sickness for the first time in many years. Every time I did pick up my Bible, I was very happy to find the faithful bookmarks sitting there waiting for me so my fuzzy brain knew where to read, but I hardly ever got through all ten bookmarks in one day.

Often, though, I could manage half the lists and finish up the next day.

So that gave me an idea. What if I made my own book marks, my own lists, and I was only reading five chapters a day and still no pressure if I miss a day from time to time (or more often)? Something that takes 20-30 minutes a day?

Just. Keep. Moving. Instead of giving up and thinking I need to wait and start all over again with Genesis and Matthew in January!

So, 'tis the season for me to make a plan to be in the Word in some systematic way this upcoming year and I've decided to stick with the bookmark type plan. I'm quite a ways in and will keep my place where I've been reading, but I've modified it to Five Lists which I've made into Five Bookmarks. I'm giving all credit to Professor Grant Horner, because all I've done is combine his lists in a way that seems good to me, and possible during this upcoming season of my life.

For those who might be interested, I'm going to share my lists here - along with my no-dates, you're-never-behind, Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan.

Sara’s Five Bookmarks • Read one chapter per day, per bookmark. (Or whatever you can manage - just keep moving the bookmarks at your own pace - one bookmark, two bookmarks, or five)

1. Gospels and Acts • Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts ( 117 chapters)

2. Books of Moses and Psalms • Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Psalms • (337 chapters) (I recommend starting with Psalms if you are beginning this in January and you've tried many plans over the years - just to avoid reading Genesis again first, in the dead of winter)

3. Poetry and Prophets • Job, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi • (312 chapters)

4. Wisdom and History • Proverbs, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings, 1 & 2Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther • (280 chapters)

5. New Testament Epistles • Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, 1 & 2 Thessalonians, 1 & 2 Timothy, Titus, Philemon, Hebrews, James, 1 & 2 Peter 1, 2 & 3 John, Jude, Revelation • (145 chapters)

Email me at sara.junkdrawer@gmail.com if you'd like the actual Sara's Five Bookmarks .pdf to print and cut out at home (with these instructions).

Note: One thing I have done this past year in using the bookmark system is make a tiny dot (.) at the end of each chapter when I finish it, so that if the bookmarks fall out (or are taken out, chewed, and ripped by a baby–as happened more than once to mine) or if I miss several days of reading, I can easily find my place and get going again. One of Professor Horner's strong suggestions is using the same Bible for reading all the time, and I like to read a paper (rather than digital) Bible so this (the tiny dot markings) works well for me.

My goal is NOT to get through these lists in one year, but just to read widely and consistently this year (and always) in the Bible. Although if one did read these five bookmark lists consistently, one would get through all the Bible at least once, and the New Testament books at least twice ~ even skipping 28 days entirely. But, one of my own personal rules is "never try to catch up" just pick up and read where the bookmarks are, and abide in the Word that day by His grace.

I thought this a wise comment on Bible reading...

"I don’t want to master God’s Word. I want God, through his Word, to master me. And I’ve got a long way to go." ~Bob Kauflin, in his excellent and encouraging explanation of why and how he is using the Ten Lists plan.

Most important to remember is that our Lord has called us to abide with Him, and yet nowhere in the Bible is there any requirement that anyone read through the Bible in one year or with any particular plan. I do believe being in the Word brings joy, and allows us to abide in Him, and for this reason (among others) I desire a great hunger for the Word so that I may pursue it for love and joy, and not for duty.

(For more tips on using the bookmark system...click here)

Lord,

...In Your presence is fullness of joy. Psalm 16:11.

Please, grant us that gift.

~Sara~

*Professor Grant Horner's Original Bible Reading System, and his thoughts on it can be found here.

For a "just the plan, please" explanation my no-dates, you're-never-behind Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan (Basically, Sara's Five Bookmarks plus Instructions) go here.

Email me at sara.junkdrawer@gmail.com for a pdf of Sara's Five Bookmarks with instructions.

No Child Left Inside

2011-10-13T17:27:00.005-05:00

We had a bit of fun yesterday on Facebook, of all places. For those of you who missed it, and for the sake of posterity and remembrance, I'm going to share it here. ~Sara~

ps. a big thank you to more than a dozen friends who chimed in on the original conversation, adding much delight to my afternoon.

Status Post:

Younger kids aged 8,6,5,3 and 2 outside enthusiastically and cheerfully building a village with outlined foundations of leaves, artifacts gathered from here and there, and much imagination. In light of the six months of winter just ahead and the coffee on the table in my peaceful dining room... having trouble mustering up the will power to call them inside to "do school."

Comments:

Ms. Shull,

I see that your students are not in their classroom today.

Could you please explain... ;-)

Sincerely,

Mr. Shull

Principal Shull,

You'll please notice that I have followed the guidelines set forth by your own policy established in 1998, entiltled "No Child Left Inside" - item 503.1 (Not Squandering Autumn in Minnesota). :)

Sincerely,

Ms. Shull

Ms. Shull,

I am well aware of item 503.1 and grateful for your close adherence to this most important value in our schooling system. My significant concern was that you had failed to follow through with subpoint 503.1.34 ensuring that, and I quote, "students will be appropriately dressed in pajamas and barefoot during outdoor activities when said activities occur before the school day has commenced." Can you please explain?

Sincerely,

Mr. Shull

Oh, dear. Mr. Shull,

I do see that I failed in that respect. I had insisted on outdoor clothing prior to letting them go outdoors - thus the confusion regarding whether I was in fact complying with and appealing to 503.1 or intending to "do school". The majority however, were indeed barefoot, and a good time was had by all which I believe was the original spirit, if not the letter, of the law. I promise to review all the subpoints of 503.1 so as to ensure that all the children have the most benefit of the No Child Left Inside policy as established in 1998.

Sincerely,

Ms. Shull.

Ms. Shull,

It was a relief to hear your response and to know that you are indeed complying with, as you say, the spirit of our "No Child Left Inside" initiative. Thank you for kindly seeing to full compliance in the future. And what pleases me perhaps most in this matter is to know that you will still be eligible to be nominated by your students for the Teacher of the Year award.

Sincerely,

Principal Shull

Living happily-ever-after

2011-10-10T21:25:00.000-05:00

In honor of the twenty-fifth anniversary of our first date, I'm re-posting this poem...written on a perfect day for remembering. So thankful to be celebrating the first quarter-century of Happily Ever After with my true love. Very Thankful.

An Anniversary Day

Skipping leaves and half dressed trees
   seem pleased about the warmish days.

The sun grows soft and big while sailing deeper to the south.
   Evening's long shadows escape to chase our feet at noon.

That same sun spins out golden strands of memory
   that bind me to a day just like today.

Warm sun, warm hands, warm cookies
   dripping ice cream on a cozy hill.
   Kaleidoscopes of dazzled light shift across our jeans
   and draw our eyes to red leaves up above.

The leaves that in their lazy way
   drift down and down to make mosaics
   on the bright green all around.

The golden strands that day wove hazy screens
   to push out time and place and people all around.
   A golden day that witnessed bonded hearts
   those many years ago.

Those golden strands this day wrap warm memories
   around and leave me feeling seventeen and loved
   while standing in the grass.

Eyes closed with face set toward the reddish glow
   . . . for moments I could be both here and there.

His ringing laughter calls to me across the years,
   and also strong and real around the bend.

Smiling, warm, beloved still
   . . . I turn around and walk into today.

   ~Sara~

"O, magnify the Lord with me,
and let us exalt His name together!"
   ~Psalm 34:3

Days of gold

2011-10-08T18:20:00.002-05:00

Golden days, few and precious.

Roads are made in leaves under the tree.

Trucks, rakes, balls half-buried in the piles.

Orange, reds, and yellows curl and crisp and turn to brown.

And still the trees are full of blazing flags...

their rustled thankfulness is on the wind.

My soul quiets to the sound.

Sunbeams filter down in Autumn angles

through the canopy of leaves.

Kaleidoscopes of brilliant, dancing patterns on the grass.

The baby laughs and tries to catch the light.

Moments to treasure when the color fades

and all is gray…

or is this Joy a gift for just today?

O soul, rejoice!

My whispered praise is added to the wind.

~Sara~

A story of giving thanks

2011-09-03T20:33:00.000-05:00

Last month, in the midst of having so much to do, I decided to read a book. Although I had plenty to do in every area of my life, including pre-reading a stack of books for my 8th grader's school year, I was really longing to use some of my Summer down-time reading something good, just for me. At the same time, I started hearing about a book called Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. Now, I had never even heard of Wendell Berry or his eight novels, including this Hannah Coulter which was published in 2004. So when, within a two-day-period, I saw this book recommended in book reviews by three people I respect it, I sat up and paid attention. I don't believe in coincidences. It seemed as if this book was being handed to me by a gentle hand, as I was lovingly urged to read.

Hannah Coulter was sitting on the shelf at the library, waiting for me.

Oh, what beautiful writing. Fully prose, but striking deep in the soul like poetry. This is the story of Hannah, born in 1922, a child during the depression, mostly raised by a remarkable grandmother, widowed young by WWII, finding a new life after and widowed again, old after a 50 year marriage. A story of community and connections and generational change. Early in the telling she says, "This is my story, my giving of thanks." I'm not even going to try to make a summary, but I will say that I can't remember any other book where I so identified with the narrator: falling in love as she fell in love, grieving as she grieved, hoping as she hoped, disappointed as she was disappointed, present to the reality of her life, lived fully in her present, and yet always remembering and looking forward, too. Smiling, even laughing out loud in many places, and at other times crying quiet tears down my cheeks, tears of joy and of sorrow. Nodding my head at her wisdom.

Afterwards when I was sharing some of this with Kevin and my older girls, Grace commented (not really knowing whether this was a true story or not), "But, Mom, she's not really real, right? I mean, it's fiction?" For a few seconds, I felt a little confused. She had become very real to me.

I'm not quite sure why this book hit me so deeply, perhaps it is where I'm standing in my own life. So easily remembering my youth and the beginning of our love now continuing in happy marriage while the fullest of years of child rearing and the urgency of life presses in on all sides, I usually think of myself as young. And yet, my oldest daughter, Grace, started college last week. And though she is living at home and tightly bound to my heart, I start to understand the season that begins for a mother when children test their wings out of the nest, and finally fly away. I think I felt my age for the first time as Kevin and I stood side by side, hands upon her, praying for her, at the Celebration and Commitment Service that officially began her college years––even though later that same night I snuggled and nursed my young baby to sleep. I also can see forward to the growing old together and the seasons to come. I'm standing in the middle of it all. I want to live my life, like Hannah, like a story of giving thanks.

I also became interested in Wendell Berry. What man can write a woman's story that makes another woman weep and laugh through tears? His story is interesting as well: Kentucky born, academic, writer who doesn't own a computer, sustainable organic farmer who uses horses instead of machines, husband of 54 years plus, activist, conservationist, consistently pro-life from womb to grave, anti-war, a progressive thinker accused of archaic traditionalism...and a Christian. I plan to read all of his novels . . . perhaps (if I can stand the wait) after I get a few more of those school-prep books crossed off of my list.

I said good-bye to Hannah just this morning, and I won't forget her soon.

~Sara~

These are the good old days. (Part 2)

2011-08-21T23:25:00.001-05:00

(Continued from Part 1)

The Barn Removal Project.

Or as we've come to call it, the Barn Razing (as in completely destroy and remove all traces of existence).

When we moved to this house and property, seven years ago, there was an old barn standing on its last legs. A barn with a leaking wooden roof, rotten beams, and due to the (now wet) straw insulating the walls, rotten everything. When we had our inspection prior to buying this house, the inspector told us the barn was condemned and we should not let anyone go in it. As a matter of fact, I never did go in it. We put a barrier of snow fencing around it to keep the kids away. Our insurance company had no problem with having us sign an "exclusion" of that building and so over the past years we've let trees and grass and weeds grow up around and through that old barn while it slowly and then finally sank to its knees. Old steel siding folded in, then covered the fallen barn as if with a blanket for its last sleep. In the Summer, it was hidden by the wild of green. In the Winter, it was covered with snow. Other than glancing at it over in a corner of the now non-existent farm yard in a nostalgic sort of way, we never thought of it at all.

Until the letter came. The letter explaining that we had 30 days to remove (or rebuild!) the barn or our insurance would drop us. Really? What about that exclusion? Well, that was then and this is now. The barn must go.

This letter coincided with a letter from our insurance agent telling us that our insurance company had become difficult to work with in the rural areas, she would no longer be representing them . . . and would we like to switch to a new company, one that would save us hundreds of dollars in the process? "Why, yes indeed. How convenient!" we thought. Then we discovered that the new, friendly company also required removal of the barn––in fact all companies were now in agreement that the potentially dangerous old building would need to be removed. And soon. Within 30 days of our new policy's start date. By the end of August.

We literally stood staring at that thing, completely hidden by overgrowth, wondering how on earth we could solve this problem. Our preference for an easy answer . . . professional demo, sorting, removal, hauling and dumping was looking to cost many thousands of dollars. So that was not an option. We heard lots of advice . . . "People love that old barnwood! They'll even remove it for you!" Or . . . "Dig a big hole and just shove it in there - that's what the old farmers do." Or . . . "Have the fire department burn it for practice! That's only $600-800." Or . . "Wait until winter, push it all into a field and just burn the whole thing." Dear Mr. Friend suggested shoving it just ten feet north of the property line (through a few trees) and then claim it was his problem! All intriguing ideas, but things we couldn't well achieve on a shoe-string budget, no large equipment, nearby flammable buildings and trees, those pesky new environmental rules about burying things, and a 30-day timeline.|

Finally, we thought of one possibility. It seemed a bit too easy and so probably wouldn't work. Could we burn it gradually on a campfire sized fire, piece by piece, sorting and saving the good to give away, and burning the bad? Working on it all of August? With a five-dollar burn permit? At times we thought- "Yes! We can do it!" A minute later we thought of other details - "No! This is impossible!" After all, this was completely not on the agenda this year. How could we spend that much time on it, all of us working, even if it worked? Three weeks ago, just before the date we were set to begin, we were very discouraged. The type of discouragement that makes your eyes fly wide open in the middle of the night with anxiety, but also causes you to cry out to the Lord for help. The type of discouragement you see in each other that makes you want to smile and be brave and say out loud "It's all going to be OK."

I started mentioning this "barn project" to friends and the response was always the same. A surprising enthusiasm, encouragement to ask others to help, and even to think of it as a party. A definite intrigue with the idea of an old barn whether it was going up or coming down. A universal desire to be a part of such old-fashioned, hard, manual work. A desire for their kids to have a chance to do that sort of "real" work. An outpouring of love and offers from many, and genuine sadness on the part of those who had other plans and couldn't come help. After all, that barn was put together by hand (and we imagine with the help of friends and family), why not pull it apart piece by piece with the help of friends and family? It sounds like The Good Old Days.

So we asked for help. And help came. Mr. Friend came with his backhoe and his skilled use of it, and what we would have done without him I don't know. He has come early (accommodating us by waiting until 6:30am, when he'd been up since 4:00), and late–when Kevin got home from his city job. Whenever the big machine and his expertise would be of assistance. Fathers and sons have come to help, moms and a kid or two, entire families, and men alone or in pairs. One day of particular progress we had two adult men in the morning, rain in the afternoon, and then a family with six children came to help in the mud of the evening. All these friends along with our own work crew did remove that barn. I expected it to take every bit of that 30 days. I was expecting to be rushed in the end. But that's not what happened.

In just six days the major work was done––and we had even taken one day off for sheer exhaustion, and the good excuse of rain. We breathed a sigh of relief and scheduled one more work day and more help arrived, just at the right time, even after we turned a few away because we thought rain would ruin the day. Now, just the odds and ends of splintered wood and dirt remain. Sorted wood, still good for use, is sitting here and there, but the barn is gone. We can prove it with photos for our insurance file. We are so thankful for the answer to our prayers that came through our Brothers and Sisters and good hard (but doable) work for our family. The type of answer that teaches us all (not just the children) that the Lord still moves mountains.

Which is what reminds me that these are The Good Old Days, the days the Lord has planned for us. I want to recognize it as we go along, and not just with hindsight of years to come or through the romantic lens that doesn't see the grit in these good days. I want to see it all and still feel the goodness. The days of family, friends, and children still at home. Of hard work, too, and impossible needs. The days full of challenges that answer our prayers that our children will be prepared for lives of their own. Lessons provided by floods, and vans breaking down, and mothers on crutches when the house guests arrive, and hard work on barns, and depending on Brothers and Sisters when we'd rather not be in need. Lessons from hearing mom and dad praying for something to work out, with a feeble sort of faith. Praying themselves because they know it's something we really need, something really important that we can't make happen on our own. And then seeing the answers come one after another. And after that, seeing the greater provision of the Lord's design in all of these things, better than any plan we would have made for this Summer––back when we thought coffee on the deck, family bike rides, and maybe building a tree house (to teach the kids how to work a bit) was the best plan. The plan that defines and meets our needs, burns away the chaff, and draws us closer to Him.

I've looked at that barn coming down, looked at the friends coming together to offer hours of hard work, looked at the pieces of old wood and the old-time nails, looked at beams of the barn made of unmilled logs, and thought of that time of tremendous hard work on this farm 100 years ago when that barn was new. Work without machines and nearly without rest. Work without a hot shower at the end of the day. An exhausted sleep on a hot summer night without fans or A/C. A tenacity to build from the ground up, with no guarantee of success, that we can hardly imagine. Building projects, hoping for a good crop, investing in animals and newfangled machines. Thousands of days preparing meals and feeding animals and cleaning up and making do. Marriages and children. Gains and loss. Hard times and good times and daily chores. Times spent on knees in prayer and times asking friends for help. Answers and help provided.

The Good Old Days.

Lord, let me lean into these days and live life to the full as it unfolds . . . with thankfulness, trusting in You for the plan.

~Sara~

ps. Kevin just came home and said a friend of ours (that we haven't seen in months) offered us a load of oak firewood, already cut, that they really have no use of. Could we use it? My eyes are glistening. More answers to prayer. One concern of the barn project was that Kevin and the kids had no time to begin to work on cutting the free firewood available from Mr. Friend's land for this winter (which we use for the major source of heat for our home). This friend, with no knowledge of our need, offers an answer to a prayer barely asked in passing. Whispered lest we ask for too much. I am thankful and amazed. (The "load" turned out to be THREE cords.)

It's all humor and poetry.

2011-08-16T22:31:00.003-05:00

Sometimes people get the impression that life at our house must be all humor and poetry. I'm here with proof that this is, indeed, true.

This summer has been a big one for big storms.

We've had storms that did damage with 70 mph straight line winds. Some of it quite severe. In our little area of Minnesota, thousands of trees went down in not one, but two separate storms. Huge, old towering trees pulled up from the roots. Oaks snapped off ten feet above the ground. Four of Mr. Friend's tree line pines, planted in 1950, fell thunderously to the ground just missing his house. We ourselves lost a few trees-including a much beloved old orchard apple tree. It fell and smashed a younger tree we were hoping would take its place.

The orchard apple tree, old already in 2005

We've seen crazy winds toss the big outdoor playhouse about 40 feet to a new location, random objects fly through the air, and heard that loud hail pounding the house. We've lost power on hot humid nights and a couple of times, we've had to make our way down to the old cellar for tornado warnings.

Did I mention the time we ran from a tornado in our van? That was last year, but still fresh in our minds. It was like a scene from a movie, with a tree limb falling across the road right in front of our path as Dad slammed on the brakes to avoid a major collision, just as it came into focus, huge in the illumination of the headlights. The screaming in the van was soundtrack perfect. We sheltered that one out actually in the vehicle, parked close up to an L corner behind a big building.

Anyway, perhaps it's not surprising that some of the kids have gotten a bit skittish about the weather and (mildly) obsessed with watching the radar for potential danger. We suspect this may actually lead our nearly 12-year-old Nat to become a TV weather man. He's got the smile, the personality, and now he's talking weather all the time. In any case, he has not yet made peace with his weather interest, though he has learned a ton about weather patterns and is frequently looking up weather news on the internet this summer.

Today, he was a bit freaked out by the big storm system headed our way on the radar. It was one of those long lines of stormfront with a big area of red in the middle, surrounded by a lot of yellow, and a fringe of green. Of course, our house is a pin on that computerized radar map, and that monster was headed right towards us. Pretty much a bulls-eye. The fact that the accompanying text info included no warnings for severe weather, and the forecast called only for several hours of very heavy rain, did little to reassure him. That thing did look serious. "What if their interpretation of the data is just wrong?" he asked with a nervous half-laugh.

What, indeed?

Teasing him, I said, “Nat, you shouldn’t be scared. It’s beautiful! It’s powerful! You should write poetry about it! That’s what I do… (wink)”

Nat’s quick deadpan response, “OK, how about a Haiku…" and as he counted off the syllables on his fingers, out came the following gem on his first try.

The storm is coming

And it is really scary

I’m going to die

At this point everyone, including him, burst into laughter. His sisters begged him to let me share this and he readily agreed. After all, the storm came and it was nothing but a lot of rain. He is most likely going to survive until morning. But if not? At least he has left this poem as a legacy.

See what I mean? It's all humor and poetry.

~Sara~

Sweet summer evening, after rain.

2011-08-13T21:05:00.002-05:00

Sweet summer evening, after rain.

When the light is just right.

Soft, with scattered spots of fire

in raindrops left behind.

And there’s that golden glow

that burns along the edges of the leaves.

Each leaf, it seems, would be consumed,

but is instead transformed

into transparent living gems.

The light so bright in shifting spaces,

pure white

between the shadows and the green,

and shafts shine down

on laughing children on the grass.

Life itself slows down so we can catch a glimpse of glory,

and feel the gentle ache between each heart beat.

A homesickness for promised times we’ve yet to know.

The birds, so bold at other times

are calling softly, shyly

in the quiet of the almost night.

Perhaps they feel it, too.

An eagerness to look ahead, into the glow.

~Sara~

These are the good old days. (Part 1)

2011-08-11T22:31:00.004-05:00

At the beginning of May this year, we were looking forward to the Summer, just amazed at how wide open the days looked. We had two greatly anticipated trips on the calendar. Otherwise, it looked like a long lazy Summer was in store for our family. We dreamed of family bike rides, coffee on the deck, reading outside on the big swing, painting sheds, and building a chicken coop, or perhaps a tree house, with all that extra time.

Turns out, the days the LORD had planned for us were not exactly what we had in mind.

Just after returning home from our first whirlwind trip (a wonderful family wedding weekend) we discovered our basement contained a lake. Yes, with all the rain this year, our basement was now sitting IN the water table. Eighteen inches of water surprised me when I went down to get something out of storage. All of our plastic bins containing off season and hand me down clothes had floated and turned over and leaked (requiring drying outside on the old fashioned laundry lines while waiting for a wash and dry inside, fifteen extra loads of laundry in our big machines) and the bottom of our furnace, a dehumidifier, and a fan were underwater. Lots of shoes, old toys, and miscellaneous stuff (junk) ruined. That same day, our main breaker went out (as we turned it off to be safe in the water) and it needed to be replaced. Without electricity, our well pump doesn't work, so no running water. The hot water was out anyway, and we had visions of propane bubbling up through the water. Better women than myself could have cleaned up from this in a few days. It took me, even with everyone helping, the better part of three weeks.

I was officially done with flood clean-up the day before we left for a two week road trip. That trip, too, was full of the unexpected. A break-down on the Great Plains on a 100 degree day on a Sunday morning with no repairs in sight. A limping, unsteady 70 mile drive that (thankfully!) returned us safely to Grandmom's welcoming, air conditioned home. A drive in a borrowed car, five hours round trip, to get the only rental van available in the state of Kansas. A nice beautiful new rental van that wouldn't haul our trailer. A four hour re-packing job to pare down our carefully selected originally packed items (plenty of room in that trailer) down to an amount that would fit inside the rental van with us (a sight to behold). We left at least half our stuff in our trailer in Grandmom's driveway, ready to pick up, along with our repaired van, on our way back home.

Hearing the details of 'the-day-we-drove-eight-hours-and-went-nowhere' my mother (on the phone, waiting for us at our destination in beautiful Colorado) cheerfully commented "I hear a blog entry in all this!" It was hard to laugh along in the crabby, sweaty, tired atmosphere of that evening while we repacked in the hot and humid evening air.

We did have a great vacation. Interspersed with the beauty and excitement of that Mountain trip (which was given to us as a gift, including that rental van, by generous grandparents) were a few more misadventures. We lost track of a child in Vail, CO, who was found by the nice local police before we even knew he had left the big Pirate Ship playground. He, just six-years-old, mistakenly thought we had left him behind and had run for the car (far away in a parking garage) while the rest of us (five adults, two teens, eleven younger kids ) continued to enjoy the playground full of children and a stream nearby.

By the time we were packing up and commenting "Hey, where is Sam . . . has anyone seen Sam?" the above-mentioned nice police man came up and asked me, "Are you looking for a boy in a red shirt."

Me, cheerfully, "Why, Yes!"

His serious response, "We've had him for ten minutes."

Oh no!

Though they told us he'd been so upset he was unable to talk much, once they brought him back to us, right where we'd been all along, he settled down after a few minutes of being strongly held by Dad. It turns out for this particular boy, believing you've been forgotten is quite traumatic, but finding out you just made a mistake about that and thus discovered you have an uncanny ability to make your way back through the winding streets of a village to the place where your parents parked the van, meeting nice people who help you out, and policemen who take you right back where you started is just an adventure. Of course, we are extremely thankful things turned out so well and I did have several panic attacks about the whole thing later that night. And I'm giving up my nomination for Mother of the Year.

Did I mention I got thrown from a horse? Yep, about a minute after I was taking deep breaths of cool mountain air, praising God for the truly awesome view, and thinking how peaceful and quiet it is to travel on horseback. I didn't even have that moment where you think 'Oh, no! I'm falling!" Nope. One second I see the horse getting kicked by one of his horsey friends and without any time passing . . . my face is resting in dust and my only thought, "I'm on the ground," was accompanied by small explosions of pain in my shoulder, hip and knee. I didn't notice the cuts on my hands or broken fingernails at first. But, with 18 anxious members of my family watching and calling out in concern, and not wanting to miss or ruin that ride and campfire dinner adventure, I did get back up on that horse, and thankfully there were no serious injuries. I was rewarded with one particularly impressive bruise on my hip, and a limp which eventually required crutches . . . the week we had four extra great kids stay with us for a much anticipated "Camp" week at our own house, beginning two days after we got home from vacation.

Fast forward a few more days through 4th of July back at Grandmom's (her basement flooded, too!) and past County Fair week (I guess I didn't have that on the calendar way back in May) which brings us to...

. . . the BIG unexpected, impossible, and nearly overwhelming task that we did not once think we'd have to face this Summer–which we discovered we would have to accomplish one way or another before the end of August . . . and my point for bringing up all this in the first place.

The part that makes me remember that these ARE the good old days.

But it's getting late, so I think I'd better leave that for a second entry. I'll try to write it soon.

~Sara~

(Part 2 can be found here)

Journal Snapshots ~ Summer Catch-Up 2011

2011-08-07T20:30:00.034-05:00

Hello Family, Friends, and die-hard Shull Family Fans everywhere . . . it's time for another episode of Journal Snapshots! An insider's look at the more lighthearted moments in our household, at least from my point of view.

~Sara~

Dad to a grinning 10-year-old who started off a round of family Bananagrams with a nine letter word, "It's really not fun playing with people like you." :)

Baby Daniel is experiencing his first day of 90s and humidity. He doesn't seem too impressed.

Today is the third time Minneapolis went over 100 degrees in the past century. This historic event makes the snow boots in our front porch look a bit odd.

I do realize that most of the world has little interest in the moodiness of the weather in Minnesota–but I just realized the temp has plunged to 65 though it is still sunny. Everyone has to change clothes before we head to the church picnic! (Local friends... grab a jacket and meet us there?)

‎Grace just received a college recruiting letter trying to convince her that their college (whose name we shall not reveal) was the right place for her to live out her college dreams. We became suspicious they might not actually possess the key to her future as we read the beginning of the letter:

Hello [NAME]...

Ah, Juneuary! Perhaps a little fire in the fireplace?

Helpful tip for boys: While it is manly and exciting to see how far one can throw, it is best not to use one's siblings' rubber boots for the purpose, especially when throwing into the hayfield and the grass is taller than one's head. Thank you. (Yes, Dear, our boys . . . they've found all but one)

Big brother Nat (age 11), thinking of the explosive properties of propane when he went outside to find his 4-year-old brother standing on top of the big outdoor tank: "Jon, what are you doing?! Get down! You shouldn't be up there!"

Jon scrambling down, looking concerned: "Is that a Ten Commandment!???"

Singing this in my head today: How deep the Father's love for us, how vast beyond all measure...

At Grandmom Joan's, where fireworks are legal . . . I walk outside to find Dad with all the kids huddled around various smoking, sparkling, crackling and snapping items.

Ruthie greets me with a huge grin:

"Oooooo Mom! We're blowin' stuff up!"

Last night's winner for Funniest Dinner Table Comment: 6-year-old Sam, after staring out into space over his half-eaten supper for a few moments, suddenly asked, "Can I have a snack?"

Windows all open, listening to that peaceful rain.

That smell, that sound, that cool breeze...

A gift in July.

County Fair Dog Show this morning for Grace and Lydia (and Boaz and Tipper). Perhaps the predicted 100 plus heat index will have a calming effect on teenage puppy Boaz during his first show? Go girls!

Me to four kids (8, 6, 4, 3) at the County Fair's Kids' Day: "Ok, we're not going to use the stroller so I don't want to carry a lot of water bottles. I'll keep one in my purse that we can share, and if it's so hot you're dying, we can refill it or find a drinking fountain."

 Jon's reply: "Mom, you don't need a drink if you're dying. You need a drink if your tongue is dry."

Sticks out tongue and touches it, to illustrate.

After a particularly exasperating day with our exuberant little Ruthie, she just came up to me and threw her arms around my neck: "You're my best mom! You put my underwear on and you scratch my back."

Big sister Grace was just admiring 2-year-old Zac's very curly hair, "You have gold for hair!" she said to him. And then as he casually walked away, oblivious of the attention, she said in a hilarious accent, "My hair is currency in certain parts of Europe..." (which apparently is a movie quote, but completely cracked me up in any case.)

Feeling bad for 10-year-old Essie that my “quick stop” at the store was dragging on and on, I turned to her and said, “I’m sorry this is taking so long, are you getting impatient?” Her sweet reply, “Well, It’s hard to be impatient when you are doing something this fun.” That really improved my views of shopping at Walmart.

Jonathan pulled away and made a face when I leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek after helping him tie his shoes. “What, no kisses this morning?” I asked.

Jon’s reply, looking at me patiently, “Mom, kisses are for nighttime.”

~ to be continued!

Lord, draw near...

2011-07-27T16:26:00.002-05:00

Rev. John Ames, in Marilynne Robinson's Gilead:

"I mean only respect when I say that your mother has always struck me as someone with whom the Lord might have chosen to spend some part of His mortal time. How odd it is to have to say that after all these centuries. There is an earned innocence, I believe, which is as much to be honored as the innocence of children. . . I can imagine Jesus befriending my grandfather, too, frying up some breakfast for him, talking things over with him, and in fact the old man did report several experiences of just that kind. I can't say the same for myself. I doubt I have the strength for it. This is something that has come to my mind from time to time over the years, and I don't really know what to make of it."

I finished reading Gilead yesterday, and I was blessed by this patient, lovely book. It is full of beauty and truth and the complexity and pain of intergenerational relationships as times change–recognizing how the formative things for each generation (Civil and World Wars, poverty, times of plenty, various world events, educational ideas, influential writers, parenting styles) form varying ideals about how to live out a true and faithful Christian life. Well, that makes it sound dull and preachy and it is anything but that. Many, many things could be said and discussed about this book, but one line really stuck with me over the past few days and has been pressing on my heart as I've been busy and scattered and, yes, far from the loving and attentive mother I hope to be.

If you haven't already guessed, this is the line that echoes and makes me wonder:

". . . your mother has always struck me as someone with whom the Lord might have chosen to spend some part of His mortal time."

Like John Ames himself, I really don't know what to make of it . . . but a great desire for becoming this sort of person wells up inside of me.

O Lord, draw near to me. May you make me into such a woman and wife and mother!

~Sara~

The Old Schoolhouse

2011-07-27T13:59:00.012-05:00

If you are a homeschooler, you might enjoy taking a look at the brand new Summer 2011 digital edition of . . .

   ~The Old Schoolhouse^®Magazine~

. . . which contains the same content and design as the print edition of the Summer 2011 issue which was released this week.

I have an article in the Chapel column on page 24-26. TOS is offering this digital issue of the magazine totally free with no strings attached. Enjoy reading my article and the rest of the magazine–no registration or email address required! If you wish, you may also share this issue of TOS with your friends by clicking on the share button at the top of the magazine pages.

   ~Sara~

(Photo credit: Cover of Summer 2011 issue)

What are we doing?

2011-07-15T16:14:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I am extra thankful for a dose of laughter.

We've had two days of rain here, maybe more, it's hard to remember. I thought it might be gone by this morning, but instead it was darker than ever. Raining that type of soaking, thunder-rumbly, straight down pouring, way-too-much-lightning-to-go-out sort of rain. My own ten kids, plus the four great kids staying with us this week (yes, 14 total), all seemed to have that mournful look on their face so well captured at the beginning of The Cat in the Hat with the boy and the girl looking out the window saying "so we sat in the house all that cold, cold wet day."

Except that my kids were not sitting still looking out the windows in a neat and tidy house. Especially the little ones–they were running around both getting into mischief while not finding anything to do AND interrupting and making life difficult for the older kids who had decided to script and shoot a funny commercial on this inside type of day. A bad combination.

Then The Breeze came and pushed that rain right out of here, the sun came out and shined right into my mommy heart as I realized suddenly everyone could go outside! The wind was even so strong that, if we were lucky, the mosquitoes and deer flies might stay at bay for a little while. Yippee!

I opened wide the door to the deck and the breeze blew into the house. Soon, two amigos and a princess (ages 4, 2, and 3) were out dancing on the deck and hopping in the little puddles and yelling reminders to me that I'd forgotten to take in the tablecloth and it is really, really soaked. The wind was suddenly full of adventure as I saw them clinging to the deck posts like sailors holding on for dear life on a ship at sea, screaming for help from other sailors holding fast to their masts. Smiling, I went back to preparing lunch. Glancing out the window, I saw them across the yard, marching in the big puddle in the baby pool that had been knocked over by the storm. March (splash), march (splash), march (splash).

Oh, my happy heart that Outside was a playroom once again.

Back on the deck again, the warm wind was stronger than ever, and Ruthie's long hair was streaming out nearly sideways to the East. Suddenly Jonathan had an idea, "Hey guys, do this!" he said as he put his index finger up in the air. Without question, two other little index fingers went up, pointing to the sky.

8-year-old Ben came out and saw them standing there and told them, "You have to lick your finger, like this." He showed them, lick, and again point to the sky.

Everyone quite agreeably then licked and pointed their fingers to the sky. Then again, lick and point. Lick and point. The wind was now so strong that they were leaning to the West to keep from being blown to the East.

For a few seconds they just stood there, four kids pointing at the sky.

Suddenly Ruthie asked (yelled, really, because of the wind), "What are we doing?"

Good homeschool mom that I am, my hopes for an impromptu lesson by my scientifically-minded son explaining the detection of wind direction by sensing the cooling effects of evaporation when more technological methods are unavailable were dashed as Jonathan shrugged and looked at Ben who said...

"Oh, I don't know–it's just something you do with the wind."

~Sara~

Times of refreshing

2011-07-14T16:26:00.019-05:00

Windows all open,
listening to that peaceful rain.

That smell, that sound, that cool breeze...

These times of refreshing,
a gift in July.

I started a new and interesting Bible-Reading System (Professor Grant Horner's) which has me reading ten chapters a day, from ten different places in the Bible which sounds confusing (and a bit crazy) at first, but I have found it to be very interesting and attention holding. The thing that attracted me to the plan was that the emphasis is just on reading, reading, reading and only reading . . . not contemplation, study, cross referencing, etc. This was attractive as my mental concentration powers are truly at a low point, and as I'd been going about trying to read the Bible in my normal "small amounts and really pay attention" manner–my mind was wandering, my head was often nodding, and mostly I was losing the fight to just turn off the light, snuggle up with the baby, and go to sleep. When trying to shift my reading times to less sleepy times of the day, I'd find myself re-reading over and over to try to make sure I'd gotten it, and to be honest, I'd largely given up and had been very much out of the Bible reading habit for the past month or two (or more). By last week, I was feeling very distant from the Lord, as happens when starving from the Word, when I read about this system via a friend's timely suggestion. So this read, read, read and fill up on the Word was attractive–like a huge glass of water when you are SO thirsty on a hot day–though I was still skeptical about "just" reading (and the good professor even encourages reading quickly... and no dawdling or back reading or looking up cross-references!) OK, then.

My thought after day one was... wow, you can't read ten chapters from ten books of the Bible and not see that every author is really telling the same story ~ how could these ten very different readings have such similar themes? I was reminded of connections I'd known but forgotten, and parts of my brain were startled awake. Like a sleepy enchantment finally being broken, I hear an urgent "Awake O sleeper! Rise up from the dead, and Christ will give you light!"(Ephesians 5:14). Yes! I want to be awake!

Well, I haven't yet gotten through 30 days (which the designer of this plan recommends for trying it out) but I have already benefited from being back in the Word, even just dipping my toes in–ten toes in ten places. One thing is that throughout the day, the Lord is using His Word to speak truth to me, reminding me of Him in many things throughout the day. Though my impression had been that my comprehension was terrible, in fact, His words are coming to mind as normal everyday things remind me of spiritual things.

Today it was the rain. Cool rain in in the midst of hot summer. So refreshing in a way that causes me to breathe deeply, relax my shoulders, set down my laundry basket, and just sit down and listen to the sound of the rain outside the window. It seemed like a picture to me of the type of refreshing we should have in the Lord. I thought about my friend and her family in a relentlessly hot place on this planet, no air conditioning in sight (95 degrees inside her house), obeying a call to share the good news with a people living in darkness. I longed to send some of this rain to her dry and weary land, this cool breeze, some measure of refreshment . . . and also refreshing in the Lord. And I realized that phrase "that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord" was whispering to me from the reading a few days ago.

May we all have refreshing this week, and most of all ~ times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.

~Sara~

Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the time for restoring all the things about which God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets long ago. ~Acts 3:19-21

Note/Update: Added 9-9-2011 - I do really like this reading plan, but I haven't been able to keep up with the amount of reading during the school year (or even every day in the Summer!). I'm still doing it very slowly, rotating with the bookmarks but only a few chapters a day and skipping some days. I still like this as a goal...maybe someday. In the meantime, getting all over the Bible has been good for me, even at a very slow pace.

To see how I have adapted this plan with five bookmarks and a "no-dates, you're-never-behind, no-guilt!" approach. Please visit The Bookmarks Bible Reading Plan. Blessings! (January 2012)

The grass of the field

2011-07-13T16:01:00.002-05:00

Ten years ago, I didn't know that grass could grow to wave above my head.

Five years ago, I hadn't noticed that the grass that grows wild around farm fields comes in various hues of browns, yellows, greens and purples and none are the color of a well tended lawn. The colors are rich, both lighter and deeper than I'd expect, and shifting as they wave like water upon a rolling sea. The bigger fields look and sound like a distant ocean on a windy night.

A year ago, Kevin said to me, "I think you should write about grass."

Grass? I really hadn't been looking at grass.

Earlier this week I escaped from the house, remembering that summer is walking its slow pace through the days no matter how pressured I am feeling to do and catch-up and accomplish. Walking along in the truck tracks around the big field, I had to think to breathe and coach myself to feel the evening sun on my face and look around and really notice. Because all of that beauty is there to remind me of reality. Of the God who created it all. And I had to shut off the voices inside my head to listen; because the outside clamor had been left at home, and what I need most, always, is to be listening for His voice. Sometimes that is easier in a field.

The grass along there is so tall that when I walk along with my arms outstretched like a child making airplane wings, my fingers brush right through the purple, feathery heads of the grass–and right at eye level I can see the delicate differences between the varieties of grass in that place–pollen hanging off each little bud in the cluster like miniature flowers. So intricate. I was struck once again by how much there is to see that I never pay attention to, laughing a bit with the wonder of something revealed suddenly right in front of me. . . and there is so much more, secret and mysterious and hidden from our sight, that we can't yet see. Things saved for the eyes of the heart.

So I remembered that Kevin had encouraged me to consider the grass. Remembered that my Lord Jesus gently tells me to consider how God clothes the grass of the field and not be anxious. Remembered that my trust only needs to be childlike. Remembered that life is fleeting, like the glory of the flower of grass. Remembered that, unlike grass, the Word of the Lord stands forever–and that Peter tells us that Word is the good news that has been preached to us. Such a gospel! Who could have imagined?

And it became easier to breathe and enjoy the beauty of that grass waving in the evening breeze, even while it is teaching me its lessons.

~Sara~

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." ~ Matthew 18:3

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." ~ Matthew 6:25-34

“All flesh is like grass

and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord remains forever.”

And this word is the good news that was preached to you.

~ 1 Peter 1:24-25 (quoting Isaiah 40:8)

Journal Snapshots ~ Spring 2011

2011-05-27T19:04:00.040-05:00

~Sara~

In honor of the three distinct illnesses which have invaded our home, we are taking a holiday from school.

Enjoyed a breakfast birthday party for our newest sweet teenager, Lydia, who is turning 13 today! What a blessing to have her as a daughter... much joy for this mother to watch her children unfold and blossom like flowers in the springtime, to see more and more the uniqueness and beauty in each one.

Just sorted Mt. Washmore with the help of the three amigos. Turns out doing the laundry is a lot more fun when wrestling, giggling, and tug-o-war is involved. Who knew?

A bit annoyed that my middle-aged eyes required me to get my reading glasses before I could help Jonathan, I sat back down with a sigh. Jon lifted up my chin and looked at me seriously. Thinking he'd find it funny to see me in glasses (which I don't usually wear), I was prepared for anything but what he said, "Hmm, you look real pretty."

The birds are singing Springtime songs . . . choosing to see the sunshine and ignore the snow.

The third time the boys spilled through the door to the living room, laughing and tussling like a pile of puppies, it finally caught my attention. "What on earth are you guys doing?!?"
   Nat popped up and grinned, "What? Oh! We're cleaning."

Mud Season 101: The brown stuff that is appearing in spots as the snow melts is called "the ground." No, you can't change your clothes every time you get a teaspoon of mud on your jeans. Note: Although 40 degrees feels "so hot", as long as there is ice in the yard, its best not to go barefoot.

Signs that your child will grow up to have a cleaner house than they grew up in. You say "Hey, let's clean up your room a bit." (ie. put a few toys away) they say "Oh yeah! Let's pull out the extra mattress out from under the bed, get all the toys out from there, find the legos and vacuum under there!" Oh. I guess that is a good idea, Sam.

Kevin, to a dramatically crabby Ruthie after she was untimely waked from a nap in the van on the way home from church . . . (spoken quite cheerfully), "Boy, Ruthie, you sure are whiney . . . did you get up on the wrong side of the carseat?"

I just heard Nat humming that ol' preschool favorite... "If You're Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands." Then he stopped and turned to me, "Well, I'm happy... but I'm not sure I know it."

Proof-reading Grace's BU application today. It is sweet to read her essays and glimpse the heart of emerging womanhood. Joining the chorus of mothers across time and space saying "Wow, the days may be long, but the years fly by."

If our long driveway gets any muddier, I think we may need to install a chair lift to get to the house and just park out on the road. Either that or install monster truck tires on the van.

Happy kids playing outside on this early Spring day has provided time for a much needed attempt to conquer Mt. Washmore. Though it occurs to me, as I look at the kids in all their muddy glory upon the return from their adventures, that this was perhaps a counter productive laundry strategy.

Story writing in the field. Reading on the deck. Tadpole and frog egg hunting coming up, as the sound of frogs a courtin' are ringing in the neighborhood. Brothers playing baseball and basketball and getting math done with greatest speed. Collecting maple sap with Mr. Friend. Homeschool in the Springtime.

Oh, dear. I've convinced a sweet editor that an idea I have for a new article is "pure gold." Now they want to see a first draft. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble actually getting my idea out of my head and down on paper. Perhaps I'm distracted by the words "Writing" and "Easy as Pie" in the working title.

Kevin surprised me by instantly appearing with a load of firewood when I just casually mentioned it would be nice to have a fire in the fireplace. When I thanked him, he smiled "Your wish is my command . . . when I feel like it." Ah, yes, an honest Prince Charming.

Jon did not understand why we were all insisting he come inside and change his clothes again. His first selection of a new outfit after his play clothes were drenched from top to bottom in the big mud puddle? Red pajama pants and a nice dressy red sweater vest (no shirt underneath) - both inside out. And last year's green flip flops.

You know you're talking to a country girl when you say . . .
   "Hold still! There's a tick crawling on your neck!"
   And she smiles and replies, "Oh, good! A sign of Spring!"

Psalm 1, "Blessed is the man... his delight is in the law of the Lord and on this law he meditates day and night." Just pondering - That word we translate as blessed . . . we don't actually have a word that means what the original language means . . . divine joy and perfect happiness ? Pierced with godlike joy? O brain cloud, fly away so that I may abide in the Word, in Jesus, this week leading up to Resurrection Sunday.

Jon was sticking his tongue out in various directions and making hilarious, cartoon-like faces as he tried out different positions. Kevin asked him if his tongue tasted good, and he nodded 'yes' and continued to move his tongue around with comedic charm. After watching him for a few moments, Kevin asked, “Well . . . what’s it taste like?”
   Jon stopped and thought for a moment before replying seriously, “Fresh toast!”

Today at breakfast I mentioned, "Well, the royal wedding is tomorrow."
Jonathan nearly fell off his stool with excitement as he thought I was talking about a wedding in which he will be the ring bearer (in a few more weeks). First, he was happy that "the wedding" is tomorrow, and secondly... discovering that his cousin (the bride) is a princess was quite surprising.

The older kids got up as planned at 4am this morning to watch the royal wedding. Dad surprised them (and me) by obtaining and setting out English tea, shortbread, English chocolates, English muffin, proper toast, (donuts, too!) AND by getting up to join them (while I slept in 'til 8). My own Prince Charming!

Me: "Hurry up and go outside or the sun will go down!"
   A smiling teenager: "Wow Mom, good job figuring out a way to keep the sun from setting!"

Me, calling from the bathroom: "Jon, come brush your teeth!"
   Jon, from his bedroom:"I did!"
   Me:"Your toothbrush isn't wet."
   Jon:"Oh!"
He dashes into the bathroom, picks up his toothbrush, gets it wet with running water, gives it a little shake, touches it to make sure it is wet and puts it back in the cup before dashing back to his bedroom! Um... nevermind.

Happy Birthday to our beautiful Esther Rose! A spectacular bike wipe-out this morning (which destroyed a pair of pants and required much cleansing and an impressive bandage) has most likely provided a scar to commemorate her 10th birthday for years to come. Happy Birthday sweet Essie!

Me: "How about we have a new law, Thou Shalt Not Drop Things on the Floor and Leave Them Where They Lie."
   Essie: "Wow, there's going to be a lot of crimes around here!"

Exciting News! Grace got an acceptance letter from BU for the PSEO program in the mail today! Somehow this makes me feel like singing Tangled's "When Will My Life Begin..." in her honor.

Thinking through pre-registration for BU.
Me: "Ok, for electives, think of what sounds most interesting and fun without worrying about heading for degree requirements." (I'm thinking photography, bowling, underwater basket weaving, etc).
Grace, thinking for a few moments: "Well, I don't know . . . sometime I'd really like to take genetics."

Oh my. 18 inches of standing water in the basement. Looks like flotsam and jetsam down there. SuperDad is on his way home. In the meantime, pump is off so no water in the house and we'll have to turn off all the house electricity to go down there. Water table flooding or pipe break?

It's a true flood from the rising water table in our neighborhood. Our 88-year-old neighbor, Mr. Friend, says it's never been this high before. Power still off. Learned about generators and powerful rental pumps. We got it pumped out and it is rising again from the floor up. Still much to figure out, lots of ruined junk, trying to save many bins of wet clothes that floated and tipped over. Hoping the furnace and water heater are not ruined. Pumping out one more time, then sleep.

Turns out there are a limited number of times you can turn off a main breaker before it needs to be replaced. Power and water from our electric well pump back on now. Plus we met a nice electrician.

Today: SuperDad to install new sump pump, restore hot water (if hot water heater is OK), throw away junk, dry clothes to save them, return rented generator and pump. Bonus: piano lessons, lib. books due, and 4H dog training. Realized last night Kevin was "this close" to being in Singapore this week. So thankful he is home!

Hot water's back! Now to wash the flooded clothing we dried outside on the old wash lines. Looks like a poor quality yard sale on the front lawn with everything out of the basement. The furnace had important parts submerged so that is not looking good. Many mercies: glorious cool sunny weather, friends praying and bringing dinner, several important things were above water, good excuse to throw away junk, etc!

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. --James 1:2-3

It's a little-known fact that the traditional gift for a 22nd anniversary is a sump pump. Thankful to be celebrating 22 years of marriage through floods and fair weather!

   ~to be continued!

Dandelion love

2011-05-10T19:26:00.002-05:00

Dandelion love,

brought to me in chubby fists

with glowing smiles today.

A barefoot prince brings

violet treasures, too.

Sweetness gathered,

new each springtime morn.

Jars of captured sunlight

line my windowsill.

A day of childhood marked with each bouquet.

~Sara~

A soul unthawed.

2011-05-07T19:13:00.001-05:00

So eager in these days for warmth and life,
we sit outside in hazy sun
with bare limbed trees still reaching to the sky
and call it Spring.

A baby, born to cold and snow,
delights in fists of early grass
while sitting at my feet.

And birds, so bold,
are calling echoes
here and there.

But all around, an emptiness remains
in fields and sky.

And it's quiet. Oh, so quiet.

A moment to relax my guard as winter slips away.
Thankful, I sit. Just breathing.

Waiting.

A soul unthawed.

~Sara~

The LORD is Risen, Indeed!

2011-04-24T07:57:00.006-05:00

I am not a natural morning person, but this Easter morning I was awake in the darkness quietly nursing the baby while half-dozing, half-praying in bed. When I first noticed the light changing I knew it was nearing dawn. I remembered it was Easter and that soon Kevin and the three oldest kids would be needing to get up for choirs and orchestra and the early service at church. I looked at the gray pre-dawn light making a small patch of light on the wall and thought about the women who were up before dawn, to walk in the cold to the tomb where Jesus lay as soon as they could call it day, dreary with grief–and found the stone rolled away. Then the joy that rose in their hearts as they and then the disciples first discovered that Jesus had risen from the dead and then encountered their glorious Risen Lord and remembered all that He had taught and promised.

Just before the early alarm sounded, the light patch on my wall exploded into a magnificent rose-orange color such that I knew there must be a beautiful sunrise this morning, a reminder to me of the Resurrection, an encouragement deep in my soul. As Kevin stirred, I pointed out the light patch of amazing color to him and he got up and opened the drapes.

Yes! A glorious dawn and encouragement to our souls . . . awake and hear the good news!

Gather Christians, this Easter morning, rejoice and be glad!

The Lord is Risen, Indeed!

I felt strangely drawn to open my computer this morning. I say strangely because I have a "rule" to never open my computer before church on a Sunday, and it seems strange to use my unexpected peaceful alone time in that way. Yet, I had a question about the holy spirit on my mind and so decided to look it up on the Desiring God website. I never got past the front page of DG however because I found the following post about the The Overflow of Easter, an encouragement for my soul about the resurrection and it's achievements, and I'm so glad I read it before getting the children up and going, to get ready for church this morning. My Easter worship will be richer for thinking through this. Then I decided to share the article here and so, here I am writing before the children even wake on a Sunday morning, even Easter. A first for sure!

And now I am about to begin my day–thinking of Brothers and Sisters throughout the world all gathering together to rejoice in the good news. And thankful for the amazing light on my wall this morning that woke me up with unexpected ease in order to remember and shout to my own soul and the world ~ Yes! The LORD is Risen! The LORD is Risen! The LORD is Risen!

The LORD is Risen, Indeed!

~Sara~

Irrepressible light

2011-04-22T13:31:00.004-05:00

When I was in the middle of my deeper affections a few weeks ago, I found myself reading through the Passion Week scriptures and really noticing the experience of the women who were closest to Jesus. Oh, what love! What darkness they experienced to the core of their being! And finally, what joy! They followed Him to the cross; they watched the horror unfold; they clung together; they watched their last hope fade; they watched Him suffer on the cross; they stayed until He died from crucifixion; they watched as His death was confirmed with a spear thrust to the side; they stayed to see Him taken down; they followed to see Him laid in the tomb; they left to prepare spices and ointment as darkness fell; they observed the Sabbath and left the tomb alone for agonizing hours as He lay alone, His body unprepared; they came again to anoint His body as soon as they could possibly call it dawn; they arrived to find an empty tomb; they were greatly distressed; they received the good news and explanation of the resurrection from angels; one stayed and heard the Lord Himself speak her name; they returned to the disciples to share the news of the angels and with the report of seeing Him alive... only to be received as women speaking idle talk.

But–their story was confirmed–He appeared again, and again, and again.

They loved, they feared, they followed, they watched, they were devastated, they were confused, they grieved, they cared, they waited, they went to care for his body–all dark, dark days. I try to imagine the darkness of their grief, but it is well beyond my experience. Then they were the first to hear the good news from angels, to find the empty tomb on the third day . . . just as He promised. Mary, lingering and thinking that her grief had been compounded by enemies stealing her Lord's body, is instead called by name by the resurrected Jesus. Her joy is well beyond what I can imagine.

Thinking through my impossible plan to try to feel my way through the weekend really experiencing the dark leading up to Easter, and then the joy–I find that I'm never able to get to that place of grief because the joy and light keep poking in. I'm too tired to concentrate on keeping them out and feel the darkness. I know He is alive! I can't forget the Good News because it is the strength and joy of my life. I don't feel separated from my Lord during Good Friday. I am, at times, overwhelmed with what He has done to atone for sin, once for all. But death could not keep Him in the grave. His sacrifice is perfect and He conquered death for Love and His Glory. At the same time He is here with me on my superficial, tired days, leading me and carrying me and taking me where I need to be step-by-step and giving me the gifts of feeling His presence and feeling deep affection for Him when it is best for me.

Let us remember His suffering. Let us believe in Him and receive His salvation. Let us be transformed into His bride. And if in our weakness, poor affections and pale imagination we can't grieve properly on this Good Friday for our Lord's dark day or for our sins, let us rejoice that we live on this side of Easter and that what He has accomplished is not dependent on what we do at all.

Yes, let us rejoice this Easter and every day, for the Lord is Risen, Indeed!

~Sara~

ps. I wrote this on Good Friday 2010, but it reflects so much of my feelings this year as well, I decided to repost. We are weak . . . Rejoice!

Pierced with joy

2011-04-20T00:27:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, our family read through Psalm 1 as we began to memorize those verses as a part of the Fighter Verses program at our church. Then we looked closely at the first few words, "Blessed is the man . . ." What exactly does that word Blessed mean anyway? Some of the kids had an idea of what it might mean–righteous, loved, happy, receiving a gift, getting a reward. We couldn't pin it down exactly, so we looked it up. Lydia found a note in the Reformation ESV Bible that explained that there is more than one Hebrew word that we translate as "blessed." The Hebrew here was a word used to denote something stronger than happiness, but English doesn't have a perfect word for that. I later found some information mentioned by a number of sources: in the Greek translation of Psalm 1, and in the New Testament original Greek, the word that we translate as blessed (makarios) had a flavor in the Greek culture of godlike joy attained by specially favored people–royalty, the exceedingly rich, or the gods themselves–enjoying all the riches of their position in a state of happy contentment, living above the normal cares of earthly life.

In a tired, brain-foggy sort of way, I've been thinking about this word Blessed in the midst of Holy Week, wanting to abide in Jesus especially as we look forward to Easter. Mostly, though, these thoughts were just on the fringes of my mind with lots of distracting things going on all around me. Suddenly, thinking about the explanation of the word Blessed having connotations of royalty and the powerful privileged enjoying their riches brought the beatitudes of Matthew 5:1-12 into my mind with a small catch of my breath.

Oh! Jesus was saying something so counter-cultural to the common meaning of those who are "blessed." The contrast must have been startling to those who were listening that first time on the hillside. He said, blessed are those who are poor in spirit, those who mourn, those who are meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, those who are merciful, those who are pure in heart, those who are peacemakers, those who are persecuted, and those who are reviled and falsely accused of evil on account of Jesus. Those who suffer now in these ways and put their hope in God are blessed beyond measure in the kingdom of heaven. They are comforted, made heirs of the earth, satisfied in righteousness, they shall see mercy, see God and be called the sons of God. Theirs is the kingdom...the KINGDOM... of heaven!

Therefore rejoice and be glad!

As I thought through these things, my definition of blessed meaning strong happiness shifted to thinking of it as piercing joy. At the same time I'm thinking of Jesus, pierced for our transgressions and enduring the cross for the joy set before Him. Perhaps to those described in the beatitudes, the promise of being blessed is a painful happiness, as though they are pierced with joy.

This week as I look forward to Easter Sunday and remember the cross and the resurrection, my hope is that God our loving Father would pierce me with His joy, capture my wandering thoughts, and turn my eyes to Jesus.

~Sara~

The Beatitudes
Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

~Matthew 5:1-12

Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
for the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
~Psalm 1~

O Snow!

2011-04-15T21:23:00.010-05:00

When snow in April inspires bad poetry~

O Snow, O Snow, must you stay so long?

I'm weary of your games.
Half the year seems quite enough . . .
Another storm? How lame.

Now it's time for April's showers,
and green to shine anew.
Better yet, let's jump to May
with all its flowers, too.

O Snow, O Snow, I'm sad to say . . .
Get out of here! We're through!
Your welcome, Snow, is all worn out.

I'm so, so over you.

~Sara~

Journal Snapshots ~ Mid-Winter 2011

2011-03-15T18:15:00.076-05:00

~Sara~

Watching Sam and Ben engaged in some intense sword fighting with light sabers accompanied by curious back and forth dialogue:

Nat, “What are you guys playing?”

One boy took the time to cry out a reply . . . “Binoculars!”

Oh. Well that clears that up.

Looking for Ruthie at naptime -- I found her crouched behind the bathroom door wearing my reading glasses. When I moved the door to see her and asked what she was doing, she looked up in the most natural way and replied . . . "Mom, is that you?"

"Mom! Mom! Ruthie is bleeding!!!" yells Jon as he skids into the kitchen.

Not hearing any crying in the distance, I ask, "What kind of bleeding?"

Jon looks at me seriously and replies, "Red."

Grace showed 6-year-old Sam a picture of Pastor John and asked him if he knew who it was.

"Yep," Sam replied, "That's our actor!"

The Academy of the Three Amigos is officially back in session. On the agenda today: My Father's Dragon, clock time, tying shoelaces, trees, a few workbooks and advanced light saber techniques with sound effects.

So it's true. Sleep does make a difference. What shall I do with my mind today, while it's here for a visit?

Sunshine and dripping icicles.

Frozen trees half-exhale in the warming air

~ a hint of springtime mixed with woodsmoke in the air.

Reminders in the bleak midwinter that Life will triumph in the end.

This morning, I opened my eyes to find Ruthie about eight inches from my face. I started to say something when she interrupted, "Shushhhh. Go back to sleep Mom."

It's hard to sleep and laugh at the same time, but I gave it a shot.

Martin Luther King Jr. was only 39 years old when he was killed. Somehow I didn't realize that. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."  — MLK Jr.

Sub-zero windchills are leading to an epidemic of excessive and potentially furniture-destroying, Tigger-like bouncing around here. All that sun and snow and too cold to play. Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce . . .

There is an old outhouse on our property, I can see it out there in the trees when I look out of my kitchen window . . . and after a night of 27 below and a day with a high of zero, I'm more happy than ever that it is no longer in use.

Morning sun on Winter's snow,  so bright it hurts the eyes

~ hinting of Glory so radiant we need new eyes to see.

Gripped by Psalm 46 this morning.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way (!) . . ."

"Be still and know that I am God . . ."

The whole Psalm, rich words to dwell upon.

Happy Birthday, dear Ruthie! The princess is taking a bit 'o a nap and will be back for more festivities later . . . 3 years old!

Sam just brought me a heart-shaped Valentine he made for me. It has a picture of the two of us running the 22-ton wood splitter together. Ah, romance is in his future!

Dedicated baby Daniel Roy this morning at church.

Got home safe and sound, before the storm hit.

Let it snow!

Ben's quick quip after laughing at his own misunderstanding of my excitement about having a snow day: "Oh! (laughing) I thought you said a NO day! You know . . .

'Mom, can I watch TV?' NO

'Mom, can I play computer?' NO

'Mom, will you play a board game?' NO

'Mom, can I have a cookie?' NO..."

Ruthie just appeared beside me, big tears and wailing. What's wrong dear? (shudder, sniffle) "Sam was really not playing with me and my nose got into Boaz's mouth!"

I was sitting unsuspecting on the couch when Ruthie jumping up and down suddenly pelted a ball directly at me and yelled, "Hey Mom! FETCH!"

In trying to defrost some frozen laundry room pipes, I have overloaded the outlet with a heater and a blowdryer and plunged the circuit into darkness. The breaker, however has not tripped, and I can't restore power. Electrical advice anyone? Or is the house about to blow up . . .

OK. Now a hot water pipe burst. Did you know that massive amounts of steam will set off a fire alarm? It will. We got the flood turned off, but now have no hot water anywhere. Twas a blessing the electricity previously went out, however, or I would have had a blow dryer on in the midst of the flood. Thankful nothing dangerous happened.

I fixed the pipe! My do-it-yourself show starts next week. And the pipes are thawed, thanks to this nice weather. Still can't figure out the electrical circuit thing, but at this point, I'm willing to run my laundry machine with a heavy duty power cord to the hall. But actually, I've lost enthusiasm for doing the laundry today. Strange.

In honor of the three distinct illnesses which have invaded our home, we are taking a holiday from school.

Enjoyed a breakfast birthday party for our newest sweet teenager, Lydia, who is turning 13 today! What a blessing to have her as a daughter... much joy for this mother to watch her children unfold and blossom like flowers in the springtime, to see more and more the uniqueness and beauty in each one.

Just sorted Mt. Washmore with the help of the three amigos. Turns out doing the laundry is a lot more fun when wrestling, giggling, and tug-o-war is involved. Who knew?

A bit annoyed that my middle-aged eyes required me to get my reading glasses before I could help Jonathan, I sat back down with a sigh. Jon lifted up my chin and looked at me seriously. Thinking he'd find it funny to see me in glasses (which I don't usually wear), I was prepared for anything but what he said, "Hm, you look real pretty."

This is the day that the Lord has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

~Sara~

...though the earth gives way.

2011-02-19T02:12:00.004-06:00

Thursday, we were headed to the memorial service of a man from our church.

Cancer. He was eight years older than Kevin. He leaves a wife and two just-grown children. He was the first person we met when we moved to Minnesota 14 years ago. We had asked the church if there was anyone who would help us unload our moving truck, and somehow Bob ended up at our door on a cold, snowy, winter's day. Cheerful and welcoming, with plenty of Minnesota jokes to get us acquainted with northern humor right off the bat. Through the years he was a regular person in the background of my life. Not one of our best friends, but someone I took for granted as being around here somewhere, someone I would never hesitate to enjoy a conversation with if we happened to be in the same place at the same time. Always with a joke and smile for the kids, a surprise from his pocket, the real deal, and unique in every way.

Driving down the highway to the downtown Minneapolis church, I wondered at my lack of sadness on the road. That didn't last long. As soon as I entered the lobby, I noticed the rotating slide show on the monitors. We came in midway through the lifetime of pictures. I looked up at Bob standing with his family, Bob cracking a joke with a friend, Bob in a Civil War uniform at Ft. Snelling, Bob in London with his wife on the big trip, Bob looking tired, Bob with oxygen on his face, Bob sicker than I had ever seen him. Tears started leaking out of my eyes as I slumped into the pew in the overflow area, where I planned to sit with the baby. I stopped wiping my face after a few minutes and just let the tears drip off my chin. And that was before his Civil War reenactment battery marched in to the wail of bagpipes and the service began with its carefully chosen hymns, memories of life-long-friends, truth-provoking poetry, friend-filled choir, well suited sermon and scripture that resonated with my heart. Bob has gone from what he called pre-life (nevermind that afterlife talk...this is just the pre-life!) and has joined Jesus in LIFE. His civil war with sin and this body of death is over. Victorious. Redeemed. It was a beautiful service remembering Bob and honoring Jesus Christ. Absurdly, I was reminded of Bilbo Baggins saying, "but today of all days it is brought home to me that it is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life."

Sitting in the back, nursing my chubby baby–watching pictures of Bob from infant, to child, to teen, to young man, to husband, to father, to mid-life, to cancer–I felt I was somehow holding earthly life from beginning to end with all its joys and sorrows, right in my arms, as the tears continued to leak quietly from my eyes.

I remembered the verses that had so gripped me a few weeks ago, from Psalm 46, verses 1-3.

God is our refuge and strength,
   a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
   though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
   though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

I had walked around with the words rolling in my mind. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way. Therefore we will not fear... Though the earth gives way? What does that mean? How can we not fear if the earth gives way beneath us? It really stuck with me. Do I have that faith? I want to have that faith. Oh, Lord, give me that faith! I started thinking of all the things that happen in life that feel like that. Like the earth giving way beneath our feet. What am I trusting in? That thought has been with me for the past two weeks.

Sitting at the back of the church, behind the glass of the sanctuary, holding the baby and pondering the fleeting days of this life, I began thinking of how it is true, that through our hope in Christ, we can face death and not fear. I had this image in my mind of the earth falling away from us in this manner: When loved ones, and others who form the tapestry of life around us, die and leave us–it is as if the earth gives way–one person at a time. If I, or this child in my arms, lives for 110 years, the earth will give way, as one by one people disappear around me, around him. In my mind, all the people I have ever known were standing soberly, facing me, then turning to dust and blowing away, quietly, one at a time.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way...

~Sara~

God is our refuge and strength,
   a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
   though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam,
   though the mountains tremble at its swelling....

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
   the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
   God will help her when morning dawns....

“Be still, and know that I am God.
   I will be exalted among the nations,
   I will be exalted in the earth!”
The Lord of hosts is with us;
   the God of Jacob is our fortress.

   ~Psalm 46:1-3 and 4-5 and 10-11

Robert W. Lockman, Jr.

November 17, 1954-January 24, 2011

Honoring Jesus Christ and Remembering Bob Lockman:

A Memorial Service of Worship, February 17, 2011

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

~1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

Prelude: Morning Has Broken

Welcome and Prayer

Bagpipe Processional: The Minstrel Boy

Trooping of the Colors:

Company A, First Minnesota Volunteers Infantry.

Battery I, First U.S. Artillery.

Greetings

Congregational Hymns:

O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus

What Wondrous Love is This?

O Let Your Soul Now Be Filled With Gladness

Memories

Choral Praise: My Shepherd Will Supply My Need

Poem: Jesus

Congregational Song: Be Thou My Vision

Romans 7:13-8:1

Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Message: Bob Lockman's Civil War

Choral Anthem: The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Congregational Hymn: Victory in Jesus

Bagpipe Recessional: Retreat

Postlude

Loving February? Part 2

2011-02-11T17:31:00.003-06:00

The challenge (and humor) of loving February seems to have struck a chord with a lot of my friends. A surprising number have mentioned additional things to add to the Merits of February list. Quite a few have told me they are going to try to love February along with me! Fun!

So here are a few more great things about this month. Perhaps they will entice a few more of you to join the February Fan Club!

•Garden and Seed Catalogs arrive.

•Enjoying your best garden EVER… in your imagination.

•Runners can stop worrying about windchill and train outdoors. Usually.

•Blooming potted flowers reappear in the stores bringing the first true smells of Spring!

•Gorgeous mornings of hoarfrost. A late winter treat.

•We in the north can be amused by swimsuits being suddenly and prominently displayed in stores.

•Lots of birds come to the feeders because they can’t find food anywhere else.

•Cheap chocolate after Valentine’s day.

•Star gazing without mosquitoes, plus the snow is comfy for lying on your back and staring at the sky.

•If you file your taxes early, your refund (if you’re going to get one) will arrive this month.
•Spectacular icicles.
•Warm enough to wash the car a few times this month.

•Snow shoveling muscles are finally in shape, just in time for the heaviest snow of the season.

•Girl Scout Cookies.

•Warms up enough for the kids to play outdoors for extended amounts of time after being cooped up for weeks . . . months . . . on end.

AND~

Best of all - it’s fun to smile and respond unexpectedly with “You know, I actually sort of love February!” when folks make small talk with the standard late-winter conversation openers. Several people were laughing along with me during a funny conversation with the cashier at the grocery store yesterday after she commented, "Well, do you think this winter is ever going to end?"

So, what else do YOU (try to) love about February?

ps. Thanks again, Rachel!

Loving February?

2011-02-09T23:24:00.001-06:00

Sometimes we need friends to remind us of the beauty that is all around us.

Well, at least I do. Despite my best efforts to notice all the gifts of each season this year, I found myself pretty stalled on finding any more nice things to say about winter as I turned the calendar to February a few days ago. Sigh. Another month of Winter with a capital W. We like to joke on Groundhog's Day, that in Minnesota there are always six more weeks of winter...six more weeks than anyone else, that is. Shivering by the cold glass, and looking at the white sky, white ground, white world out my window–I found myself thinking that the most positive thing to say about this time of year is that it makes us long for Spring. I even wrote about it. A dear friend added an encouraging comment on that post, and near the end just happened to ask, "Well, don't you love February? I really do."

That made me think.

Do I love February? Love February. February? I decided to try. I shared with some friends that I decided to try, with some delightful results. Soon I realized that once again I had been so caught up in noticing the things I was expecting to see, that I had missed the actual gifts all around me, waiting to be admired and enjoyed.

For the encouragement (and perhaps amusement) of those who were not in on that conversation, I'm going to share the List of the Merits of February that my dear friend easily listed off to help my attempts at February appreciation. It has led to me giggling randomly throughout the day. And smiling a (frozen) smile as I went out into the frigid sunshine this early morning. I even got a chance to convince a stranger that February is a wonderful time of year by sharing the List of Merits with her.

Here's how that conversation went:

There we were, standing, looking out at the parking lot through the glass. Each of us waiting to be picked up by someone who loves us enough to go out into the negative 15 degree windchill so we can enter a car that has warmed up to at least zero by the time they drive over to the door. Her comment, echoed by thousands, even millions of people today, "Boy, I am so ready for Spring."

Smiling, I just couldn't help myself. "You know, I have a friend who loves February."

She turned to me,"Really? What does she like about it?"

"Well, she has a big list of things. And she's convinced me, too. I decided to like February. It's a good list."

She was all ears, as I'm sure you are, too.

Here we go...and this was just off the top of my friend's head.

1) Valentine's Day!! ♥ ♥

2) While it's winter, it's WAY lighter earlier & later. This gets dramatically better all month & is really wonderful!

3) Weirdly more powerful sun. Roads become generally blacktop, not white or icy.

4) There is time to do winter things you meant to do but didn't–get a little one on skates, family ski/tube day, etc.

5) Spring is so clearly coming! It is like the glorious START of coasting down a monster hill you just miserably biked up.

6) The spring idea is there to enjoy, yet there is absolutely no pressure to actually do anything spring related. Relax & milk the"sit by fire in a blanket & read" season for all it is worth...

6) On top of all this: One of my boys was born, plus, Sara & her sister, & some great presidents!

Later, she and others thought of more things to love (or consider loving) about February. I even thought of a few things.

Variety! Snowstorms and Sunshine. Blizzards and More Sunshine. Puddles appear on sunny days, even if it's still quite cold. Wooden decks dry out in the sun. The best month for skiing. Opportunities for Contentment and Patience. The best snow of the year for snowballs, snowmen and forts. The emptiest activity calendar page of the year, and snow days snuggled at home. And yes, the smell of Spring is on the breeze.

I'm really not joking that all this is a gift to me. Learning to love the beauty of a season where I had only seen bleak days before, will be a blessing year after year.

I'm thankful for friends who help me see.

Winter's longing

2011-01-31T23:41:00.003-06:00

Looking out the window this morning, I was thinking about how easy it is to love the first snowfall of the season when the beautiful flakes come down by the millions and cover all the ugliness of dreary Fall. How happy, too, to think of our own ugliness being covered by God’s grace. But, today I was thinking that amazingly, God our Father has done more for us in Christ . . . how can it be? It’s not just the white covering of winter freezing us solid along with covering our sins. It’s new life, abundant life, all things made new. The promise of Springtime and Summer and warmth and love along with our new robes. And we are not lost in the process, but found and loved and . . . I can barely whisper it . . . glorified, so we can bear His Glory. Such good news. I’m thankful for seasons that teach me through the longing for Spring when gray skies come day after day–for seasons that teach my heart to hope for more. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

Winter's longing

Snow blows through the black framed trees.

Wrinkled white blankets
   cover soil at rest and
   flutter ragged at the seams.

Mud and old discarded things
   are hidden from our sight.
   Forgotten piles and projects fast asleep.

Covered but not made new.
   A cold and lifeless beauty.

The joy of sparkling powder
   has faded into gray;
   a chill comes through the glass.
Shoulders hunched in sweaters,
   we shiver at the bleakness
   and hope for Spring.

   ~Sara~

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow . . .” Isaiah 1:18

(So Jesus again said to them, . . . )
. . . “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” John 10:10

Midwinter's gift.

2011-01-12T20:14:00.004-06:00

This is a hard time of year in the North.

The lights and sparkle of Christmas have faded away, gifts have found a spot to stay in drawers and closets and cabinets, while the ornaments have been packed in boxes and bins. In our case, the Christmas tree is now decorating the yard–preserved green and frozen in the arctic air. And still, we face three more months of winter. The days are short and it's dark and cold when the first child wakes up in the morning.

This morning, as we gathered one by one in the kitchen, the day began as usual. Parents and older kids wrapped in bathrobes and blankets in the chilly air, trying to convince the younger children that socks and sweatshirts seem like a good idea while waiting for the fireplace to warm the house. Children eating cereal. Conversation and coffee and hoping that soon we'll feel more wide awake. Then something unusual happened. The door was opened to let the dog out, and the gust that invaded the kitchen was cold as expected, but it smelled . . . like Spring. Everyone sat up straight and sniffed the breeze. What a wonderful, amazing smell! It was like a midwinter's gift.

Going outside to stand on the icy, snow-covered deck, I stood with my face towards the sun–so sparkling bright on the snow I had to close my eyes. I kept standing there long enough that Grace opened her upstairs window to ask what I was doing.

What was I doing?

Thanking the Lord for this sunshine and the hint-of-springtime smell, and thinking. Thinking that everything in creation is here for a purpose, thinking of today's lesson for my soul. Trying to capture the gift.

Midwinter's Gift

Sunshine and dripping icicles.

Frozen trees half-exhale in the warming air

~ a hint of springtime mixed

with woodsmoke on their breath.

Reminders in the bleak midwinter

that Life will triumph in the end.

~Sara~

Journal Snapshots ~ 2010

2011-01-08T16:12:00.009-06:00

***

How to introduce this?

Perhaps a Happy New Year's theme . . . 2010: The Year in Review! Or maybe a reflection on how often my life feels like a sit-com . . . “Never a Dull Moment: The Series” Or maybe it could be a pitch for a new animated movie . . . “The Princess, the Three Amigos, Super Fix-it Woman, and Other Superheros!” OR Journal Snapshots of our Life . . .

I think I'll stick with the Journal Snapshots idea. 2010 is the year I started a blog on the spur of the moment. The year the Lord began to combine my love for the Word and my love of words. I discovered a joy in trying to capture moments with words. Sometimes it poured out in prose. Sometimes it was easier to capture in fewer words . . . the surprise of poetry. And sometimes in looking for moments to capture, I found myself laughing out loud in delight or crying in worship. It's been a gift to me from the Lord, truly His treasure right here in my junk drawer. This entry is a collection of lighthearted Journal Snapshots of our Life. . . the small things of life that I don't want to forget, captured in words.

Journal Snapshots ~ 2010

Winter

Just washed chocolate cake and ice cream off of Jon's cast and it looks as good as new. The casting material is amazing. They said he could take it in the bath, with care to dry it afterwards - but that seems too good to be true. It's a good era to have a broken arm in America.

Morning sun on Winter's snow, so bright it hurts the eyes

~ hinting of Glory so radiant we need new eyes to see.

Ruthie is turning 2 today! She's already perfected the holding up of two fingers to announce her advanced age. Family party tomorrow, how about another pink heart shaped cake?

Zac has his first tooth. It seems strange for us all to be clapping and cheering over such a normal everyday miracle, when there is so much suffering in Haiti. Many things on my heart to pray about today from joyful to tragic.

Trying to muster up the courage to trek over to our unheated storage shed to search for ice skates that we haven't used since we moved here six years ago. Ok, here I go. Through the snow. Yukon ho!

The stars are really beautiful tonight; So clear and sparkling in this arctic air.

Why is it that even coffee tastes better on your Birthday?

The Valentine's Day answers by the numbers:
•Met at church when I was 15 (I was an annoying kid in his handbell choir. He was a mature 21. There was no thought of romance. At all.)
•At 17.5, great friends, realized we both wanted to marry "someone like you" ~ so started dating.
•Engaged on my 19th birthday.
•Married at age 20 (he was 26).
•21st anniversary coming up in May 2010.
Thankful!

Did something I've never done before. Drove off with my gas cap on the running board on the van . . . six miles of slushy snow later I discovered the truth . . . alas, no more gas cap. We've been back to look. Sad.

Nat: "When's Mothers' Day?"
   Me: "May."
   Nat: "That's too far! They should have it every month!" (big hug)
   "Good night, mom!" (kiss, run upstairs)
   Me: (happy)

Grace made two pans of homemade cinnamon rolls last night, and baked them for breakfast this morning. How great is that? So yummy! Coffee anyone?

I just fixed all the lose baseboard trim in our bedroom. I'm pretty sure I'm ready for my own DIY show.

Obviously a genius at 8 months old . . . Zachary just started to clap today every time he hears any music or singing! Then we'd clap and say Yay! for him ~ then he'd clap again.

Getting some blogging in while a sick baby is sleeping in my lap after crying for over an hour (!). Zac seems to have an RSV type cold that was getting better, but now is worse. The snuggling is nice, but it's put a damper on his blossoming clapping career.

Spring

Rain, lightning, thunder and hail. 45 degrees. Could it be we are missing the March blizzard at this very moment?

First day of mud season here at our house. The ground didn't freeze last night for the first time this year. The smell of Spring gives hope that hovers above the ugly, soggy ground.

Baby Zac is crawling around picking up miniscule pieces of treasure off the floor while discovering every nook and cranny of the house. He is quite proud of himself, and sits down and claps every once in a while before spotting something new and exciting to reach for again. Baby Patrol shifts, starting now.

So happy it's truly warm outside in the sunshine this morning! Opening all the windows today before the rain moves in...

Quote of the day: Nearly 7-year-old Ben, when asked if he knew what was smeared all over the bathroom mirror. "It was a BIG mess...so I used a toothbrush to clean it up!" Any idea which toothbrush? Ah, no.

Fire in the fireplace and coffee in my favorite mug on this cold, drizzly day.

Today is Lydia's 12th birthday! The two of us were up early together and have been enjoying the rain and some quiet rainy-day-music (beautifully arranged hymns on acoustic guitar). I love getting to know my children as they unfold and grow like plants in the Spring.

Our neighbor Mr. Friend has tapped four of our maple trees for sap to make syrup. The sap is running this morning . . . drip, drip, drip . . . Yum!

Our cat is having kittens. Right now.

Floor•drobe. Noun. A common (not necessarily recommended) storage system for children's clothing, conveniently located on the floor of the bedroom.

10-year-old basketball fan, Nat: "If KU loses in the first round, then it would just be March Sadness."

Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU- Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU- Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU!

Minnesota kids + 63 and Sunny on St. Patrick's Day = happiness all around! Especially on Spring Break!

Mud season and puddles are beautiful when seen through the eyes of a child. Bring on the rubber boots!

Loving the sound of the wind in the leaves . . . it sounds like summer through my open windows. Maybe this year I'll learn which bird calls go with which birds.

The Lord Jesus is alive, just as He promised! Happy Easter!

Glorious warm sun chasing the puddles away, commanding every green thing to awake!

What a gorgeous day. Just took a walk in my regular shoes, not boots. We seem to have had the shortest mud season on record. Is it possible? Are we going to move on into true Spring now, or backtrack into winter?

Me: "Jon, you have WAY to much energy for a rainy day!"
3-year-old Jon: "Yep. I need to go outside and explode..."

Today is Benjamin's 7th birthday. What a joyful blessing he is to all of us!

Kevin's comment about Ruth and Jon this morning after we watched them running around the house in all their busy-ness while the rest of us were still waking up . . . "Those two have about 500 percent more initiative and energy than they require for their age and stage of life . . ."

Jon, age 3: "My bottom feels like a snitch!"
   Sam, age 5, shocked: "Jon! Don't say that! It's a BAD WORD!"
   The rest of us...."Huh?" and lots of laughter.
   Lydia's comment...."Oh, so THATS the 's-word'"

Slapstick comedy . . . homestyle. All four of my bigger boys just managed to bonk heads together at the same time and fall on the floor after chasing each other around the house. Finding no one to blame, they all dissolved into hilarious giggles.

This really is the perfect cozy rain for a peaceful day curled up reading and drinking hot, soothing drinks from favorite mugs. Unfortunately, that is not on the agenda today at our house.

If Legos have a saturation point, we've reached it.

We've got frog eggs about to hatch tadpoles in an aquarium on the counter. Spring is coming along . . . this year we've got wood frogs again. Last year we had teeny-tiny western chorus frogs.

Rubber boots are all the fashion this morning. Really, when are they not in fashion.

Our sweet, wildly-creative, artistic, full-of-life, sunny and loving Essie is 9 years old today! Celebrating the blessing of her life today and thanking God for putting her in our family! Happy Birthday Esther Rose!

Dandelion and violet bouquets crowding my kitchen windowsill ~ heralds rejoicing in the arrival of Spring.

Planning out what annuals to put in around the house this Summer. Anyone know of any flowers particularly enticing or repugnant to chickens? I know for a fact they find begonias delicious so we won't be getting any of those this year . . .

OK, so I guess we'll do July this week. Our low temp last night was five degrees above our normal high temp for end of May! Emergency search for Summer clothing today . . .

Love is . . . a husband and son who put in the window A/C units on the first hot day just for me.

Summer

If you've ever wondered how many places your baby touches on the high chair, himself, and surrounding area while eating - give him two blackberries and let him play for 20 minutes. Oh my.

I think it's possible that someone who owned a lot of stock in a laundry detergent company invented chocolate syrup.

Oh yes, days and weeks and months like this are worth five months of snow. Church picnic tonight, anyone?

I'm thinking of sewing velcro to Jon's pants and a comfy chair to get him to sit still for a few minutes.

Seven kids to the dentist for check-ups in one morning. Try not to envy our adventuresome life!

Pancakes for lunch, anyone? Essie's making them for us. Our neighbor Mr. Friend's maple syrup is on the menu, too. Yum! Let's see if Lydia will make some cheesy scrambled eggs. I love having cheerful, capable kids. What a blessing!

Read Little Red Riding Hood in a sunny fortress to three little amigos, a princess and a cat this afternoon. We all went down the slide afterwards. You can't say that every day.

Exciting evening at our house. 10-year-old Nat has earned the right to watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies by reading all of the books. So tonight - Nat, Mom, Dad and older sisters already in the LOTR club get to watch together! Watching the first one tonight and the rest over the next few days. Fun!

Just noticed that the doors on my front loading washer and dryer look just like a Hobbit Hole front door (minus the shiny knocker ). Wondering how that escaped my attention for the past four years.

Watching three little amigos getting clean in a tub. The tub will need a bath when they are done.

Fun, annual strawberry picking adventure yesterday. Quote of the day, upon seeing the strawberry field... "Ooooh, we're picking smoothies!" (Jon, of course).

After a decade of hopes and dreams, Grace has a beautiful new Labrador puppy. Welcome to our world, Boaz!

EVENT: Cricket found in the dining room.
   HILARIOUS DISCUSSION among 4 boys: in which
   they consider the best method of trapping
   and transporting said cricket (quite imaginative ideas).
   BEST QUOTE from Sam holding cricket in a jar:
   "Now he's my new best friend and I'm going to
   name him Jumper. Because he's a jumper."

Zachary is one year old today - what a blessing he has been to all of us. Easy going, loving, playful and affectionate. Today he is entertaining us by crawling around, smiling up at us, and saying "Ruff! Ruff" like the new puppy!

Delightful walk on a misty, cool, Summer day. Took along two young squires on bikes, a trusty dog, and unexpectedly, one of our cats tagged along. Everything is so green and lush it seems as if you can hear it all growing when you stand still.

And did I mention Ben broke his toe last night? We took one look and headed to the ER at 9:15pm. 2nd toe was bent sideways where there is not a joint. Ewwww. Back in place, taped and a cool boot today. He's feeling pretty good.

Blue eyes look even brighter when peering out of a dirt-dusted face. I've got five happy examples of that in my kitchen at this very moment. It's been a good day to make cities, streets and rivers under the big maple tree. Apparently.

Thankful that our electricity was only out for a few hours! It's amazing how stir crazy we got with warm-and-humid inside and hot-and-mosquitoey outside (while drizzling). Not wanting to open the fridge and let the cold out, we don't have running water without electricity, and so dark for afternoon. I heard a lot of whining around here, but maybe that was just me . . .

Did I mention that nearly 4-year-old Jon learned to ride a bike this week? Now if only he could learn to use the brakes we'll be all set. Thankful we have no pavement around here - he's a wild sight out there.

Sam: "Mom, you better drink your coffee--it's good for the baby."

10 year old Nat . . . "I'm so glad God created smiling!"

Happy Sweet 16th Birthday to our dear Grace!

What do Harrison Ford and Zachary Shull have in common? A handsome, rugged scar just in that crease above the chin. In Zac's case, it has a fresh appearance.

Zac's chin is healing really well. The purple superglue is holding strong despite all the drool and meal messes, much to my surprise. I told the doctor I'd take a pack of that skin glue to go, but he thought I was joking. I wasn't.

‎12th year of homeschooling - Six kids between 11th and Kindergarten actually "in" school - it's been a great day. Currently middle school kids are independently doing crater experiments in pans of flour and cocoa on the deck. "Independently" - what a great word. And the little kids get to watch!

Fall

One perfectly beautiful Autumn day. One patient farmer working all day long. One tractor. One huge amazing soybean harvesting attachment. One large truck standing ready to collect a flood of beans. Four enthralled children sitting and watching the excitement. Even the cats are interested.

And a Happy 11th Birthday to the one-of-a-kind, super, fantastic son and brother . . . Nathanael "Nat" Shull!

After summer sandal season, the first cool church morning of the season in which we discover that half of the children have grown out of their nice shoes.

Essie decided to watch the birds at our feeder so closely that she will know each one and can name them as friends. She's outside now sitting quietly with her science notebook and watching. Yesterday there was one visitor and she wasn't sure what kind of bird, so she named him Mr. E (pronounced "mystery"). She's hoping they learn to like her, too.

The reintroduction of socks into our Fall wardrobe adds a whole 'nuther dimension into the dynamics of our household. Good-bye bare feet! Farewell sandals! May we meet again!

It sure is easy to please a four-year-old on his birthday! Happy Birthday Dear Jonathan! May we all be as happy and content and happy-go-lucky as you are every day.

2-year-old-Ruthie excitedly sharing something she drew this morning, "Look Daddy! Look!"
Kevin, looking carefully "Oh, what a nice picture...what is it?
Ruthie, shrugging . . . "Actually, I don't know!"

Who would have thought Tipper would be a State Champ two years in a row? We need to give that dog more respect.

Golden day. Neighbor Farmer tilling to prepare for next spring. Young children and big sister at play in the leaves. Soup on the stove. Dad and rotating kids at work in the woods. First day of Shull Lumberjack season 2010/11. We're thankful for several oaks and elms which lived out their lives and have now volunteered for firewood conveniently near to our dirt road. Me? I'm alone in the house!

While trying to prevent toddler Zac from grabbing and spilling coffee, managed to splash myself and computer. I yelled for emergency help with clean-up just as the phone rang . . .
Nat's comment, "That's probably Dad calling about the coffee on the computer..."
(Don't worry dear, the computer's fine!)

A skunk seems to have met his demise in our neighborhood about 18 hours ago. Either that or he has an elaborate plan for marking his territory quite near to my territory. Maybe I'll fight back by spreading pumpkin pie and vanilla and hazelnut coffee and Fall spice smell all around the yard. That oughta scare 'em away.

I don't know the names of enough colors to do justice to the beauty of rain drenched leaves in Autumn when the sun comes out and everything is a brilliant glow with a spot of fire in every drop on every leaf. But I do know I love this season.

I am seriously dependent on having a working washing machine. Let's all hope Kevin can figure out what's wrong with my not-very-old large front loader without an expensive repair. The laundry mountain seems to be growing by the hour. Thankful that the last load completed was tons of underwear and socks!

Happy Birthday to Sam! The day really couldn't get much better for our 6-year-old lumberjack . . . working with Dad on splitting and stacking firewood AND a family party on the same day! We love you, Sam!

Situation: Kevin giving my 9^th month baby belly an affectionate pat.

   My comment: "Try not to be jealous of my rock hard abs."
   His response: "Yeah, I love your one pack."
   If laughter could bring on labor, I'd be all set.

Although it's tempting to stay home until the weather improves, I sure would miss seeing everyone until April! For now . . . mochas, fires in the fireplace and finding the winter coats. Thankful for a warm, snug home.

Suddenly, there is a countdown ticker on the dashboard of my MacBook that says "BABY DUDE!!!! 10 days, 14 hours, 20 minutes, 10...9...8, etc. seconds." Compliments of Grace. It's fun to have the kids up to the teenagers excited about meeting our new little Baby Dude.

Feeling very thankful for my husband's life today! Happy Birthday, Kevin! :)

My newly-fixed-with-replacement-parts washing machine just finished a load! My husband is my hero! Whew! When we loaded it into the dryer and started it, his first comment was, "Has it always sounded like that?" Um, yes? I hope...

We give thanks to the Lord for Daniel Roy born at 3:52 a.m. this morning. 8 lbs. 12 oz. 21.25 inches. Both Mom and babe are doing well. -Kevin

It has often been observed that "Shull babies" look alike. Apparently this has confused at least one of our kids . . . after looking closely and studying Daniel's face, Jonathan looked up at me and asked . . . "Is that me?"

Winter: Yes, where we live –we start and finish with Winter

My boys are outside to bring wood into the house wearing wind breakers. I think it's time to stop denying that winter is coming and get out the warm coats. 6-8 inches by tomorrow night? Somehow I dread winter, then get excited to watch it arrive!

When the boys came back from playing in the snow -- flinging boots, jackets, mittens and socks in their eagerness to stand by the fire, I asked if they'd had a good time. "Oh, YES!" said Ben with a happy smile, "We had big adventures!"

Ruthie comes in from outside, wailing dramatically . . . sizing up the situation, I say, "Oh, Ruthie . . . did your mittens fall off and you fell in the snow? That must feel horrible." Drama girl, collapsing into my arms . . . "I am HORRIBLE! OHhhhhhh (wailing continues)," A few minutes in front of the fireplace having her hands rubbed, and she was happily on her way . . .

Craft explosion in my dining room . . . baking in the kitchen . . . cleaning and menu and decorating plans. I love the holiday season and the creative output of my kids. <|:o) (that's supposed to be a smiley with an Elf hat).

And more snow, and more snow, and MORE SNOW! Thinking of making Christmas cookies for the first time this year . . . it's worth the big mess, isn't it? Then it will look like it snowed in my kitchen as well.

Lydia was reading the ingredients to the special holiday sausage the kids were eating. “Beef, chicken, pork…”
“There are FORKS in there????”
Jon interrupted.

I've been trying to think of something witty to write about how much I need to do in the next three days, but the only thing that comes to mind is that it's a good thing Christmas is really about Jesus, Immanuel, God with us, Savior . . . because I'm not going to get to "everything" this year.

Made the amateur mistake of forgetting an extra change of baby clothes while out on errands today. My solution, as described by Grace, "And she wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a car seat."

And Starting with Winter, again…Welcome 2011!

•♥*¨*•♫♪..and A Happy New Year! ♪♫•*¨*•.♥

"Mom! Mom! Ruthie is bleeding!!!" yells Jon as he skids into the kitchen.
Not hearing any crying in the distance, I ask, "What kind of bleeding?"
Jon looks at me seriously and replies, "Red."

Grace showed Sam a picture of Pastor John and asked him if he knew who that was. “Yeah,” said Sam, “That’s our actor.”

Regarding Ruthie's personality-plus and determination packed into her little, nearly 3-year-old body, I commented that perhaps she'd one day be like the girl in the movie Flipped, described complimentarily as luminescent.
Kevin's quip ~ "She's not just luminescent, she's nearly fluorescent."

To be continued . . .

~Sara~

(Thanks to David O'Neal for the "girl with dandelions" photo)

An Anniversary Day

2010-10-16T19:57:00.015-05:00

I highly recommend falling in love in Autumn . . . It's impossible to go through this season year after year without the memories and the feelings themselves welling up.

Today was one of those anniversary days.

Skipping leaves and half dressed trees
   seem pleased about the warmish days.

The sun grows soft and big while sailing deeper to the south.
   Evening's long shadows escape to chase our feet at noon.

That same sun spins out golden strands of memory
   that bind me to a day just like today.

Warm sun, warm hands, warm cookies
   dripping ice cream on a cozy hill.
   Kaleidoscopes of dazzled light shift across our jeans
   and draw our eyes to red leaves up above.

The leaves that in their lazy way
   drift down and down to make mosaics
   on the bright green all around.

The golden strands that day wove hazy screens
   to push out time and place and people all around.
   A golden day that witnessed bonded hearts
   those many years ago.

Those golden strands this day wrap warm memories
   around and leave me feeling seventeen and loved
   while standing in the grass.

Eyes closed with face set toward the reddish glow
   . . . for moments I could be both here and there.

His ringing laughter calls to me across the years,
   and also strong and real around the bend.

Smiling, warm, beloved still
   . . . I turn around and walk into today.

   ~Sara~

"O, magnify the Lord with me,
and let us exalt His name together!"
   ~Psalm 34:3

Golden Autumn Days

2010-10-07T19:51:00.003-05:00

I just had to sit outside today and listen to the dancing leaves still clinging to the trees, and watch the leaves fall gently down, and feel the golden sunlight filtered through the leaves–before there are no leaves and the color changes to drab, and then to stark, and the wind loses its friendly sound and instead becomes a howl and wail to echo our somber moods of Winter in the north.

Obligingly, the farmer came today to harvest his crop of soybeans now bursting and dry on the vine. Perfect for harvest, this week of sun and pleasant weather will stretch warm into next week if we are lucky. Very warm today, even with the strong breeze. And harvest watching, which only happens once a year, is worth more to me than one day of phonics, handwriting and numbers––at least for the younger crowd. The quiet house still holds four older scholars today–I would have let them play outside, but they didn't ask. Diligently pursing math, literature, science, history, languages and the arts . . . I hope the golden, gently-shifting light skipping through the windows is penetrating into their minds along with the subjects of their study. I'll urge them outside, too, this afternoon.

Creation is on my mind today–and beauty–and the Creator. The miracles in the changing season. The changes in the leaves and grass and all growing things as the sun travels too close to the horizon in the south to sustain the vibrant green, and so the gold and red and rust and even purple is now revealed. The marigolds are smiling at the whole world joining them in golden celebration, although the more tender members of my flower garden had to say good-bye with the heavy frost a few mornings ago.

So, drawn outside by the extraordinary Autumn light and thoughts of Light, I sit here in the dappled radiance on the deck.

The sounds invade my sleepy mind.

Along with nearby tractor rumble and the sound of children's laughter, the hearty birds that keep us company thorough the snowy months are singing today to let me know they'd appreciate a seed or two, even though some Summer friends have flown away.

And this year, I have fallen in love with the wind. The movement and the power and the sound itself makes my soul rise and sing praises to the Lord, my Maker. Somehow it carries a message of comfort and peace––reminding me that I am small and yet loved by One infinitely more powerful than any force of nature. I've leaned into the wind this year on walks and tried to learn not to be annoyed by the way it whips my hair around my face and instead enjoy the swirling. I've opened my windows early and late to listen to its varied voice, and have fallen asleep to it's lullabies. I've been amazed to wake in the morning and see that a full-sized playhouse was tossed across the yard in the night by the wind, as if it were a toy, indeed. We've raced to shelter in the face of dark storms, in fear of the fury of the wind. I've been soothed by the fragrance on the breeze of gentle morning and missed the wind on rare still days.

Knowing the wind has been here all along while I haven't paid attention, I wonder what else I've missed.

With the golden shower of leaves raining down around me even as I write these words, today may be the last day I hear the sound of the Summer wind rousing the leaves to dance and sing and soon the voices of Fall and Winter winds will prevail in bringing us along to the moods of other seasons. As I listen again . . . the voice of Fall is already well mixed in.

Seasons. I'm thankful for the seasons of the earth and of our lives. This year I will be rewarded with meeting the child that wriggles in my womb today, just as winter takes hold across our land. My hope is that the miracle of newborn life along with holiday sights and sounds and the true meaning of Thanksgiving and Christmas will carry me far into the darkest months of the year before the longing for Spring and life starts to well up again.

But for this day and this week, I will rejoice in the light and breathe in the smells of this golden Autumn and worship the Lord while the gifts of peace and faith are swirling thick around me like the leaves at our feet and in the air.

   ~Sara~

"I'll praise my Maker while I've breath..."
   ~Issac Watts, in his hymn reflecting on Psalm 146

Praise the Lord!
   Praise the Lord, O my soul!
I will praise the Lord as long as I live;
   I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.
   ~Psalm 146:1-2

September Rain

2010-09-16T23:28:00.001-05:00

End of Summer Rain

Evening rain that rains straight down
without a wind to raise alarm.

Windows open wide to hear the soothing song.

Peaceful rain on trees and rocks and grass.

Dripping eaves and rivulets
add gentle rhythm

to the droning melody.

Quiet rain that puts us all to sleep
with gentle voice and whispered lullabies.

Falling water peaceful
   like the deep and even breathing of children sleeping
   undisturbed by steady rainfall just beyond
   their windowsill.

Lord, thank you for this rain that breathes out peace.

Thank you for this rain that brings good rest.

Thank you for this rain.

September rain.

~Sara~

Childhood Summer

2010-08-11T10:08:00.003-05:00

Four pairs of bright blue eyes were peering at me out of dirt-dusted faces. And compared to all that dirt, the teeth were looking pretty bright as they smiled and laughed and eagerly told me all about the HUGE toad they had seen that had distracted them from the city and roads they have been building under the big maple tree in our back yard. They were wondering about various options for tracking down and capturing the toad. I wasn’t really listening to their words as I looked at them from head to toe wondering if we could get them clean enough for lunch without a bath. Somehow all that dirt and sweat representing a couple hours of simple play, bike rides, and bug collecting was making me smile. Perhaps if we set up the baby pool today, we could keep all the mess outside.

The three amigos and the princess have come into their own this summer. Not dependent on the older siblings to come up with outdoor play schemes anymore, it’s been fun to see the things they’ve come up with to play on their own. The oldest kids were city born and raised on well-supervised outdoor play, with a 20-foot-radius from a parent at all times. For many years our inner-city metropolitan yard was the size of the proverbial postage stamp. This next group was raised out here from the start–with six acres of traffic-free, water-danger-free, outdoor landscape surrounded by hundreds of acres more of neighboring farms– and the four of them are just old enough now as a group to take advantage of it to the full. They have different boundaries and freedoms and different approaches to exploration. They have built-in best friends all day, every day. They act more like the boys (and the tag-a-long spunky sister) I’ve read about in old books–though fortunately I’ve yet to find snakes or owl pellets in their pockets when I do the laundry.

Childhood Summer.

Rivers made from sticks dragged through the mud

and mountains made with plastic spades and hands.

Later it’s handy to have a mountain as a ramp

for pint-sized bikes practicing for moto-cross events.

Rocks are made for smashing against rocks,

and trees are made for climbing

and somehow falling and landing

hard on hands and feet.

Tractors come and cut and bale the hay

which calls for better spots to watch

from up atop the fort nearby the field.

Popsicle messes dripping in the sun

and running through the sprinkler on hotter days.

Tadpoles become frogs on countertop
and caterpillars brought inside transform
to fly away as butterflies.

Tiny cars forever lost in grass near

kingdoms newly built under the maple trees.

Feeding birds and rescuing birds from

family cats without manners for our feathered guests.

Balls and puppy–and running fast with flailing arms

when puppy tires of sticks and toys

and chases down the kids about his size.

Bikes and glory on long dirt driveway and tiny bumps

that thrill like crazy jumps off dangerous cliffs.

Sliding and climbing up, swinging high and jumping,

and running here and there through paths

   made in the grass by dad.
Deep safaris through tall grass which waves
   above the head and filters sunlight
   down onto the jungle floor.

Visits, old photos, and cookies with Mr. Friend.
Mysterious animal tracks, new bugs and plants
to discover all the way to the mailbox and back.

Chalk on sidewalks and mud in outdoor pots

set over “campfires” made of gathered sticks.
Wagons filled with everything and anything
are pulled from here to there around the yard.

A foot ball game with Dad becomes a blooper reel
   that stars the youngest boy and girl
   who only know to grab and run…
   but where?

And special evenings when we sit outside

and watch the sky grow dark and stars grow bright

before we set off sparklers and impressive little bombs

light up the night with color.

And every day is sprinkled
with dirt and sand–

or is it pixie dust?

Open windows carry
laughter on the breeze

and catch me smiling.

Happy for childhood summer
that I get to watch
and listen to again.

~Sara~

(Thanks to David O'Neal for the "boys under tree" photo.)

One Thousand Summer Gifts

2010-06-23T19:43:00.008-05:00

As so often happens, I was led to just the right thing at the right time.

A friend of mine sent me a link to a post she found helpful. She rarely reads blogs, so I thought I'd better go see what she was sharing with me. After reading that encouraging post by Ann Voskamp, I happened to notice her sidebar link to a Gratitude Community page. Curious, I clicked on it. Some time ago, Ann decided to start counting gifts in her life, things to be thankful for throughout her day. Her comment about her spontaneous experiment of keeping a gratitude journal? "Giving thanks for a thousand graces has changed my life -- to glorify Him in all things!" She shared the idea and many others have been blessed by participating in their own way. She includes her count of blessings at the bottom of her blog posts on Mondays.

Well, it just so happens that for the past few weeks I have been intentionally noticing and journaling details and moments for which I am thankful, in keeping with my goal of Not Missing Summer. The blessings in things big and small, unusual and common, spiritual and earthy, pleasant and painful, planned and spontaneous, intentional and unintentional. The blessings in common things to clean, organize, eat, wear, enjoy, plan, play, create, mend and replace. The blessings related to the family I hug and hold and kiss...and clean, dress, feed, bandage, comfort, teach, and more. The rare things I find achingly beautiful–poignant reminders of a greater beauty. Reminders of the hope I deeply feel of a new heaven and new earth in which the redeemed will live, in glorified bodies strong enough to bear it, in the very presence of God. All the things the Lord has woven into my life right now. The daily gifts He has chosen for me. Once I started looking, it was like gathering in a ripe harvest of blessings all around me.

Writing it down helps me see God's story in my life–what He is teaching me, and how He is loving me. I write out half-formed prayers asking Him to let me live it well. My hope is to walk through my days with a heart of gratitude, practicing the presence of God right in the midst of busy daily life. Realizing that any steps I make towards this hope is by the grace of God, I like to write about seeing that grace, too. On my own, and very often, my senses and my spirit are quite dull. I'm sure those most often around me are surprised to hear I'm thinking these thoughts at all!

I've been enjoying keeping track of these Summer moments so much that I've started grabbing my journal and throwing it in my bag so I can remember and scribble in spare moments in parking lots and parks. I'm finishing most of my days jotting a few things down just before turning out the light for the night. For whatever reason, the Lord has blessed me with an upwelling of gratitude and peacefulness. I came into the Summer a bit desperate for some rest and deep cleansing breaths, and indeed rest has begun to seep into my bones. Gathering up blessings to write down has helped. Reading that others have been helped by keeping track of One Thousand Gifts was fun, too. Personally, I think it will be hard to stop at One Thousand.

Counting my Summer blessings...One Thousand Gifts or more.

~Sara~

Farming and faith

2010-06-22T10:33:00.002-05:00

Farming takes faith.

In our neighborhood, the farmer who does the work in the fields around our house is a strong Christian believer, trusting the Lord to provide for his family. He shows remarkable calm in the face of wet and cold Springs, dry July, actual drought, impending hail, insect invasion or what have you. Whenever we talk to him, he has a cheerful peacefulness about the crops doing well, or well enough. We love watching him work. He has a predictable, steady work pattern and all of his fields are well managed.

Lately, I was also thinking about our common faith in seeds. That a kernel of corn or an old soybean dropped into a cold muddy field will spring up into a beautiful, green, food-producing plant is pretty amazing. It's an every day miracle. It's the type of thing no one would believe, except we've seen the evidence many times, even if we're not paying attention. I haven't gotten tired of showing our younger kids what happens when you put a seed in a clear cup with a wet paper towel. Just a little, dried out thing that looks like a rock, a sliver, a pebble, or in the case of poppy seeds–a little black speck of dirt. Add nothing but water, wait a few days, and the seed has fallen apart and a plant appears in its place. I mean really, how does that happen? The kids see it for the miracle that it is.

The first year we lived here, I was surprised to see that some of the farmers left their entire crop of dried out, brown corn stalks standing in the field over the winter. Being totally farming ignorant, it was a pretty sad sight. I thought maybe the crop had been ruined by drought and it wasn't worth harvesting. Six months of snow and freezing weather later, the ground dried out and here come the farmers harvesting their crops! Nothing could look more dead than those corn plants after a Minnesota winter–yet the Spring harvest contained millions of kernels of corn which would provide food for people and livestock with plenty leftover to plant again, with faith that it would once again spring to life.

Like this.

Or this (soybeans this time) right by our house.

I found myself really thinking of kernels and new life over the past few months. I can't remember the last time that someone in our circle of friends died–then three died this Spring.

A 50-year-old wife and mother of four from our church died after a battle with leukemia. I had worked with her teaching pre-school Sunday school when Grace was that class, and she taught all of our children when they were 3-years-old.

A 78-year-old friend died of a massive stroke. Both Kevin and I found phone messages on our cell phones from him after he died, as he'd been looking for a 4-seater bench seat for the back of our van to replace our 3-seater. He'd found one.

And tragically and totally unexpectedly, a 24-year-old Bethel Band alumna and current Bethel employee, a young wife, pregnant with her first child, was killed while sitting in a traffic jam when a semi-truck hit her from the rear.

At about the same time as the Spring planting and near the time our first friend died, 1 Corinthians 15 was scheduled for me as part of the Bible reading plan that our family is slowly working through. A chapter filled with hope and the good news of the Gospel. The Apostle Paul, whom I normally don't think of as much of a parable guy, turns to a real life example of an every day miracle to explain the spiritual miracle of the resurrection of the dead. He writes that what is sown does not come to life unless it dies, bare kernels or wheat or other grain becoming a body of it's own type. He writes of heavenly bodies and earthly bodies. What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. As always with Paul - sentences are helpful, paragraphs much better, entire chapters must be read to hear his progression of thought, and his letters (and the entire Bible itself) are to be understood in their whole. The whole letter influenced me towards paying attention to the kernels in the fields, the tadpoles transforming into frogs on the counter, the caterpillars transforming into butterflies before our eyes, and to the immortal souls of the people all around me–hidden in the tents of mortal bodies. So much mystery that we can't yet see or imagine, even with examples all around us.

Hoping in the resurrection requires faith.

Lord, give us that faith that hopes in your Good News, and believes that seeds spring up into new life.

~Sara~
***
(I Corinthians 15 - English Standard Version)

The Resurrection of Christ

15:1 Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, 2 and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you believed in vain.

3 For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, 4 that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, 5 and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have fallen asleep. 7 Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8 Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9 For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me was not in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. 11 Whether then it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed.

The Resurrection of the Dead

12 Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? 13 But if there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. 14 And if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain. 15 We are even found to be misrepresenting God, because we testified about God that he raised Christ, whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. 16 For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised. 17 And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. 18 Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. 19 If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.

20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 21 For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. 22 For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. 24 Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. 25 For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. 26 The last enemy to be destroyed is death. 27 For “God has put all things in subjection under his feet.” But when it says, “all things are put in subjection,” it is plain that he is excepted who put all things in subjection under him. 28 When all things are subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be subjected to him who put all things in subjection under him, that God may be all in all.

29 Otherwise, what do people mean by being baptized on behalf of the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptized on their behalf? 30 Why are we in danger every hour? 31 I protest, brothers, by my pride in you, which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, I die every day! 32 What do I gain if, humanly speaking, I fought with beasts at Ephesus? If the dead are not raised, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” 33 Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.” 34 Wake up from your drunken stupor, as is right, and do not go on sinning. For some have no knowledge of God. I say this to your shame.

The Resurrection Body

35 But someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?” 36 You foolish person! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. 37 And what you sow is not the body that is to be, but a bare kernel, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain. 38 But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body. 39 For not all flesh is the same, but there is one kind for humans, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish. 40 There are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies, but the glory of the heavenly is of one kind, and the glory of the earthly is of another. 41 There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for star differs from star in glory.

42 So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. 43 It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. 44 It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. 45 Thus it is written, “The first man Adam became a living being”; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit.46 But it is not the spiritual that is first but the natural, and then the spiritual. 47 The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man is from heaven. 48 As was the man of dust, so also are those who are of the dust, and as is the man of heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. 49 Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.

Mystery and Victory

50 I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable.51 Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. 53 For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54 When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
55 “O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”

56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

58 Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

Halleluia exhaled in every breath

2010-06-16T23:42:00.009-05:00

The January trees are fully awake, dressed in Summer garb, and waiting in their corner chapel.

Strong limbs raise a friendly wave
   and nod at passing clouds.

Whispered murmur, evening's breeze
   returns the cordial sign.

Currents of yesterday mixed with tomorrow
   weave comfortable robes of cooling mist.

Frog chorus antiphonies make echoes
   through the woodsy halls,
   while birds sing evensong
   over rhythmic insect buzz.

Grass, leaves, vines...a wild tangled green.
   Vibrant carpets. Lushness of life.

The atmosphere charged with tranquil vitality.

A dangerous peace
   that pushes out all unclean things

and claims the space as

holy sanctuary.

The privilege, mine, to stand upon that hallowed ground.

Hallelujah exhaled in every breath.
The Spirit’s gift.

   ~Sara~

***
Hallelujah is a direct cry of joyful praise, meaning Praise Yahweh,
while calling others to also join in joyful praise of our Lord.

Praise the LORD!
   Praise the LORD, O my soul!
I will praise the LORD as long as I live;
   I will sing praises to my God while I
   have my being.
(Psalm 146:1-2)

Not missing Summer

2010-06-16T23:41:00.007-05:00

This year I decided I am not going to miss Summer.

Last year, for a number of reasons, I managed to spend pretty much the entire Summer indoors. This year I've been intentional about wandering around outdoors at various times of day. Not walking for exercise, which I actually did last Summer with apparent obliviousness to my surroundings (I have a talent for gazing at the ground just beyond my toes during such walks)–but wandering, looking, seeking and finding. Last evening, the rain had stopped and some teasing golden rays were shining outside the kitchen windows. After staring absentmindedly for a few seconds, I exclaimed "Oh, I'm missing Summer!" threw my dish towel on the counter, and, vaguely aware of loved ones smiling at my outburst, I walked outside.

Breathing in deeply, I slowly made my way up the dirt road looking for details that have changed from yesterday–there is a lot to see. My eyes were on green and flowers and bugs and dirt and stone. Trying to gaze into the woods, at this hour veiled with deepening dusk just inches beyond the outer trees, I realized that the familiar trees of my Winter walks were completely obscured. The smells were fragrant, earthy and unidentifiable. The air heavy with leftover moisture, yet crisp with the new air moving in with the clear skies that would arrive overnight. I went to my favorite corner, just out of sight of the house, with wetlands and woods all around, and stood still. Listening, feeling, gazing, wondering and praising. A moment to capture in poetry. A gift of treasure for me.

It would have been more than enough, but unobservant me had failed to notice other treasure hidden in plain sight. As I turned around to walk back home I suddenly saw the sky and actually gasped. How could I have missed this in my walk down the drive! My eyes had been all for the woods, and grass and green growing things. Nothing but an old hayfield and soybeans to my right, after all.

But above the hayfield, the farm field and the distant wild woods of the West...an amazing sky–dark and light warring together–explosions of purple and pink and blue and sailor's delight red. Pure golden shafts reaching down to set the Western fields aglow even while our road still lay under the shade of passing storms. The color reaching out from the light, from way over by the horizon into the dark clouds in the East for far more than 180 degrees, a huge bowl of sunset beauty. The kind you want everyone to see.

Our hayfield is about 2 acres square, and I could see Lydia and Essie in our backyard on the other side. I waved to them to come into the field for a better look–one look and 12-year-old Lydia was off for the camera. 9-year-old Essie and I met on the path. We watched for a while, enjoying it together.

I'd like to say that Essie and I are kindred spirits, but in truth–I "try" to see beauty, and feel thankful for the capacity to appreciate God's glory in creation when I manage to notice it. She is naturally drawn to beauty, patterns, and life of all kinds, has always loved everything in creation, and is gifted in observing it in unique ways and from surprising angles and also pouring it back out in an explosion of daily, original, artistic productivity. She sees what others see, and also a lot of things that most of us miss. I wanted to show her some of the things I had seen on my walk earlier so we went back past the purple wild flowers (and some new ones she pointed out to me) and laughed at the strange, huge fungus that had sprung up overnight that looked like a burnt squash. We did mosquito dances to avoid being bit, wondered at the strange ball of something green and hard with white dots that was hanging off an oak tree, and by noticing the tell-tale holes on a milkweed plant, found the first monarch caterpillar of the season. We brought it home, plant and all, to watch it transform into a butterfly over the next three weeks.

As I stood again in our kitchen, setting the milkweed plant next to the aquarium of transforming tadpoles on the counter, I had just started thinking about writing about my enchanted hour after the kids were tucked in bed in just a few more minutes.

But my evening didn't turn out quite like that after all.

Just at that moment, another sound of Summer burst into reality. The sound of happy boys playing in the last hurrah of the bedtime scramble turned into a painful cry–the type where I'm just about to say "Hey! I don't wanna hear that sort of screaming unless there's a lot of blood or the house is on fire..." just at the moment I look down and see a little boy's second toe twisted a bit, and bent sideways...where there isn't a joint.

"Um, Grace...go tell Dad that Ben's toe is, ah, bent sideways."

Within minutes Mom, Dad and 7-year-old Ben were headed to the ER, where I had plenty of time to think quietly about my evening while holding an ice pack on a sleepy boy's tender foot, or rubbing his back, or walking next to a wheelchair to X-ray. Then doing a lot of waiting for the busy doctor to come reduce the fracture, buddy tape the toe to his big toe, and send us back home with a very cool foot boot on a very, very sleepy boy (accompanied by tired, and speaking for myself, crabby parents) in the wee hours of the morning.

Yes, this is my Summer. I'm thankful not to miss it.

~Sara~

Listen to the wind

2010-06-08T18:43:00.022-05:00

Listen to the wind.

A morning wind, awake with the sun,

chasing rain and storms that thundered through the night

but left no traces in the brilliant sky today.

A wind that greets the birds now singing with delight,

as if the morning were an unexpected thing.

A Summer wind

commanding lush, green trees to wake and dance today–

shaking lazy, gathered pools from vibrant leaves

to rain again in encore;

this time

down and down and down

to woodsy floor.

Clean and shiny verdant life now shimmers in the morning sun.

This is the sound of living trees rejoicing in their strength.

I think I hear their voices…

satisfied rumbles of roots that burrow deep in rain drenched earth;

sated leaves thrumming with life drawn up to the highest veins;

bark that creaks and cracks as sapwood bursts
into a new and living ring;

whispered joys of

growing, reaching, stretching to the sun.

The sun that is the lifeblood of the tree.

Can you hear that, too, within the clamor of the wind?

Listen to the wind.

The type of wind that rolls from tree to tree

like waves upon the deepest sea.

The rolling and rolling that fills the world

from East to West and North to South,

but doesn’t stop to crash upon a shore.

The rushing through the grass

that chases little creatures

back down holes

after ventures up to

sneak a smell of new cleansed earth,

and sneak a peek at rain drops

clinging to the grass above their heads ~

which shower them instead

to drench their boldness.

Listen to the wind.

This is no Autumn wind

that rustles past and urges us

to sit by cozy, indoor fires

or run outside,

brisk amid the muted colors all around.

This is no Winter wind

that whistles lonely tunes

or hollow wails

that make us shiver

with the longing of our souls.

This is no Spring wind

bringing tender wisps of hinted scents

to fill us up with hope of warmth

and living things

with each deep breath.

This is the wind of full-blown Summer,

of life and power and joy in all Creation.

This day, a symphony of sounds
and morning light on world so fresh and new.

Echoes of Morning in those days

when all things were declared so Very Good.

And it’s early;

the house is still,

with drapes pulled wide to greet the dawn

in all its light and sound and scent.

So I lie in my bed and listen to the wind.

~Sara~

Super Fix-it Woman a.k.a. Mom

2010-04-16T11:19:00.002-05:00

It might be a slight exaggeration to say that I achieved Superhero status this week.

Spring has sprung, mud season has nearly ended and bikes have been unpacked from the Blue Shed.

Everyone was amazed to discover that his or her bikes had shrunk during the Winter. Fortunately, we have bikes to spare. All bikes lined up. Everybody finds one that fits and off they go, one after another, flying in the wind down the driveway and dirt road. Jumping off small dirt ramps as if it were a motocross exhibition. Mud puddles parting and causing small tidal waves of splashes and splatter that will put Oxyclean to the test. Passage to distant corners of our local universe suddenly available to all.

Well, not quite all.

There was one problem. Jonathan, who at three-and-a-half has moved up in rank to full amigo companion to the other two amigos and accustomed to joining in the adventures of any of the older siblings (he's not your average 3-year-old!), is unable to ride a bike. Left in the dust near the house, or dangerously hitching rides on other bikes - something needed to be done.

I knew just the thing. Training wheels. Now.

Out came the wheels, which I was surprisingly able to find in a bag in the back of a laundry room cabinet on my first try. Next, the only open-ended wrench I saw in the tool box was the right size, which I consider a minor miracle. Standing on the front porch with training wheels and wrench in hand, I called for the boys to bring me the smallest bike, currently riderless and abandoned in the shed.

There was skepticism, but the boys delivered the bike. I proceeded to take the rear-wheel-assembly apart while Ben wondered out loud if it might be better to wait for Dad, and Sam crouched next to me watching closely to make sure I didn't lose any parts while offering commentary on the best way to approach the project. I proceeded to reassemble the wheel, this time with perfectly placed training wheels out to the side.

Mission accomplished! Cheering actually erupted among the crowd. They were quite impressed.

I became aware that a suspicion was forming in their minds that I might actually be a Superhero. Some recent evidence of Super Fix-it powers.

Putting training wheels on the bike without losing a single nut or washer.

Getting the Lego piece out of the vacuum cleaner tubing–– a deep and mysterious task.

Painting not one, but two bedrooms while Dad was out of town (Ok this was mostly due to Grandma's hard work, but I got some credit, too...)

Fixing the plaster on an old crumbling wall in the staircase.

Fixing the loose baseboards in my bedroom.

Figuring out how to move the giant circa 1960's deep freeze when half a dozen eggs fell and smashed behind it (this event was worthy of an "I Love Lucy" episode... and I may yet write about it)

Unplugging a bathroom sink with nothing but ingredients from the kitchen and a plunger. Bonus! Vinegar and baking soda provide exciting chemistry lessons while the sink gets clean.

I vividly remember the day I thought my Dad had acquired true magical powers - having secretly installed an automatic garage door opener and with remote in his windbreaker pocket, he amazed my 6-year-old me with commanding the door to open and close by saying the magic word "abracadabra!" When he showed me how the remote worked, I was no less amazed.

These days, wireless and remote technology of any kind is taken for granted by my kids. Of course we can get email while sitting in the parking lot. Who ever heard of a phone with a cord? Even one of our air conditioners has a remote. I'm not sure some of the kids are aware that the TV channels can be changed by buttons on the machine itself, leading to small panics when the remote control is no where to be found and the Olympics are about to begin.

But observable Fix-it Skill with actual tools, multiple parts, and preferably some grease, paint or other substance to leave small smears of evidence on jeans and cheeks and Mom's frizzy hair is still quite impressive.

At least to boys between the ages of 3 and 7. If you're looking for a bit of an ego boost, I recommend keeping a few around.

~Sara~

Light and joy keep poking in...

2010-04-02T14:27:00.012-05:00

Recently, I was thinking about the meaning of communion and the symbolism of His body broken for me, and His blood poured out for me, and unexpectedly I had an upwelling of love for our Lord Jesus and His sacrifice for us. It was wonderful for affections for Him to break through the mundane superficiality of my life and the experience was received as a gift. I knew there was nothing in me that had changed. He had opened my heart and I was grateful. Heading into Holy Week and Easter weekend I was hoping that by my own observance of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and then the joyful Resurrection Sunday that I could somehow recapture those feelings I had a few weeks ago, and also, somehow think deeply and dig deeply into my heart to get the whole picture of what He has done for us, for me. Instead–I've been sleep deprived, busy, irritable and distracted and I'm flying up to Easter with only surface attention to the passing days. How like God to give me a gift when it is obviously not of my own work and then to let me see what happens when I try to "make" my own experience!

When I was in the middle of my deeper affections a few weeks ago, I found myself reading through the Passion Week scriptures and really noticing the experience of the women who were closest to Jesus. Oh, what love! What darkness they experienced to the core of their being! And finally, what joy! They followed Him to the cross; they watched the horror unfold; they clung together; they watched their last hope fade; they watched Him suffer on the cross; they stayed until He died from crucifixion; they watched as His death was confirmed with a spear thrust to the side; they stayed to see Him taken down; they followed to see Him laid in the tomb; they left to prepare spices and ointment as darkness fell; they observed the Sabbath and left the tomb alone for agonizing hours as He lay alone, His body unprepared; they came again to anoint His body as soon as they could possibly call it dawn; they arrived to find an empty tomb; they were greatly distressed; they received the good news and explanation of the resurrection from angels; one stayed and heard the Lord Himself speak her name; they returned to the disciples to share the news of the angels and with the report of seeing Him alive... only to be received as women speaking idle talk.

But–their story was confirmed–He appeared again, and again, and again.

They loved, they feared, they followed, they watched, they were devastated, they were confused, they grieved, they cared, they waited, they went to care for his body–all dark, dark days. I try to imagine the darkness of their grief, but it is well beyond my experience. Then they were the first to hear the good news from angels, to find the empty tomb on the third day . . . just as He promised. Mary, lingering and thinking that her grief had been compounded by enemies stealing her Lord's body, is instead called by name by the resurrected Jesus. Her joy is well beyond what I can imagine.

Thinking through my impossible plan to try to feel my way through the weekend really experiencing the dark leading up to Easter, and then the joy–I find that I'm never able to get to that place of grief because the joy and light keep poking in. I'm too tired to concentrate on keeping them out and feel the darkness. I know He is alive! I can't forget the Good News because it is the strength and joy of my life. I don't feel separated from my Lord during Good Friday. I am, at times, overwhelmed with what He has done to atone for sin, once for all. But death could not keep Him in the grave. His sacrifice is perfect and He conquered death for Love and His Glory. At the same time He is here with me on my superficial, tired days, leading me and carrying me and taking me where I need to be step-by-step and giving me the gifts of feeling His presence and feeling deep affection for Him when it is best for me.

Let us remember His suffering. Let us believe in Him and receive His salvation. Let us be transformed into His bride. And if in our weakness, poor affections and pale imagination we can't grieve properly on this Good Friday for our Lord's dark day or for our sins, let us rejoice that we live on this side of Easter and that what He has accomplished is not dependent on what we do at all.

Yes, let us rejoice this Easter and every day, for the Lord is Risen, Indeed!

~Sara~

The rock craze

2010-03-26T17:41:00.013-05:00

The rock craze was started, innocently enough, by 10-year-old Nat.

This week, he found a handful of interesting small rocks and brought them inside for cleaning and examination. He asked if it was possible to find diamonds or gold in our yard. Although I responded with a distracted, "quite doubtful," he proceeded with some optimism to see if he had managed to find at least some semi-precious stones in the mud. After discovering that the kitchen sink was not my first choice for rock bathing, he went outside into the sunshine on the deck with a bucket of water and started cleaning. This activity caught the attention of three younger brothers who had been outside playing together. It's been a long time since any event related to water has been seen outside the bathtub. With an innate attraction to messes of any kind, Ben, Sam, and Jon (aged 7, 5, and 3) were soon at work collecting rocks of their own and crowding around the bucket–excited to see that clean, wet rocks do indeed look different than mud-covered rocks and plain, dry rocks.

Nat asked me for help in figuring out if some of his small rocks were granite, so I found a website with a Rock Identification Key. There was also a good Introduction-to-Rocks article on this site, which I found quite interesting. When I first showed it to him, he was dismayed. "I don't want to read all that!" He just wanted some good pictures for comparison with what he was holding in his hand. Turns out that, yes, he had several little pieces of granite. By this time, 12-year-old Lydia and nearly-9-year-old Essie had gotten roped into the rock craze as well. They were interested in reading the articles and seeing how the charts could zero in on the type of rock so easily. Our own First Field Guide for Rocks was suddenly in high demand. Several trips to the big rock pile next to the farm field were planned and executed.

Nat moved on to preparing a box for his collection, marking off a grid inside on a paper towel cushion and grouping them by type. He got out the hot glue gun to hold them in place. He has a very neat and tidy collection of uniformly sized specimens. Today he figured out a way to display more rocks on the inside lid of his box and said it would be nice if we could look for rocks on the shore of Lake Superior sometime.

Ben and Sam wanted boxes, too, and fortunately for them, getting rid of old boxes is not my strong point.

Ben went for a big box with tiny rocks inside (he made a grid on paper towels, too, but wasn't allowed near the hot glue gun).

Sam prepared a medium box with medium rocks inside (no glue gun for him either, he settled for tape inside and decorated his box with crayons).

Jon decided on his own that the kindling box would be a terrific spot for his display. He dumped my kindling sticks outside in the yard and replaced them with three large rocks.

Essie had been sitting quietly by herself while planning her box. Suddenly she went into action. She managed to find a sturdy box with an attached, hinged lid. She bent over the table cutting and gluing little rings made out of strips of cereal boxes – one inch tall, and one to two inches in diameter. She hot-glued these rings upright on the bottom of her box so that from the top there were circular compartments for each individual rock. This had the advantage of holding the rocks in place, but the rocks could still be picked up - unlike her siblings who chose either to glue the rocks in place, or to leave them free to roll around - needing to be set up over and over again.

Lydia concentrated on scientific collection methods. She found a canvas bag and filled it with things to make a good record of what she found. Ruler, notebook, Ziplock bag, pens and water bottle included. She came back from the rock pile with some beautiful rocks, which she had smashed open, sketched, and labeled. She had a pretty good idea of what types of rocks she had in her collection because she had learned a lot by reading on-line: granite, quartz, slate, basalt, and something really hard to smash that had streaks of rusted iron in it. Another with flecks that looked like gold.

By this time everyone was pretty impressed that there was so much to learn about the rocks just in our own neck of the woods, let alone all the rocks in the world. We wished we had a specific field guide for Minnesota rocks. Nat asked if there were a thousand types of rocks in the world. Making a wild guess based on the earth being a pretty big place, basically made of rocks, I quickly answered, "Oh, yes, I'm sure . . . " followed quickly by my realizing that there aren't nearly that many elements on the periodic element chart; followed quickly by my realizing that rocks are of course made of more than one element creating various compounds under various conditions; followed up by my realizing that I know next to nothing about rocks and that in reality I didn't know if there were fifty or ten-thousand types of rocks. Now we know that there are more than 700 varieties of igneous rocks, not to mention sedimentary rocks and metamorphic rocks. One website said that over 3500 distinct minerals have been described worldwide.

We are suddenly on a quest to really see rocks–similar to my personal quest to really see trees–which leads to my ever increasing wonder that I have never thought much about any of these things before, even while "enjoying Nature." It's like I've been seeing it without glasses on. There is so much more to see than I have been seeing.

But the main thing I loved seeing this week is the way that collecting, displaying, and learning about rocks reveals such unique and interesting things about each child's personality, interests, learning-style and approach to life. They each have their own way of finding rocks, deciding which rocks are good for collecting, displaying their rocks and sharing what they have found with others. Ben even got to take his to church for his Wednesday night class to fulfill a requirement for a Nature Collection, which helps the kids see how God reveals His glory through His creation. His teachers and friends Ooh'd and Ahhh'd over his Big-Box of nicely displayed Very-Small-Rocks and he got to add a new pin to his ribbon. Nat found himself wishing they still did Show-and-Tell in Fourth Grade. He took his box along in the van, just in case he got a chance to show one of his friends. Lydia followed me around with her carefully selected and washed collection until I had the time to really sit and look at each one and comment on both the rock and her journal entries related to each one. And everyone wanted to show Dad everything.

The rock craze turned out to be a wonderful surprise.

Lord, once again I plead for new eyes to see . . . trees, rocks, my own children, and everything you have to show me.

~Sara~

Joyful hope of Spring

2010-03-21T11:51:00.009-05:00

Fragrant breezes swirl old leaves in corners of the yard.

Tiny buds give certain hope of bursting life inside.

Brown grass dancing encores
   as last year’s life seeps out
   to mix with earth and new scents
   on the wind.

Mud itself a reassuring sign.

Bright, warm sun to mix it all
   in joyful hope of Spring.

     ~Sara~

* * *

Hidden in plain sight.

2010-03-14T01:00:00.019-06:00

Though it happens frequently, I'm always surprised when I realize I haven't been seeing something that is right before my eyes.

A few weeks ago, before the rain started, when the snow was deep and crisp and even...I decided to head outside for a walk and drag the big rolling trash can back from the end of the long driveway by hand. The trash can sits just at the corner where I first looked closely at the January trees, so I thought I'd go back and stand right in the same spot and look at them again before they begin to put on their emerald garments for the new season. While I was looking up at them, I was thinking that for five years I have been trying to learn how to identify trees by looking at their leaves with very little success, and now, in the leafless Wintertime I have discovered there are a lot of distinct features of each type of tree that have nothing to do with the leaves. This has been helpful to me in finally making some small headway in really being able to see the trees and recognize them. In particular, I have become an expert at spotting the wild elm trees that all died during one season three or four years ago. The reason I am interested in these is that they are standing, dry, easy to harvest, ready-to-burn firewood for our fireplace. These trees have become important to me in a way that no other trees have been important. I can now spot these medium-sized trees everywhere and am amazed that we weren't all full of grief at their demise, which at the time we barely noticed.

All Winter as I have taken walks, I have been looking at the same stretch of woods along the same driveway taking notice of the same dead firewood trees, which we have slowly been harvesting for firewood. On this day, I was wondering if I could also tell what the other trees were, by this time sure I had found all the firewood trees in the woods along that well-walked driveway. I decided to really look at all the oaks along there to try to see what is oakish about an oak. And halfway back, I looked up at the branches way up at the tips and stopped stunned. Right in the middle of the silhouette of branches against the sky - way up high, not too far into the woods, I saw the tell tale signs of an old dead tree. Small finger branches missing, just the medium and larger branches pointing up like spears to the sky. It was a dead oak, a big dead oak, and it had been dead for several years. Looking lower, some bark was peeling off - but it stood strong and tall and I didn't see any rot. A perfect firewood tree of the best type of hard wood, and most likely already seasoned and ready to burn! I had walked that walk dozens of times, looking for firewood, praying for firewood, being thankful for firewood and had totally, completely missed this huge tree.

I had not lifted my eyes high enough to see it.

Ever since, I've been thinking.

This hundred-year-old tree has been a happy surprise providing enough good hardwood to stretch this season and start next year's wood pile. It is an encouragement to me of the Lord as Provider–that He can be trusted to know of our needs and provide for them at just the right time and to reveal it to us when we will be most blessed by it. I'm reminded that He is my Abba Father and I am his child and I can rest in Him. I'm reminded that I'm more precious than a sparrow and the lilies of the field and I do not need to be anxious about my needs. I think of Peter and the temple tax and Jesus directing him to go and take the first fish out of the sea and take the coin out of the fish's mouth for the payment of the tax. This is not some slight-of-hand magic trick like an old uncle pulling a coin out from behind an ear. The fish had a real life, which included the mysterious acquisition of a coin, which in turn, eventually, in God's perfect timing, became the provision for Peter and Jesus. Likewise our old tree had a life of its own, day after day for a hundred years, serving many purposes before finally providing wood for us. God's designs are intricate and are fulfilled in the fullness of time, His sovereignty infinite and perfect.

Before we call, He is answering. He is answering before I have eyes to see it.

I'm reminded that my prayers are often small and hesitating, and even then I look for small answers. But with a new appreciation for big trees hiding in plain sight, and with encouragement from Andrée Seu, I am now feeling urges to make outlandish requests.

O Lord, give me new eyes to see!

~Sara~

Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking, I will hear. ~Isaiah 65:24

He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” ~ Matthew 17:20

“Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father. Whatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it." ~ John 14:12-13
"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." ~ Matthew 10:29-31
When they came to Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma tax went up to Peter and said, “Does your teacher not pay the tax?” He said, “Yes.” And when he came into the house, Jesus spoke to him first, saying, “What do you think, Simon? From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tax? From their sons or from others?” And when he said, “From others,” Jesus said to him, “Then the sons are free. However, not to give offense to them, go to the sea and cast a hook and take the first fish that comes up, and when you open its mouth you will find a shekel. Take that and give it to them for me and for yourself.” ~Matthew 17:24-27
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."~Matthew 6:25-33

*It's possible that I got the idea about the coin in the fish's mouth not being a slight-of-hand trick from a John Piper sermon...I have just the vaguest memory of him describing the life of that fish...