Winter's longing

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.

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

***

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! ♪♫•*¨*•.♥

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 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 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)