Uranus Through the Eyes of an 8 Year Old

This was an actual conversation in our van on the way home from Melfort the other day:

(Jimmy is my  husband and Caleb is my 8 year old son.)

Jimmy:  Can you tell me something about the planet Venus? 

Caleb:  I do believe it's related to Uranus. (snorrrt... giggle)

Jimmy:  Ahem, I mean, what is the planet made up of? 

Caleb:  (snorrrrt... hahahah...)  I don't know, but I know that Uranus is surrounded by methane!  (Ahahah!!!) 

Jimmy (stifling a giggle of his own):  Did you know that the planet Venus has a hole with lava flowing out of it? 

Caleb (With as straight a face as possible):  If Uranus had something flowing out of it, it wouldn't be lava... 

OH FOR PETE'S SAKE!!!

I have to admit, I am impressed with my 8 year old's quick thinking skills, but seriously...

Christmas All Year Through

This time of year we think about

Christmas carols and Christmas trees,

And gifts and stockings and pumpkin pie,

Mashed potatoes and big turkeys.

We even think of baby Jesus

Lying in the hay,

With angels singing and cattle lowing

On that first Christmas day.



But when the day is done and the tree comes down

When we're full and our new toys break...

Will we remember Jesus

And the sacrifice He did make?

Jesus didn't stay a baby -

He gave His life for you.

And if you'll give your life to Him

He'll stay with you all year through.

I wrote this poem for my kids to read tonight at the Lost River Community Christmas Dinner and Talent Show.  I had looked for a Christmas poem for them to read, and couldn't find one I liked, so I figured I'd write my own!

Unravelling

Maybe once I finish unravelling completely God will knit me back together better than I was in the first place.  A new, improved Me.  How long does this take exactly?

Gardening, Perfectionism and Excuses

I am an anomaly in a family that comes from a long line of gardening perfectionists.  So when I moved back home (we share an acreage with my grandparents and my parents are just down the road, with their ever-watchful eyes perusing my yard care), it was a challenge for me to do things "right".  I am trying, really I am, but my lack of garden intuition sticks out like a sore thumb.  A big, green, sore thumb.  Because I do think that green thumb is in there.  Somewhere.  I enjoy gardening.  And in a way, I am even a perfectionist.  The problem is that if I can't do it perfect, it bothers me so much that I can't stand it and I tend to just give up altogether.  Weeding pretty much drives me crazy.  I enjoy the actual physical labour of it, but the fact that it is NEVER EVER DONE drives me totally up the wall.  I like jobs that I can look back over my work, pat myself on the back and say "Ahhhh... It's done."  Gardening is never done.  It has been a real challenge for me to hold my temper at these little thorns in my flesh (or not-so-little, depending on the duration of the neglect).  Harumph!!!  They seem to taunt me as I look back over my work and all I can see is what I missed... and the acres of work left to be done. 

Not only that, I am having a hard time catching the farm lingo and traditions that I thought I grew up with.  When I moved here, I thought that a perennial was a body part (and not one that you discuss in public)!  Thanks to my wise and informed Grandma, I have now been educated.  But I truly had no idea that little plants need so much TLC.  Well, not the plants as much as the surrounding dirt.  I have considered planting plastic flowers in the perennial  garden next year.  Then I can just pull them up when the garden needs weeding, till the weeds out with the tiller and then put the plastic flowers back, instead of having to pick or hoe around every single plant.  See?  I have solutions, but Mom and Grandma would have conniptions.   Hahahah! 

No.  I couldn't do it.  Even though these sorts of ideas come to mind, I couldn't possibly carry it through.  Maybe I really do have a genetic predisposition for the homesteading way of life.  What else could explain the satisfaction I get when I mill all my own flour or the sense of empowerment I feel when I chop my own kindling to heat our house? 

Why on earth am I discussing gardening in the middle of winter?  I have no idea, other than the fact that I really miss the warmth of summer.  But it has caused me to think about the many things in life I have missed out on because of my perfectionism.  The essays that I threw together last minute because I didn't want to say I really tried in case I didn't get 100%.  (Because 95% was just not good enough if I really tried.)  The piano lessons I cried through and then quit because I didn't think I was good enough.  Long division, which I have never learned how to do because I wasn't willing to try in case I failed and I refused to ask for help (we had moved, and the new class already knew how to do it).  The picture that I started drawing in grade 9 that I worked on for a few months... and then threw out a few days before completion because it wasn't quite good enough.  And yes, I can pick up a flute and just play it.  But imagine if, over the years, I actually practiced and tried to improve instead of just practicing last-minute for performances I was invited to play in?  Maybe I would have excelled, rather than just being "pretty good".  Maybe if the emphasis, after my first performance at Caronport wasn't "she's only been playing the flute for two months", maybe then I would have learned that to truly reach the potential that God wants, it is worth the effort to try without fear of failure.  (Because I would always say, "I've never really taken lessons and I just saw this music a couple of days ago, so please excuse my mistakes.")  Excuses, instead of effort.

I see this same tendency in my kids.  To say God wants our best, is true.  To say God thinks our best has to be perfect, is not.  A lot of things come easy for my boys.  So many things, in fact, that if they come across any sort of difficulty they unravel because they have no idea what to do.  And I have such a hard time knowing what to say, because I feel it with them.  But we need to learn that even if we can't do something perfect the first time, we gotta keep on trying and improving, finding joy in the fact that we are attempting a real challenge.  I want them to know that there can be greater satisfaction in working hard for something that doesn't turn out "perfect" than for completing a project to perfection with no effort.  And, that its ok not to do things exactly like everybody else does. 

I wonder if I have to learn these things before I can teach it to my kids?  Or maybe we can work on it together. 

Meanwhile, I need to go water my houseplants.  I forgot to water them last week.  Due to that mistake, I had decided they will probably die and I gave up on them but for some reason they're not dead yet.  Maybe this is an opportunity to work on my all or nothing mentality!

Neat little boxes... Or at least they used to be.

(Just to give fair warning... This post has hardly been edited. I just typed it straight out of my head and threw it on the blog before I had a chance to chicken out!!!)

My life has always been neatly sorted into little boxes, organized on shelves to be opened when convenient and "safe". One box for Hubby and Kids. One box for church. One box for extended family. One box for incessantly smiling and chatting to anyone on the street who crosses my path. One box for each of the many aspects of my past. One box for my health and body. One box for my emotions. Different boxes for various friends. One box for Facebook (hahahah!!). No, really. One box for Facebook. Maybe even another for this sadly forsaken blog. One box for God. No. Not one box for God. He moves freely throughout the boxes in which I have given Him reign. However, there are spaces in my soul that I have managed to stash into well-sealed packages, neatly stored in the deep recesses of my soul on a dusty shelf where even I forget about them sometimes. These are places that God has prodded with gentle nudges, telling me that He would like to shine His light on these hidden things. But they are not so pleasant and, being prone to ostrichness (sticking my head in the sand), I have generally shied away from His hints that these things would be better off opened up and dealt with once and for all. But seriously, the vulnerability of considering such things is unfathomable to me.


And so it has been a rather disconcerting thing, finding myself in the middle of such a mess. The mess being the fact that as of late my boxes have been, spontaneously and of their own accord, exploding. Exploding wide open and then attempting to enmesh themselves with each other. This I find disturbing. Very disturbing. And what I find most shocking is the fact that God seems to be well-pleased with this occurance and appears to be setting up these explosions in increasing measure. What is the plan here? What is the idea, merging my worlds so that I am uncomfortably accountable for more than one compartment at a time? But I guess moving forward, maturing and growing wasn't supposed to be comfortable, was it? This exploding and merging is requiring vulnerability on my part. I don't like that. I tend to run from vulnerability.


Here is an example. Two years ago I ended up with a high fever and landed myself in the hospital. Did I call my family? No. Did I call my friends and ask them to pray? No. I did get up the nerve to call my pastor, but asked him not to tell anyone else. And yes, my Hubby knew! (Duh!) But my boxes -- friends, family, church, and health -- remained intact, separate from each other. I recovered, and although it took about a month to get back to normal, few people knew this happened. I didn't even call home until well after the fact. (Funny thing about me, I don't usually mind telling people things in past tense, such as, "Guess what happened to me last month...")


Well, guess what happened to me last month? No really, something happened and I know it's past tense, but its relatively recent, so consider yourself fortunate to be privvy to such information...


I ended up with a fever and landed myself in the hospital. The thing about this was, my boxes pretty much exploded this time. First of all, let me tell you, being in the hospital is an extremely unnerving and vulnerable experience. If you have ever been admitted to hospital, you will know that they ask you everything. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Not only that, they ask you loudly and both their questions and your whispered answers somehow manage to echo and reverberate down the hallways and into other patients' rooms. (I know this because I heard the echos of other patients being admitted. So, fellow patients... I know all about you and you know all about me. Let's keep these things to ourselves, shall we?!?) Anyways... So, I was rather taken aback by the fact that even my... ummm... digestive system was thoroughly discussed. In fact, the nurses seemed fixated on that particular system, which by day three had me completely disgruntled, as this is not something I am willing to discuss with anybody, let alone complete strangers. (As a side note I asked my Hubby, who happens to be a nurse, if the nurses where he worked are as obsessed with bodily functions. Apparently so, because he gave me a blank stare and said, "Uhhhhh, yeah." I'm thinking he could have given me fair warning before my hospital stay, but unfortunately he has become so desensitized to such things that it didn't even occur to him.) Yeah, anyways. Vulernability. Yes. Very very vulnerable. And then, to make matters worse, some of the hospital staff looked familiar. You can't really escape this fact in a small town. Yet another merging of my worlds. Eeeeeekkk!


So, we went to a new church on Sunday. And guess who was there? People who work at the hospital. One lady approaches me and says, "Hi Stephanie." It took me a moment before I realized who she was. Then I almost fell over! My first thought was, "I think its time to move." My second thought (and you can insert incredulous laughter here) was "At least it wasn't my doctor." But no. God knows my limits. He's not going to push me in this box-exploding thing further than I can handle. Right, God? At the moment, I'm thinking its time for a little break, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there's more coming. So, I'm bracing myself for the next explosion. If I was to be completely honest with myself, I can see God's light starting to peek into those hidden places and maybe there is a point to this. I just don't quite get it yet. Does this post even make sense???

Consistency

I would like to teach you all about consistency. If you want to have a successful blog, consistency is what it’s all about. No one wants to go to your blog only to discover that you have posted nothing for months. They will stop checking it and give up. Not only that, if you are sporadic and suddenly bombard your readers with five posts a day they will become overwhelmed.  This might short circuit their brains and they will never read your blog again because they will be terrified of the overstimulation.


The blog you see here is a typical example of what NOT to do. So please, take a lesson from this atrocious behaviour:  Be consistent.

GGGGRRRRRanola

1.  Make homemade granola with only the world's healthiest ingredients.  Proudly slave over a hot oven for hours, because your family is worth feeding well.

2.  Somehow emotionally attach yourself to this granola.  As in, "If they don't like it I will be devastated."

3.  They don't like it.  Well, its not really the flavour, apparently.  It's that the sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds and WHATEVER else in there is hard to chew.  But I think that's a really dumb excuse, because its worth your health.  No pain, no gain.

4.  Inform family that I will not buy any cinnamon Kashi cereal (everybody's favorite) until they eat the granola. 

(Fast forward a week...)

5.  Ignore Hubby when he says that he will not be eating it because it is too hard to chew.  Tell him that he must be a good example for his children and that we need to do our best to eat healthy.  Not only that, he should not hurt his wife's feelings. 

6.  Hand Hubby a bowl of granola with milk.  Ignore his dirty looks and walk away with a look of victory.  (Doesn't he know I will be devastated if he doesn't eat it after all that tender loving care I put into making it?!?)

7.  Experience incredulous indignation when he says, "This stuff just broke my tooth."  (Yeah right... Nice try... You ARE eating that granola.)

8.  Look at Hubby's hand, which is holding a good portion of one of his molars, in itty bitty pieces.

9.  Run for my life!!!!  Or apologize for trying to manipulate him into "liking" something just so I can feel "good" about "doing my best for my family".  I chose the latter. 

***sigh***    I wish I could say this is fiction.  But no, it happened on Tuesday.

Caleb's Bedtime Prayer

Thank You Lord for this good day.  I pray that Daddy will come home from work safely.  I pray that Daddy will come home from work early.  I pray that Daddy will get a lot of money but he won't have to work as much.  I pray that Daddy will get a raise and that he will get more pay checks because we get ice cream each pay day so I pray he will have pay day more often.  Lord, You said in the Bible that You like to give good gifts to Your children and that we will have what we ask of You.  Ice cream is a good gift and You are the One who created milk and showed people how to make ice cream so it is Your will for us to have ice cream.  I pray that Daddy will surprise us by coming home tonight even though he just went to work and that he will bring home ice cream and that Mommy will let us eat it even though its bedtime.  Amen.

Dreams: Revisited

I wrote this same blog post over a year ago, but it was time for me to revisit it, and do a little preaching to myself!  I pray that it speaks to someone besides me as well...

Please take the time to watch the following utube video before reading the blog post - start to finish. It is well worth your time!! You will probably have to hit your back button on your browser to get back to the blog.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I have watched Susan Boyle’s video at least ten times. And I cry every time.

These are some of the lyrics to the song that she sang:

I Dreamed a Dream

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting

There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed


This blog post is dedicated to all of us who have had our dreams turned to shame, for all of us who have been visited by “the tigers at night”. For those of us whose dreams were so vivid and bright and possible when we were young… but they somehow disappeared, got lost, were stolen, or were trampled underfoot by the misdeeds of men and the destructive work of the enemy of our souls.

“Life has killed the dream I dreamed.”

My personal experience has shown me that “life” is not always kind. But our lives are not destined to end the way of this song. There is no pain, no wound, no trauma that God cannot restore. It is never too late. What the enemy tried to steal and kill and destroy is the very thing that God wants to heal, restore and make whole. What is that dream? What is that purpose that God created you for?

Susan Boyle’s voice was held captive for 47 years. But when her time came, she shone before millions of people. It is your time to shine. Be brave. Has “life” crushed you? Have your dreams (or maybe even the very essence of who you are) been ripped to pieces? Are the things that should be bringing you joy, bringing shame and reproach instead? Has your heart been broken? It is time to find yourself. It is time to walk past the fears and the prejudices and the past and your circumstances that have held you captive. Isaiah 54:4 says, “Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.” There comes a time that those things that have haunted you need to be put aside. It is time to look forward. It is your turn to shine. Don’t worry what anybody may say. Don’t listen to the jeering, taunting voices around you or within you. It’s time to take your stand.

God is in the business of restoring the impossibly shattered heart, of healing the mortal wound, of curing the incurable. Jeremiah 30:12 and 13 says, “This is what the Lord says: Your wound is incurable, your injury beyond healing. There is no one to plead your cause, no remedy for your sore, no healing for you. Why do you cry out over your wound, your pain that has no cure?” Two verses later, in Jeremiah 30:17, the Lord says, “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds!” What is impossible for man is God’s specialty. So, dust off that dream and pull it out of the deep recesses of your inner closet. Put your life and your dreams into the hands of your Heavenly Father, the One who created you and put those dreams in you before you were even conceived. This is your day. When asked what advice she would give to those who want to pursue their dream, Susan Boyle said, “Just do it.” Yeah. Just do it. And then sit back and see what the Lord will do through you. No one was laughing after Ms. Boyle sang her first note. Take your stand. Just do it. God will showcase you for the sake of His Name.

Restoration

I longed with all my heart to see His face,

To taste of His mercy and experience His grace.

I asked and invited and pleaded the same,

And prayed for His presence to surround me again.

But great waves of doubt flooded into my heart -

It was me!  I'm to blame that we'd grown apart.

I'm not good enough, I'm too full of sin.

Could He possibly want me to come back again?

I began to tremble as I felt Him draw near.

He said, "I love you My child; You've no reason to fear".

"I can't look at You, Lord - what I've done is too bad;

I've hurt You so much and I've made You so sad".

He took a step closer and said, "Look into My eyes.

Don't listen to Satan.  You know he tells lies."

My eyes slowly lifted towards His loving face;

Then I ran to Him, overcome by His forgiveness and grace.

What A Wife!

As diligent wives always are, I was busy in the kitchen, tidying up and doing some preparations for the next meal when my husband wandered in.  Well, he actually stumbled in, eyes mostly closed, looking like he had been awakened from deep slumber.  Because that's exactly what he had been doing.  No, he's not a lazy guy.  It was 4:15 in the morning!  What the heck was I doing cleaning the kitchen in the middle of the night, you may wonder?  Unfortunately, insomnia is a regular thing for me, so I have learned that time is better spent being productive than laying around in bed looking at the clock every ten minutes.

Jimmy never wakes up, not even when I holler "ICE CREAM!!!" in his ear.  And ice cream is his vice.  So I was a bit startled and admittedly nervous at having awakened the hard-working man who had a 12 hour shift waiting for him in the morning.  But alas, I did not need to worry because my man is the kind of guy every woman wishes for.  Once he was coherent, he gave me a big hug and said, "I see you are becoming quite the Proverbs 31 woman!"  I gave him an extremely inquisitive and somewhat suspicious look.  He can't be blessing me at 4:15 in the morning, can he?  I braced myself for scathing sarcasm, which did not come.  He continued, "You're getting up while it is still dark!  What a woman!"  I felt very very good about myself until I realized that later in the afternoon when I should be selling purple linens in the marketplace, I would be having a very long nap!

This leads me to the whole Proverbs 31 thing.  Every time I read that chapter I feel nothing but distain for that woman to whom the rest of womanity pales in comparison.  Well, I don't measure up anyway.  Is there any other woman out there who is like a merchant ship, bringing food from afar?  Does buying from the local farmer's market count??  I hope so.  Do all of you really get up while it is still dark?  (And stay up for the rest of the day?)  I have never personally bought a field or planted a vineyard out of my earnings.  (Earnings??) And although my arms are probably stronger than a lot of other women, I can't say that I always use them for working vigorously.  Seriously, I'm really too tired to get a bunch of work done after going to the gym... Our muscles need rest to rebuild, right?  OH!  I got one right!  I bought my boys RED jackets this winter, and therefore I have no fear for my household when it snows!  ('Cause they're clothed in scarlet!  Yay!) 

But this woman has seriously set the bar so high that even the thought of living up to her standards causes my brain to short circuit.  How can she do SO MUCH?  How can she buy fields, plant vineyards, make linen garments, sell them, supply merchants with sashes, all the while being clothed with dignity and laughing at the days to come?  I can only imagine my boys arising each morning and saying, "Hello, bless-ed Mother".  And when my husband praises me, I never quite feel like I deserve it.

I'm sure you are all thinking at this point that I have some wise words and encouragement about how we all are like this Proverbs 31 woman in our own special way.  Hmmmmmmmm.  Nope.  I actually feel disgruntled at both this woman who has us all looking like lazy bums, as well as the guy who wrote about her. 

But this guy (King Lemuel, if you are into details) said in his introduction, "A wife of noble character who can find?"  Maybe this is a fictional character!  Maybe he couldn't find a wife like that (and we all know that those Old Testament guys tried out a lot of wives).  Maybe she just doesn't exist.  That is the first comforting thought I have had in this whole rant.  Maybe we really don't have to try so hard to live up to what some guy thought would be the perfect wife.  I'm not saying there are no lessons to be learned in Proverbs 31.  I'm just saying that maybe we shouldn't try to compare ourselves to someone who probably never existed, and we probably shouldn't beat ourselves up for not being good enough when the fact is that condemnation is not what God wants us to feel when we read His Word.  Maybe I should just trust that God is working on me and try to do my best without trying to be perfect... 'cause I'm not anyways and it just stresses me out.

Effort

Hmmmm.... It's beginning to be evident that if I want to move forward in my life I might actually need to TRY.  Bummer.  I was really hoping to effortlessly float with the tide, but it looks like the tide is flowing the wrong direction.  It might be time to paddle.  Or even try to leap upstream like the salmon do.  Ok God... It looks like I need some help with this.  (Yes.  I know I needed help before, but I have finally gotten around to acknowledging it!)

I believe it was Ann Landers who said, "Opportunity is usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize it."  It looks like I'm gonna have to get busy.

Giving Freely??

Today, I overheard my kids playing...

Caleb: "Thank you SO much Silas! How can I ever repay you???"
Silas: "Oh, don't worry... you can repay me."
Caleb: "Can I give you a hug?"
Silas: "No, it will take a lot more than that."

The Bible says, "Freely you have received... Freely give."  That is sometimes easier said than done.  In fact, a lady by the name of Comtesse Diane once said, "We often make people pay dearly for what we think we give them."  So true.

When the boys were playing, I also overheard, "Hey! Come back with my body parts!" But I have no idea what that was about.

Rain Rain Go Away!

This spring, on the very same day that my parents set up a new trampoline for my boys, it started to rain.  And rain.  And rain.  It rained for over a week and the temperature was hardly above freezing.  Not exactly trampoline weather.  My kiddos spent a lot of time staring morosely out the window at the trampoline and wishing away the sogginess.  We woke up on yet another wet morning, looked out the window and then headed to the breakfast table.  I suggested that we pray that it stops raining... and we did.  Silas and Caleb couldn't wait to look out the window in anticipation of God's answered prayer and as soon as breakfast was over, they ran to the window to check. 

"God answered!", Caleb shouted in wonder and amazement.

"Yeah.  It's SNOWING", Silas retorted. 

Remember to pray specifically!  Specific prayers bring specific answers!

Change

Psalm 13
How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome ~her~"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
for HE HAS BEEN GOOD TO ME.

Isaiah 43:18
Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

Do you believe in change?  I do.
And just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean it won't.
I have hope.