Grace and Rain

growing up too fast

2012-01-19T00:20:00.000-08:00

Who is this girl?

Longer than the bathtub, now,

all arms and legs

chubby cherub toddler gone

in her place

this gangly creature, unknown to me

eyes twinkling with mischief and creativity,

her hair is strong and long as her will

she pushes me

tug of war

dancing an unfamiliar dance

We laugh and cry, together

often

how to walk this new line:

uncomfortable

beautiful

weary and wary

intrigued

capable?

I will myself able.

Elder Wisdom

2011-10-18T22:52:00.000-07:00

In the continuing wake of the unexpected loss of my father-in-law this past spring, I feel moved to meditate a bit on my other two dads. One who gave me life and supported me throughout my life, and one who came along in the nick of time to offer extra needed support. If anyone needed two dads, it was probably me!

Things I learned about parenting from my Dad:

Dad in his home environment

1) Play with your kids. Legos and board games are best. And camping.
2) When your kid runs away, don't give her the option of moving in with you. Escape doesn't help anyone.
3) When said daughter calls and asks for advice, don't tell her what you think. She might blame you later. Besides, you love her either way, right?
4) Be graceful about your transition to an adult relationships with your kids. Stop treating them like kids when they become adults. Enjoy grown-up things with them, as much as you enjoyed kid-things when they were younger.

Things I learned about parenting from my step-dad:

Other Dad in his home environment (with my kid)

1) Play with your kids. Legos and board games are best. And camping.
2) When your kid runs away, don't nail her window shut. She'll just go out the front door.
3) When said daughter asks for advice, pray a lot before responding. Then take her camping instead. Preferably far, far away from civilization. Maybe you should take a boat. Then you can tell her what you think and she can't get mad and run away again (see #2).
4) Be graceful about your transition to adult relationships with your kids. Don't be afraid to take advice from them. They might actually know something after all those years of hanging out with you.

Thanks, Dads. I'm one lucky kid.

Does this really need a caption? Seriously?

All Tangled up

2011-09-07T10:34:00.000-07:00

I reluctantly allowed my Grace-girl to watch "Tangled," the Disney version of Rapunzel. I say reluctantly because Disney princess movies irritate me on many levels: Over-sexualization of young girls, over-commercialization, and general Disney-creepiness rate high on my mommy-richter scale. In this case, she had already seen most of the movie because of a Fred Meyer playland experience that I'd rather not discuss (WHY are they showing PG movies in Playland? You have my kid for 1 hour- can't you keep her occupied? I digress...).

I must admit that the movie really, truly moved me.

*spoiler alert*

The story of Rapunzel typically symbolizes a loss of innocence, a journey into puberty (in this story) not handled gracefully. In the traditional story, Mother Goethel cuts Rapunzel's hair and "releases" her. The cutting of hair symbolizes separation from mother. There are many biblical parallels, but, as usual, my interpretation has taken me in a new direction.

In "Tangled" we meet a spunkier, happier Rapunzel than I have seen. She is content, but somehow feels she is missing out on something important that she can't quite put a finger on:

"And so I'll read a book
Or maybe two or three
I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery
I'll play guitar and knit
And cook and basically
Just wonder when will my life begin?

And then I'll brush and brush,
and brush and brush my hair
Stuck in the same place I've always been.

And I'll keep wonderin' and wonderin'
And wonderin' and wonderin'
When will my life begin?"

She is being deceived by the witch, pretending to be her mother (this is a disturbing element for the under-six set). As I was watching the movie I realized that the tower and the hair are symbolic of sin, "The sin which so easily entangles us" from Hebrews 12:1. Sometimes we are so "wrapped up" in our sin-life that we think it is normal life. Normal?! Living in a tower with fifty feet of hair to care for? Not hardly. We also tend to see our sin as a gift or something that we simply must live with or protect (in her case the hair heals). But it is not until we are willing to step out of the tower to experience LIFE abundant that we see our sin has really been hindering us.

"Look at the world - so close, and I'm halfway to it!
Look at it all - so big - do I even dare?
Look at me - there at last! - I just have to do it
Should I?
No.
Here I go...

Just smell the grass! The dirt! Just like I dreamed they'd be!

Just feel that summer breeze - the way it's calling me
For like the first time ever, I'm completely free!
I could go running
And racing
And dancing
And chasing
And leaping
And bounding
Hair flying
Heart pounding
And splashing
And reeling
And finally feeling
Now's when my life begins!"

And finally, when she realizes she's been deceived...

"All those days watching in the windows
All those years outside looking in
All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I've been
Now I'm here blinking in the starlight
Now I'm here suddenly I see
Standing here it's all so clear
I'm where I'm meant to be."

In this version of the story, it is Flynn (Eugene) who cuts her hair. I see Flynn as a prophet/Christ in this movie. He's a reluctant one, for sure (but aren't they all?). He carries a message for her that he doesn't even understand. He's not the worthy prince or the fearless warrior...definitely a prophet. His one act of bravery, cutting her hair (rather than save his own life) is a true act of love and selflessness. Jesus had to cut away our sin to free us- at his own expense, his own death. We love him, we don't understand why he has to die, then it all becomes clear. Satan (Mother Goethel) is thrown from the tower (read Revelation much?), Rapunzel's love revives Flynn, and he and Rapunzel live happily ever after.

They do return to the tower (in the original story) to visit their forest friends. Sometimes we must remember, or memorialize, the places where we have been freed from sin to remember how not to become entangled again. But in this story Rapunzel gets to return to the King's house (God) and regain her right role as a princess of the kingdom.

Now... have you claimed your rightful place in the Kingdom? Or are you living a locked up life?

Photo Credits: Google Image

When the World isn't big enough for your dreams

2011-08-11T22:49:00.000-07:00

Greeting the Sea

My little Grace-girl is turning five this week and I'm quite literally stunned by her beauty. Somehow she grew into a princess. I don't mean the plastic Disney dress-up kind, but the kind that embraces the world with grace and poise.

On our annual trip to the beach we pulled into a campground in the dead of night, pitched a tent by sheer willpower and collapsed into sleeping bags barely unfurled. By the early light of dawn (yes, those are my kids camping next to you) ~~the girls~~ we all woke up and ran to the beach for our annual homecoming. Baby Rain was on daddy's back, as it was raining and we still had far to drive that day. But Grace-girl kicked off her sandals and ran out onto the sand with all the appearance of a child who will jump into frigid water without a moment's thought. Then she stopped. And she raised her hands gracefully to the sky and to the sea as if to say, "hello old friend. I'm sorry I've been away so long. You look lovely, today."

When she came back to us she said she had to say hello as a mermaid returning to the sea.

It's moments like these that make me glad I'm not tied to a traditional life. God has given me a spectacular life, one full of adventure and unknown treasure. We've chosen to homeschool our girls (for now, at least!) and that lends itself to all sorts of adventure. A beach trip is more than a family vacation, it's a learning experience that will bring resonating memories for years to come. While others are scrambling to get their supplies in order and buy new school clothes and worry about the new teacher and think about how to juggle schedules... we simply are.    Not that I don't worry and stress and think about things, but there is peace in knowing that this path is the right one and that it can only lead to more adventure.

When we left the ocean for the year, we made one last stop at a well-traveled beach. I found a shell to give to my Grace-girl and told her it was a goodbye gift from the ocean. Her eyes sparkled, her face lit up and she looked at me with joy. Then she turned to the ocean and blew one last kiss goodbye. Until next year.

House Rules

2011-07-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling like the rules just aren't laid out well enough. A good friend once told me that we often take the things for granted things that we think our children know and understand. So I began to question my Grace-girl (5 next month).

Why isn't it ok to knock over your sister?
Can words hurt?
What does "consequence" mean?
Is it ok for mommies and daddies to be mad?
Is it ok for kids to be mad?
Why do you have to take time-outs?

I was surprised to find that her reasoning on these points wasn't quite what I thought it was. For example, "It's ok to knock her over if it's just an accident." Or "it's ok for daddies to be mad, but not mommies." So we began, again, talking through things a little more. As the eldest, sometimes I pin so much on her and forget to explain myself in the process. Have patience, mama.

When I ran across this picture (see header) I began to think: what are my house rules? Really... what are those things that I value most in our home environment? Why not add things like "laugh*giggle*be silly"? Maybe we take ourselves way too seriously.

So I'm thinking of creating my own wall of rules... but rules that matter. Here are a few of my new

HOUSE RULES:

Use kind words
Laugh every day
Use your imagination
Make someone smile
Read more books than ever before
Make music freely
This home has an open-door policy
Treat others as you would like to be treated
Exercise extreme love
Breathe deeply

What would you add for your house rules? Would you be bold enough to print them on the walls of your house?

Finding the visual "me"

2011-06-12T22:38:00.000-07:00

I don't usually use this blog to randomly promote something, but I've been discovering some amazing things about myself because of a new site I've been using: Pinterest. It may sound a little shallow and silly to say that a website can help me discover myself, but it's true.

Pinterest is great because they don't spend a lot of time explaining what they are. Simplicity seems to be the new thing on the internet. Nice.

Pinterest is the place to "pin" visual images, found online, that you find appealing. You pin your pictures on a "pin board" and you can have as many different boards as you want. It's super easy. Once you've installed your "pin it" tool on your toolbar the rest is cake. Just click and go. Right on your own board. Imagine these categories and more:

my dream kitchen
PINK!
Organization, please
romantic places
my utopia
kids' stuff

Now- every time you stumble, tumble, or google your way across an image you don't want to forget, stash it on your pinboard. Etsy much? Pin it.

I personally struggle with style. I've never had tons of it, and didn't realize that I might have my own rather than needing to grab onto someone else's. Now I can see all the things I love, pinned up onto one page. Per topic. It's like a 3D bulletin board with multiple layers of different things I LOVE. All about ME. Sounds a little selfish, but take this into consideration:

Then: I'm frustrated, overwhelmed, a little lonely and craving something beautiful in my life (besides the obvious beautiful things in my life!). Have I forgotten the core of who I am in my effort to become what I must be?

Now: I see the things I love in front of me. And I see my house. I suddenly see where the two connect and where they fail to make sense. I'm finding myself, again.

I'm realizing as I grow older that the things in our lives do have value. Not because they are expensive, but because they instill joy, bring beauty and artfully express "self" in a way that is sometimes seemingly inexpressible. Plus- you can find kindred spirits out there. Check it out- tell me what you think!

ps- all the pics in this post are ones I've pinned on my pinboards.

Pruning

2011-05-21T10:32:00.000-07:00

This year was the year of God's increase. I say "was" because I really think it began when we bought this house a year ago. Two years ago if you told me we have two good cars, a house of our own and another beautiful girl, I would have been like Sarah. I would have laughed. And God would have waited patiently to watch my wonder and amazement as His plan unfolded.

We named the baby Josephine Rain (God Will Increase Rain) because we believe in this year of blessings and favor. And she is a blessing! So is the rest of the stuff that has followed her conception and her cathartic (for me) birth.

But with every birth comes a dying. For new growth to come, a pruning must occur. There was a miscarriage. A dying of my own will and ambition around childbirth. And what was born in that moment was a humility that needed to appear before I could be ready for this next season. And then...

This February my father-in-law died unexpectedly from lung cancer and other complications. A few weeks after that my maternal grandmother died from complications from a stroke. Then, a week or so ago my paternal grandmother fell on her face and broke her nose creating bleeding in her brain. After an operation and a stroke she no longer had movement in one side of her body, or use of her speech. She went to be with Jesus, this morning.

I know all three loved Jesus. The irony of the supposed "rapture" that was going to happen today is not lost on me. But all joking aside, I know loss must happen. I know Joy can be full in the midst of sorrow, and I fine myself living more and more in the dichotomy of that place.

I'm sure there will be more on this blog about loss, gifts and life. For now I'm sitting a little stunned by all this, but expectantly waiting to see what comes next.

photo credit

Blogging 4 Dummies

2011-04-19T20:48:00.000-07:00

If I could write the book, I would- but why read books about blogs when you can read BLOGS about blogs? If you have ever wanted to write a blog but didn't know where to start, or weren't sure what you wanted your focus to be, I have the perfect answer: GoodBlogs.com. It's an interesting little social experiment, in my opinion. It works like this:

Write a blog post. It cannot appear anywhere else (including other blogs) but on Goodblogs.
Publish the blog post on the site.
Wait and see if people like it. Most of the readers are other bloggers.
If you make it to the front page (the most votes, tweets and Facebook "likes"), you earn $20.

If people don't like it, you've learned something about blogging, or yourself. I find it's a great site for these reasons:

It's a quick and easy way to get something out there. The site is a no-frills, easy to use platform.
I like the sense of community- everyone who reads my blog posts is blogging as well.
It's competitive. It forces you to be your best in written form as well as idea form. It's great practice.
I have a chance to write things that don't fit into my other blogs.

Here's what I don't like.

It's become apparent to me that people don't care about grammar. I'm frustrated by how many poorly written pieces make it to the front page (not all that interesting, either!) so...
Is it a popularity contest? I hate those.
It's addictive. My "real" blogs are suffering. Not cool.

It is fun, and it's a great place to float an idea and see how it pans out. I suppose I'll keep doing it, but with better boundaries. Come check it out- it is fun!

Running Shoes

2011-03-29T21:41:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I was a girl debilitated by doubt. You know what I'm talking about. The lie sneaks in, untruth weighs anchor in your soul and suddenly everything you thought was real seems slippery and indefinable. I grew up believing in Jesus almost from the day I was born. I could recite the books of the Bible, sing at the top of my lungs in a choir of children, and even beat the best at a "find that verse" contest. But somewhere along the line I forgot to tend to my soul.

Or maybe I thought that part of soul-tending is soul-rending.

So I walked away. Actually, I ran.

Far away.

The funny thing is that you can't really run far when you're running from the Creator of the Universe. He sees you more clearly than you see yourself, even in the darkest, dankest, deepest hole you can dig.

I'm sharing this because I believe God creates beauty from the ashes of my life. I know someone out there is trying to run as hard as I did and I want you to know my story.

Fed up with the God thing, I strategically sought truth in my known world and beyond through religion, sex and drugs. I traveled to magically mystical places and met authentically wonderful people. I was open to everything in the universe except God. Finally the fruitlessness of my quest caught up with me. It no longer made sense to exclude Him.

God.

I was literally on my knees in the little cabin refuge my mother and step-father built for me, knowing I would find the path home.

I know you're out there. I just don't know who you are or what I'm supposed to believe. All I want is the truth. Please, please just give me the truth and the faith to believe in it.

There was no bright flash of light, no epic vision of angelic choirs, no face of Jesus appearing on my toast. Just a calm sense that He heard me. And He answered.

Try reading the Bible, again, I felt Him urge.

sigh.

Right...that dilapidated, broken down, conflicted, misogynistic old piece of...

OK. I will.

From Genesis chapter 1, verse 1, suddenly I was reading the Bible for the first time, with fresh eyes. A new perspective had been planted in my heart, like a seed in fruitful soil (there was plenty of fertilizer in there, believe me). And the faith grew. It didn't grow like a temperamental hothouse flower. And it was no rose with hidden thorns. Instead it grew like a sunflower; reaching for the sun so hard that you could almost see it gain altitude in your very presence. Strong and sturdy against the most prevailing winds my faith grew, always reaching for the sun. I took off my old, smelly running shoes. Time to stop running. This was truly holy ground that could grow a faith like this.

Repentance means "to turn," and I wasn't just turning back around. I was lacing up new running shoes and running like I never ran before. Running home. It was a short trip because for every step I took, the Father took about twenty to meet me. And it was a sweet reunion.

So, I share this with the hope that you will reach for the sun, today. None of us are satisfied to wallow in the shallow soil of a meaningless life. Dig deep. Then dig deeper. But stop the running. You might be surprised to find that Love is a free gift- for all. Even to those with the most worn out running shoes.

This blog post was inspired by one of my favorite bloggers, Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience. She's giving away a scholarship to the upcoming She Speaks Conference. The conference is about women connecting the hearts of women to the heart of our Father God through writing, speaking and leading. If your heart is to serve Him in this way, as mine is, please check it out.

Daddy's home

2011-02-28T23:48:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl my dad played the guitar for me and my sister before bed at night. I'll never forget it. When I fell in love with my husband, he was a mediocre guitar player. I mean, he played-Stairway-to-Heaven mediocre. But I knew it would be ok, somehow it would work out. And it did.

My girls both love music, as do my husband and me. We play guitar, piano, drums, recorders, harmonica, whatever is at hand. We're not great at it, but let's just say that he plays a lot more than Stairway to Heaven, now.

Last week my husband's father passed away somewhat unexpectedly from Stage IV lung cancer. No one knew he was sick. In reflecting on how this has affected us, I find myself mostly being thankful for the kind of father my husband has been to our kids. I might blog more later on my dads and what they've meant to me, but this one is for my husband.

We fell in love because we enjoyed being together and having fun. Having kids hasn't changed that. He's still my best friend.

He works hard, too. And he's teaching our girls what that means.

He's patient, he's kind, and he knows how to communicate. He might object to the subject of this blog post because he is truly more humble than he'd like to let on.

He's not perfect, but he's mine. And I'm so thankful that he is. This man loves his kids and he loves Jesus. Isn't that a great thing?

Grace and Rain

2011-02-12T20:52:00.000-08:00

GRACE

We gave her the middle name Grace because the day she was born was an exercise in Grace for both of us. I woke from the full anesthesia, numb, broken and weary. It was hours before I was able to see her and longer until I held her for the first time. The agony of that time has almost been erased, now. The healing, while never fully complete, has certainly run it's course. She has infinite grace for me, loving me in spite of my shortcomings, never holding a grudge and always willing to cry with me. She is my graceful child, ready to dance, sing, perform and show me what she can do. And every day she teaches me about grace and patience. Oh, lots of patience. I pray that she will know what it means to Worship with abandon, that she will be free in her spirit to always know God, and that she will know His calling in her life. Grace.

RAIN

We gave her the middle name Rain because God told us it would be a year of increase for us, and it has been! Rain often symbolizes spiritual blessing as well as physical blessing. Her birth occurred on a rainy day in July, the storms brewing outside while the storm of labor brewed in my body. Her birth flooded my pain and sealed, finally, the wounds from the birth of our first daughter. I pray that she will be a leader among her peers, a girl who knows her mind and will sway others to do the right thing. I pray that she will always bring blessing, not curse, wherever she goes. That she will speak life into others and they will know God because of her words. I pray also for her, as I do her sister, that she will always know God's plan for her life and most of all that she will always know Him. She is Rain to me, always smiling, always willing to flow with our haphazard plans and best intentions. Rain.

These are my girls, my greatest blessing, and my number one job. I've never been happier, loved better, or been more sure that I'm absolutely doing the right thing with my life. Just wanted to share with you all. :)

A day to celebrate a dream... reflecting on MLK Jr. Day

2011-01-18T01:34:00.000-08:00

Almost 30 years ago my parents took a leap of faith and moved their small family from a suburb in Southwestern Washington state to a town in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico (sorry, NM friends, it's true). Gallup, NM is mostly known for it's brief mention in the "Route 66" song as well as its amazing ability to be on the way to just about anywhere in this country. (As in: "Oh, yeah, I think I drove through there, once"...) A few years later, as a fourth grader, I realized the unpleasant truth that children as far away as exotic Michigan didn't even know we existed, as a state.

I went to school with kids who had never spoken English until they came to board at our school. They knew nothing of the gringo world except grocery stores and tv. I was a minority. I thought they had the cool life.

I remember vividly learning to sing "Jesus Loves Me" in Navajo. I remember going on field trips to the Rez to watch the sheep shearing and to watch the women weave on their large upright looms. I remember, as any child who grew up in New Mexico must, the taste of fresh fry-bread filled with honey, or with pinto beans and cheese. And of course, I remember chilies. Not the restaurant- but actual chilies.

My mom, I'm sure, must have wondered what we were doing out there. My dad was probably just doing his best to find a good job after finishing his PhD. My sister and I loved the sunshine, the wild open spaces and the friends we found.

Regardless of what happened to my family after that, or whether we stayed in touch with friends (thank you Facebook)... I know that Gallup, New Mexico will always be part of me. As the sun is part of the horizon.

I realized very early on, as I suppose most 16 year olds must, that a suburban life is too restrictive for me. I was made for deeper waters. Acting on some sort of epiphany, I traveled to genocide-torn Albania, through coffee fields of Nicaragua, and stayed in towns gripped by drug cartels in Colombia and Ecuador. I saw broken people, I saw beautiful people. I loved traveling and I hated it just as much. I was never alone but was always lonely. I sought some sort of adventure that would surely add purpose to my life.

My life has changed, a little. I live in a suburban neighborhood where every house is the same. I home-educate my kids (so far) and love my church, my family and my life. I haven't sold out. Quite the contrary, actually. The battlefield of mediocrity (in my own life) seems to be my toughest challenge, yet.

My number one job is mother. There are two small lives entrusted to my care. This is scary. I knew when we had kids and then when we bought this house that I would struggle with fear, doubt and questions. I also knew that the answers had to be deeper than geography. I'm not about to ship off to a proverbial desert just to prove a point.

Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, "The question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be... The nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists." Indeed. I pray (and work hard to see to it) that my kids will lead a life of character worthy of notice. Skin color may be a fading concern in our world, today, but content of character is not. Let my adventure be this; to raise children that make a difference. To show them a world worth living in and worth saving. And in the meantime to "drive out darkness," as Dr. King said, with love.

In the journey I now travel, I daily meet broken people. And beautiful ones. I love traveling this life, and sometimes I hate it. I'm never alone and sometimes feel lonely. But now I know that my life is the adventure I was seeking. My creator has a great purpose for me, and somehow, this is it.

What's yours, dear friend?

Holy Day

2011-01-04T14:20:00.000-08:00

We survived Christmas. It is some sort of miracle. We traveled three separate times between November and January and now we are home again, reaping the benefits of a warm house, a happy family and a feeling of satisfaction from holiday bliss (read: 10 extra pounds). How do you react to the post-holiday stupor? Here's my take, but I'd love to hear yours.

THEN:
In years past I would have been depressed by the inevitable end of holiday joy. By depressed I actually mean despondent. I would have faced a winter of cold days curled up in bed, trying not to weep. I would have written dark poetry, feigned lonliness and fought myself tooth and nail to accomplish anything worthwhile. Well-meaning friends would have tried to call, stop by or invite me out. I would comply or not. I would walk through each moment as a shadow, reflecting light only when it shone directly upon me.

NOW:
Today is a Holiday. Every day is a Holy Day, one that doesn't have to end. Since God instantly, miraculously healed my depression about 6 years ago, I can find everyday joy. Melancholy still grips me now and then. I might disappear into a book or force myself to go for a walk which is enough for a breather from my intentional life of joyfulness. Now that I have two kids I can't afford the self-indulgent ways of the past, so I find new ways to infuse life into everyday.

ACTION POINTS:

DO SOMETHING. Anything. Especially exercise.
Come visit my other blog to see how we have stretched Christmas out past December 25.
Look ahead to something else. Find a point in the future that you can get excited about and focus on that. How about that garden this spring? Or the project that's been waiting for the end of the holidays? Do you have a vacation in the works?
Are you a list-maker? Set some goals or New Year's resolutions. Write a list of things you can do to get to those goals.
Reply and let me know how you cope with post-holiday blues or what your New Year's Resolutions are.

Win free PJ's and help a great cause!

2010-11-23T19:28:00.000-08:00

November is National Diabetes Awareness Month and last Sunday, November 14th, was recognized as World Diabetes Day. A leading sleepwear company, Komar, has launched an initiative called "Pjs for the Cure" with the goal of raising $1 million dollars to support the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Before I get to the fun pj giveaway, here are some facts you may not know about juvenile diabetes and this great event:

Each year, more than 15,000 children are diagnosed with juvenile diabetes.
You cannot "catch" diabetes, nor has juvenile diabetes been linked directly to genetics or lifestyle.
Insulin does not cure diabetes, it only helps to keep the patient alive.
100% of every sale from PJs For The Cure will be donated directly to the JDRF to fund further research to find a cure for juvenile diabetes.

To win a set of women's, girl's, or boy's pj's, , please post one comment for as many of the following as you like. And please tell your friends, too!

Tell me what you like to do in your jammies!

"Like" PJ's for a Cure on their Facebook page.

Join me on twitter at http://twitter.com/BarefootTori

"Like" PJ's for the Cure on Facebook

I will select a winner at random on November 30th to receive a pair of jammies. Please make sure I have some way to contact you for size, style, shipping address, etc.

Spread the word! And thanks for supporting Juvenile Diabetes!

I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour by Mom Central Consulting on behalf of Komar and PJs For The Cure and received a gift card to thank me for taking the time to participate.

Green Books Campaign: Prayers Like Shoes*

2010-11-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

This review is part of the Green Books campaign

. Today 200 bloggers take a stand to support books printed in an eco-friendly manner by simultaneously publishing reviews of 200 books printed on recycled or FSC-certified paper. By turning a spotlight on books printed using eco- friendly paper, we hope to raise the awareness of book buyers and encourage everyone to take the environment into consideration when purchasing books.

The campaign is organized for the second time by Eco-Libris, a green company working to make reading more sustainable. We invite you to join the discussion on "green" books and support books printed in an eco-friendly manner! A full list of participating blogs and links to their reviews is available on Eco-Libris website

I'd like to say that I fearlessly tackled the idea of reviewing a book of poetry. The truth would be that I was a little terrified. I know real poets. I'm not one of them. I know real writers and real literary reviewers and I'm not one of them. What do I know about poetry? I should not have worried. I'm listening to Ruth Forman on NPR as I write this, looking for inspiration. Her smoky voice eases my worries like a cool, wet washcloth to a fever. Ruth Forman somehow transcends racial lines and even literary ones, to make her material accessible even to the mama sitting in front of this screen. Especially to this mama. "What's a woman without good stories?" Forman asks in one piece. "Stories make her know which step a good step."

I read the book in a single sitting. Then I read it again. And again. Forman divides her book into four sections covering love, politics, family and religion. Each section resonates with her sturdy but soulful voice. I feel grounded and lifted at the same time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Thank you to the Green Books Campaign and Eco-libris for bringing me Ruth Forman and reminding me to find a place where I can sit and eat good stories. Isn't that why I blog? I'll end with one of Forman's pieces that really spoke to me and my every-day life. In the midst of my eating, breathing, diapering, feeding, laundering, comforting of tears-ing and general daily junk that tends to get me down, this piece lifts me up and reminds me, especially, of my commitment to a "barefoot" life.

Unload your burdens, kick your shoes off, and wear your prayers, instead.

If I Forget to Dance

If i forget to dance

remind me

yes if i forget to dance

take my hand

lead me to the polished floor

help me take off my shoes

put on myself

*This inside of this book was printed on 100% post-consumer recycled material

Landscape and Memory

2010-10-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

I've been remembering all the things I love about living here and ran across this little piece I wrote awhile ago.

As we wind through the mountains, past familiar landmarks, a few snapshots remain from our weekend in the city: the lush green of Grandma’s garden, the towering elm and maple dotting the urban landscape, the busy buses and crisscrossing freeways. This weekend in Portland my husband and I return to a memory of home and to our first years together. A comfortable longing for where we began settles in our hearts, but an anxiety also flows through the moment. Is it right to long for the past? Is it possible to recreate the best moments, leaving the worst behind? We had eaten breakfast at our favorite diner in the neighborhood and took the MAX train to the zoo for our daughter’s first encounter with real elephants, bears and tigers. That concrete forest is behind us now as we begin the journey home. I can almost see the zoo animals parading through my daughter’s mind as she is momentarily calm, quietly reading books in her car-seat.    My mind drifts to another place of memory, my own childhood. How will my childhood memory differ from hers? How does that memory shape me as a mother?
   I smell mossy, wet Douglas Fir forest as we reach the crest of the Cascade range. The scent evokes memories of camping trips, day-hikes and canoeing in murky lakes. I see the ferny underbrush fly by and remember encountering my first banana slug. We played in streams, climbed on giant mossy logs and scraped our way through brambles of blackberry and vine maple. Worms, silverfish and caterpillars inhabit my memory. So does sadness, a broken family and a deep longing for what my child now peacefully takes for granted: security and the knowledge that she is safe with us. Her family is intact. No one is leaving, or moving her out of her life. There is no doubt in her mind that Mommy and Daddy belong together.
Returning from my thoughts I observe the fir outside my window suddenly give way to Ponderosa Pine as we careen down the eastern slope of the Cascade Mountains towards Warm Springs. Something about the thick moisture that lingers in the air in the western forest causes a fossilization of my memory. Thoughts pile up, detritus on a rainforest floor, slowly decomposing like a wet mass of imprinted ideas. My breathing tends to be shallow, saturated and anxious. But as my eyes step out into this conifer forest, I feel the dry air immediately lift a weight off of me. Wide open to the sky, my heart cracks open like packed, dry, lake-bottom dirt and all my trapped memories and thoughts escape on a breeze of juniper and sage. Here I am, heart wide open to receive, ready to love, not bogged down in a broken past. I can breathe again.
   The forest opens up even more to reveal the largest of the Central Cascade peaks in the distance; Jefferson, Washington, the Three Sisters. They are familiar now, but still majestic in their own right. Whether it is merely my perception or actual reality, I suddenly feel connected to this place in a new way because it is my daughter’s past, now. This landscape is shaping her memory. I want my daughter to live this wide-open life. This is the gift I give my daughter as we drive home across the expanse of juniper and sage: I want her heart free and wild; able to love.

a new thing...

2010-09-27T23:52:00.000-07:00

She's here. Josephine Rain joined our family on July 29, 2010. Josephine means "God will increase." There were thunderstorms the week she was born, but the loudest cry came from my own heart.

We had an emergency c-section with our first daughter and worked hard toward the dream of a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) with our second daughter. I compare it to climbing Mt. Everest. You can turn back with the experience of having known the mountain, or you can make it to the summit. After having contractions for three solid days, I labored hard for another 18 hours with back labor (ouch). Succumbing to my own human weakness, and a few other factors, I enjoyed the benefits of an epidural and pushed my daughter out at 12:58 am. Her squishy, squashy head pressed against my shaking chest as we bonded, born as one, a mother and daughter. I made it to the summit.

God promised me a new thing (see verse headlining the blog) weeks before Josephine was born. And He delivered. I yelled at Him a little, mostly because I needed to yell at someone, when I hadn't progressed after eight hours of hard labor. But He held my hand while the labor suddenly sped ahead in only two hours.

She is a brand new thing.

Life with two kids is like adding punctuation to an already great essay. Being one of two girls, my life seems to make more sense with two kids. I've been reborn, again, as a mother. Reintroduced to piles of diapers (we do cloth), the endless sorting of clothes outgrown, the exhaustion, and of course, the milestones. But she smiles at me. And it is a new thing. A beautiful thing.

Check in, soon, for more of our adjustments as a family, life with a sensitive child and a newborn, and our homeschooling adventures!

A Birth Journey

2010-07-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

It feels like eons since I've written, fellow bloggers and friends. I'm sorry to say there's no excuse, except for this alien life form who has taken over my body, and this new house which seeps endless to-do lists from the walls. We are loving this journey, but I have to admit I would be even more of an emotional wreck without my few saving graces:

1) My amazing husband. Seriously. He really puts up with a lot. He cooks and cleans, too. Thank God and thank his mother.

2) Our kiddie pool. On a 90+ degree day, nothing switches my mood like a play-session in the pool with my almost-4-old. My husband freely admits that he bought it primarily for me. Thank you!

3) Hypnobabies. If you're looking for a birthing class, please do yourself a favor and check this out- it's not as weird as it sounds. I feel so relaxed, comfortable and ready for this birth because of this amazing program! Many women experience little or no pain through the process of self-hypnosis during birth (it's not a "silent" program- just a meditative one).

4) God. This birth reminds me that my body is a sanctuary, a vessel, meant to serve Him in every way. This child is a gift to Him, and this body is a gift, too. Thanks for the perspective, Creator of the Universe.

5) Friends and Family. To everyone who calls, Facebooks or e-mails me on a regular basis to "check-in"... thank you! I don't feel like I had a fraction of this support when we had our first daughter. What a blessing! I'm even making a few new friends in our neighborhood...

I'm really going to try to write more often, though I'm sure that's a silly proposition when we have a baby due anyday. Just know that I'm out here, I have lots to say, I'll be back soon!

Blessings!

A Great Give Away for a Hot Mama!

2010-05-26T12:41:00.000-07:00

Another fun blog tour for another great book! The Hot Mom to Be Handbook is a great read for first-time moms. Author Jessica Denay is part of a mom's group called "The Hot Moms" and gleans a lot of wisdom from the ladies in her circle of friends as well as from her own experience. This is a fun, tongue-in-cheek but informative look at preparing for baby from Week 1 to Week 41!

Chock full of encouragement for mom, sexy ideas for partners and great products to peruse, this book has it all. What other new-mommy book have you read that covered the all important issue of what to do about your nipple rings, not to mention other piercings?

About mood swings: "Sure, it's natural to start sobbing in the middle of Pottery Barn because the new colors are just so beautiful and literall the next minute feeling like you want to drop kick the sales guy for saying hello."

About exercise during pregnancy: "...a stopwatch might seem a bit over the top, but trust me, it's the fun part. In the beginning it won't be a big deal, bu by the end of your pregnancy it will be downright hilarious when it takes you fourteen minutes to waddle past your neighbor's house."

The good news for you- I'm giving this book away! This is the perfect gift for any new mom-to-be in your life. It's hip, fun and upbeat while giving a realistic look at some of the difficulties of pregnancy and birth. Stories from famous people and regular moms are all through this book and it is truly a fun read! This is a great book for both a mom who is planning to go back to work, and one who is planning to stay-at-home.

My only criticism: Denay confuses the terms midwife and doula (there is a difference) and while she does consider more "natural" options for the earth-friendly mama (more than a lot of books do), this book is primarily for more mainstream moms. Of course- this review is coming from a cloth-diaper, dirt-loving, hippie mama... so take that into consideration!

To win the book: Leave a comment on this post! Tell me a funny story about your pregnancy or from someone you know and I'll randomly pick someone and ship the book to you, free of charge! Thanks for visiting my blog and please share with your friends!

I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central on behalf of HarperCollins and received a copy of The Hot Mom to Be Handbook to facilitate my review. Mom Central also sent me a gift certificate to thank me for taking the time to participate.

Gardening adventures with little people...

2010-05-06T15:37:00.000-07:00

Gardening with kids can be challenging, especially if you enjoyed gardening before you had kids. Here are some tips I’ve learned over the past three years of motherhood to help you in your quest to get yourself in the dirt with your kids! Our kids are like little seeds, themselves- ready to grow and learn. Give them a chance to watch the wonder of a small garden patch (or a large one) this year!

Preparation of the soil: Read books about gardening with your kids (go to my Barefoot Books website for some great titles about gardening!). Think of this as “compost time.“ Talk about how a seed grows. Talk about how long it takes, the necessary components (sun, water, healthy soil). Have your child help you decide where to plant and do some weeding, together. Remind each other that a garden takes work, but is more fun with a friend! When it comes time to actually prepare your garden, don’t forget to add real compost and work it into the soil.

Choose the right seeds or seedlings: Take your children to the nursery with you and let them pick a few things they really want to grow, but be realistic about the space you have as well as the feasibility. A peach tree will not grow well here, but you could probably grow some carrots or easy flowers like sunflowers. When choosing seeds or seedlings, consult your local nursery for quick growing, cold-resistant varieties. If one of your little “seeds” is not interested in gardening, don’t force it. He may enjoy it later in the summer when it’s time to harvest!

Planting: Find a sunny spot, and do let your children help with this part. It is very challenging to not follow behind them and straighten out their rows or re-space their seeds, but let them have a space that is their own to plant as they like. Then make sure they respect your part of the garden as well! By letting them own a bit of earth in your big garden (or maybe just a pot on the porch) you are letting them grow, too, in responsibility, stewardship and a love for the outdoors.

Water and Feed: If you don’t have sprinklers or a timer, make sure to water your little garden everyday. Kids need water, too, so please soak them liberally. This works best if you don’t mind getting a little soaked, too. Feed your plants and your children healthy nutritious food. Vegetables and flowers (especially tomatoes) need lots of nutrients to grow. Little people need more nutrients in the summer, too.

Harvest: It’s time to enjoy all that hard work! Your little gardener has sprouted his own fruit and is ready to share it with the world. Flowers make lovely gifts for friends and family or just to have around the house. Have your child help you harvest flowers and vegetables, and don’t be a stickler about washing everything first- there is something very satisfying about enjoying something right off the plant. Even the most reluctant herbivore cannot resist munching on something he grew himself.

A final word: Don’t forget to warn your friends if you’re planning to drop a truckload of zucchini on their porch. Zucchini blossoms are delicious, too. Enjoy the sun and have some fun!

Just TRY not to dance along!

2010-03-23T20:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a fun little video, just out, from Barefoot Books. Share it with the kids in your life!

O Blow Thou Winter WInd

2010-03-01T14:49:00.000-08:00

Where oh where has winter gone? Here in Central Oregon winter seems to have passed us by. No massive piles of snow in the yard and forts, tunnels and slides carved of ice and snow are a thing of years past (though we did enjoy some fun sliding on the snow, this year).

Winter often signifies death, hibernation and rest. That time of rest has been welcomed and enjoyed by our family, though it seems to be passing too quickly. Spring has taken an early jump into our yard (the daffodils, tulips and crocuses concur) as well as into our lives. Much change is on the horizon for us. We are taking advantage of the housing market (Bend, OR is the worst in the nation for housing deflation) to buy our first home. We could be moving as early as six weeks from our home of the past three years. Also, we are expecting our second child this summer. On top of that, we've recently received news that my husband has congenital arthritis in both hips and needs hip replacement surgery (he's only 32!). We're facing difficult and significant struggles in our immediate family, as well. Change is usually good, but it can be challenging.

After a difficult winter for so many of losing homes, jobs and livelihood, I'd love to hear what is springing forth in your lives, now. Does spring promise renewal of old dreams, or simply a change in scenery? Are the crocuses blooming in your hearts as you face the new year or are you anticipating an overgrowth of weeds? Or are you expecting a few more months of winter? Share your heart, here, friend- let's see where we are headed, together!

Homeschooling Mom Confesses Desk Fetish

2010-01-27T21:47:00.000-08:00

If you didn't know already, I'm secretly an in-the-closet-organizer, though my closet would probably argue differently. I'm here to share a secret. I've found a new outlet for all this pent-up Martha Stewart energy: Homeschooling. It's starting to feel as exciting to me as the first day of school did when I was 8. The smell of books, pencils and glue; and of course the feeling of learning something new. Organizing my desk for the first day of school was a task I always loved most of all, at least until I reached the age of accountability: locker and binder organization. Ahhhh... (did you join me on that one?). Who doesn't remember the first day at Middle School (or Junior High), being handed your first *gulp* locker combination!

I digress.

There are no lockers here at our house, but there is a new (to us) flip-down desk, painted robin-egg blue. We inherited it from my grandmother who acquired it somewhere around 1945.
The best part about the new desk was having June help me put all her homeschool supplies in the cubbies: glue sticks, scissors, pens, pencils, crayons, rulers, paper, stickers... so fun!

Tomorrow is "Gg" day. We're learning about giants, goodnights, geese, grace and God as well as enjoying green grapes and green beans... who said homeschooling isn't fun? Not me!

An Angel Day

2009-12-22T14:46:00.000-08:00

Every year we set up our nativity scene on a certain shelf, and every year it migrates throughout the house. This year is no exception. June, 3 years old, has now moved the entire nativity to a separate shelf where the tall wise men now eclipse the Santa who formerly resided there. It is a hand-carved wooden nativity, originally from Israel, so it requires a bit of a delicate touch, but not too much. She is gentle, and creative with these small pieces.

"Mommy, don't be afraid!" June is holding an angel ornament above my head. "I come to tell you good news!"
"Oh!" I say. "What's the good news, angel?"
"Trust in the Lord and I will carry you to Bethlehem to see the baby king."
So, we "travel" to "Bethlehem" and find the baby Jesus lying under a blanket with Mary and Joseph nestled up next to him.
"Angel," I say, "will you sing, now?"
"Sure!" And here is her song:
   Glory to the newborn King, glory to the newborn King,
   Christ is born in Bethlehem, glory to the newborn King.
   Gloria in excelsis deo (this line is translated through mommy-ears)

Do I wonder if she's getting the right message with Christmas? Of course. There are days when all she wants to talk about is Santa Claus and presents. But then we have Angel Days. And I sigh a little, knowing that sometimes this mommy-business is just a little out of my hands. I gotta trust my Boss a little. He's at a higher pay grade.

Winner announced!

2009-12-06T09:54:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to Danielle! The winner of a Jesus Storybook Bible! Thank you to those of you who participated in the contest- I'll be trying to do more of these over the next year... I love giving stuff away! Blessings to you all as you journey through December- heading towards the light of Christmas...

Check out this great video adaptation of the Jesus Storybook Bible version of Jesus' Birth- "He's Here!" and click on the logo above to see more about this great children's Bible (free downloads, too!).

Homeschooling?

2009-11-18T11:19:00.000-08:00

I'm the sort of woman who has a new project every week or so and now my husband is on to me. So when I first told him I wanted to homeschool our daughter, he gave me “the look.”

“No, seriously! I can do this!”
“Right.”
“What? Don’t you believe me?”
“Yeah… but…”
“But what?”
“Well, let’s think about it for awhile, ok?”

Translation: He’s giving it six months.

Ok. He has a point. I already have a home business, am involved with a local mom’s group, teach kids at a Tuesday morning Bible study, have two blogs, an obsession with Facebook, a greenhouse and six chickens. Can our family vision handle another project?

Here’s the problem. Homeschooling isn’t just another project. It’s THE project. I could outline my fifty good reasons and the answers for all your questions, but let’s just shorten it to this:

1) I will not hide my daughter away from the world, or vice versa.
2) Socialization doesn’t happen at a desk, limited only to your peers. It happens out in the world with all sorts of real people.
3) I’m not lazy, I’m crazy. You’d have to be crazy to think that home schooling is easy.

Homeschooling seems to be gaining popularity these days, or I just have lots of crazy friends.
Either way there is a ton of information out there. I could write a whole week of blog posts about the great resources that are out there for homeschool families. I‘ve read tons of books and articles and interviewed friends and strangers alike. I‘ve joined chat groups, follow blogs and have a journal where I write it all down. Research is not the hard part. The hard part is sticking to it, day by day, and being disciplined.

Who knows my adorable, strong-willed, smart little girl better than me? Who is better equipped to teach her than me? We already do "school" at home with sorting/counting (math), books/abc (reading/writing) as well as science, dance and music. Each year adds more structure, more planning, more thought. Sounds fun to me!

I'm so excited about the idea... anyone out there with me? Are you thinking about homeschooling? Why? Why not? Are you already doing it? Why did you decide to homeschool? Please leave your comments below! I need to know! Oh- and don't forget to scroll down and enter the contest to win the Jesus Storybook Bible! The contest will be up before you know it!

Come see me at Steady Mom's blog!

2009-11-12T20:43:00.000-08:00

I'm guest-posting today on one of my favorite blogs... I'm so excited! Come check it out!

Bartering Advice for the Frugal Mom...
Steady Mom's blog

Spiritual Community and Book Give-away!

2009-11-09T23:18:00.000-08:00

We like to sit in the back at church because we used to be Baptist. No, seriously, it's because there's free coffee back there. No, actually, it's because we like to have some room to move around when we worship (no one should be staring at the back of my head while I'm jumping up and down like a crazy person). We also get a great view of all the other people in the room. On this particular day I kept seeing people I recognize.

I'm about to tell you how big our church is, but first I have to explain that living in a small city like Bend, 3 hours from another Costco, it's rare to find a large group of people congregating, anywhere. One example of a crowd you see often is at the base of the Pine Marten chair lift at 8:59 am on December 26th. But that's mostly tourists.

Needless to say, Westside Church is fairly large and you can certainly feel lost in the crowd, but now that we've been attending there for over five years, I feel like an established part of this community. So here I was, sitting in the back. I began to recognize people: a woman from a Bible Study I participated in a few years ago, a man in my husband's men's group, a family whose kids are friends with our kid, a single mom from our MOPS group, a woman who works at the local grocery store, my insurance guy, a customer of mine... the list goes on. It hits me all of a sudden: I belong here. I love these people. They help me walk through life, transformed rather than conformed to the world. Not a superficial thing, at all. And impossible to do, alone.

I usually try not to wax too spiritual in my blog, but I can't help myself. I'm a deeply spiritual person barely contained by some very thin layers of superficiality and vague appropriateness. What I want to know is, what do you value about your spiritual community? Or what do you wish for in a spiritual community? Answer the question as a response to this posting by November 30th (Facebookers, you have to actually go to the blog) and you could win a copy of The Jesus Storybook Bible, deluxe edition. This children's Bible is unique in that it relates every story in the Bible back to Jesus, from Genesis to Revelation. I love it and I hope you will too. I'll draw a name from the comments at the end of the month.

This blog is quickly becoming about community, and I'm excited to see your comments, about yours! Oh yeah, and I picked that photo 'cuz the happy crowd-surfing girl kind of looks like me. But she's not. She's from Lollapalooza.com.

Echoes of Community

2009-10-20T01:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the monotony of everyday life gets to me, but little reminders in my house of our community, our friends, are always a blessing. My community is simply the people with whom I share my life and thinking of them always cheers me up. Here are some special things in my kitchen that remind me of those I love:

A mostly empty bottle of Dr. Pepper in the back of my fridge belongs to my friend’s husband. He loves the stuff. Our family doesn’t care for it. But there it is, in the back of our fridge, and it always makes me think of him. They helped us build a greenhouse. Our girls are best friends. We love them.

A bag of rice flour in the baking cupboard reminds me of our good friend who has Celiac’s Disease (he can’t eat gluten). My husband likes to bake and will make gluten-free treats when this friend comes by. We like having this honorary “uncle” around for our daughter to love.

A pizza in our freezer. It’s waiting to be shared with someone, given to a hungry family, or maybe just a reminder that we will not go hungry, today. My life is bigger than just me. Feeding people is a small thing I can do to be Jesus with skin on for someone else.

What matters most to me is family, friends and an authentic life. When I get bogged down in piles of dishes, dirty floors, or laundry monsters, I find my way out by remembering that my life is bigger than just me. Faith in God, loving others, and a willingness to help those in need should be etched into my heart. Maybe it is…

“Love God, your God, with your whole heart: love him with all that‘s in you, love him with all you‘ve got! Write these commandments that I‘ve given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning to when you fall into bed at night. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder; inscribe them on the doorposts of your homes and on your city gates.” Deuteronomy 6:5-9 - The Message

Happy Anniversary!

2009-10-03T08:23:00.000-07:00

Six years and counting...
Truthfully, it's been ten years, but it's only been six (Sept. 20) since the day I walked barefoot through the oak trees to meet him as my husband for the first time. I can honestly say it was the happiest day of my life. I could say that about childbirth, but I'd be lying. Part of our lifestyle commitment has been to encourage other couples to hang in there, make it work, and find creative ways to love each other. We are not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but we are committed! Here are some simple ways to love your spouse this fall:

play in the leaves together
have a coffee date in the middle of the day
turn off the t.v. and talk

Here are a few things that may have saved our marriage (so far):

praying together
jumping on the trampoline (great for aggression!)
sharing common interests and making time for them- especially active ones like snowboarding, running or hiking

We hope each of you find time in your busy day to appreciate the ones you love, today. Blessings!

Book give-away

2009-10-01T14:39:00.000-07:00

I know blogs are a little passe in the quickening world of twitter. However, I still enjoy writing in mine. SO- since no one who actually signed up to "follow" actually left a note, or vice-versa, I'm suspending the give-away until a further date. However- I just won a case of Jesus Storybook Bibles and I will definitely be giving one or more away in the near future (as soon as they arrive). So! Stay tuned for more freebies- hopefully the interest will increase or I'll just have to go back to my usual boring drivel. :)

Five more days until my monthly give-away!

2009-09-25T08:36:00.001-07:00

Hey, everyone- just a reminder! All you have to do is sign up to "follow" my blog (on the right hand side) and post a comment to this post or the one prior and I will enter you in a drawing to win a copy of Peggy O'Mara's "A Quiet Place," a collection of essays that were printed in Mothering Magazine over the past 20 years- great stuff for great moms (and Dads!). Help me grow my blog and get a great prize!

Muse-ings and freebies!

2009-09-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I love Facebook. I love the immediacy of it, the spontaneous community it creates, and most of all, the way it brings my entire life together on one page. Friends, family, business contacts and other interests connect on Facebook. But my heart doesn't live in a place of two-sentence postings. When I need to rant about my three-year-old and her refusal to say "yes" to anything, or when I need to express a thought that has been rattling around in my brain all week, I go to my blog. Read it if you want. Or don't. It's my boot-camp, my lego castle, my etch-a-sketch. When I need to write, I write here.

So, lately people have been asking me which blogs I follow. I scramble to think of a few, depending on the person, and e-mail a list from my "favorites" menu. We all have people in our lives who inspire and motivate us. I'm talking about people who make you want to sit down and write that novel. Or dance. Or spontaneously sing. This blog post is for a few of you girls out in blog-land (random fact: they're all moms) that I look to when I need a Tori-style pick-me-up. I follow a lot of blogs that encourage and inspire me, but these are among the ones who write of more than family news and pictures of their kids (i.e., I don't think they'll mind me sharing). So, here goes:

Bee Repartee Jenn (we have a weird family connection that is better left unexplored) is some sort of soul-sister and is a good writer, a rare thing these days. She has a good balance of mommy stories, life lore and ponderings. Her writing style is like mine, but with more wisdom and humor. Seriously, Bee- you always make me laugh.

This Simple Life- I "found" Toni one day when I was blog-hopping, looking for inspiration for my own blog. She is an earthy homeschooling mom who seems to appreciate the beauty and spontaneity of childhood exploration. She beautifully captures the little moments that are rest stops on that sometimes treacherous path of mommy-hood. Toni makes me want to paint my house with home-made finger paints. Though I'm not sure either of us would let our kids do it.

Steady Mom Jamie is a homeschooling mom, among other things. Steady Mom is also an international mommy- two of her kids are adopted from other parts of the world. I love her blog because she gives away wisdom, great ideas and a place to discuss the things that weigh on our hearts as mothers. Inspirational, for sure.

And, of course, Bo Stern... I rarely read anything she writes without saying, "oh, wow- she should get up in front of people and talk about this stuff... oh, wait, she does!" She writes exactly as she speaks and I love that about her style. She also names her kids cool things like "Tori." If I didn't go to her church and share a name with her daughter I might qualify as a mere stalker. Instead, she's a secret mentor of mine.

OK- Time for a freebie- Sign up to "follow" my blog and post a comment to this post. At the end of September I will randomly pick someone to receive a copy of "A Quiet Place: Essays on Life and Family" by Peggy O'Mara (one of my favorite people), publisher and editor of Mothering Magazine. These are amazing and quick-reading essays about mothering, life and the world around us. Tell your friends!

The Shape of a Mother-

2009-08-21T23:41:00.000-07:00

As a younger woman I bought into the lie that beauty was unattainable. I believed in my heart that my God saw me as beautiful, regardless of how I viewed myself. I even understood that the lie existed. But the lie permeated my life so completely that I became obsessed with ignoring it. Pretending it didn't hurt when I didn't match up. Pretending the comments from long ago didn't still scream out loud inside my head. It wasn’t until I became a mother that the truth actually made sense and murdered the lie.

My body was so stretched and full and bloated with another purpose, another life, that I ceased to exist. I had to scream and cry and scratch and bleed, laboring for a child’s life, not caring who saw or why. My heart had to be broken by the loss of a hopeful dream of natural childbirth followed by the anger, bargaining, depression and finally inevitable acceptance that I was simply out cold, unavailable, flat on an operating table when my child entered the world. I had to physically restrain myself from ripping monitors, wires and tubes off her tiny body so I could hold her skin to skin as if we had never been apart, fleeing from the hospital, a thief and a runaway. Walking into my own home, I had to feel the strangeness of my skin: the unfamiliarity of the new me. Who is this woman?

Through stretch marks, flaps and bulges I saw something beautiful and amazing. I saw a woman where before there had only been a girl. The rite of passage of childbirth had brought forth in me something completely and wholly pleasant. It is a sweet thing that the baby needs me and loves me unconditionally, but this goes deeper. I was made for this. I was made to mother, to love, to nurture, to set aside my own interests so I teach my daughter her own song. All the idealistic dreams of my youth gave way to the realization that I am finally, right now, doing something that matters. Please don't think that I'm saying this is the only way to make a difference, just know that it was the way for me.

I believe it is a divine love that created us, loves us unconditionally and longs to be near to us. But it is the everyday perspective of that love that breaks me and brings me to tears. How can God love me even more than I love this little girl? God’s purpose for me is now so clear: I made you to be lovely, be yourself, love well. Now, teach her to do the same.

How do I now pass that promise to my own daughter? Exposing her to real women, real mothers, real daughters, not glossy magazine pin-ups will only prolong the inevitable: she will be hurt by this. It is the wound we bear as women. But wounds are inevitable and will either break us or make us stronger. I only hope I can be there to hold her close when she comes forth from her own pain, when she sees her own transformed beauty for the first time.

As a younger woman I bought into the lie that beauty was unattainable. Now, as a mother, I understand that beauty is not mine to decide. And the uncomfortable truth: It's not about me at all.

2009-08-20T14:31:00.001-07:00

Three!

2009-08-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

This week my girl turns three. She is strong-willed, and I love her for it. I suspect she is a girl of strong character because God has some great purpose for her. I wouldn't want a weak child who doesn't know herself or what she wants. I wouldn't want a girl who only desires a high tower, a prince on a horse, and a pair of pink pumps. This is my barefoot princess, my daring diva, my guitar-slinging, hair-in-face flinging, dancing queen. She jumps on anything, is fearless and fun. This girl is a one-of-a-kind original. Can you tell I love her? Here is Juniper Grace, singing her original song, "Birds in the Nest" with guitar accompaniment. Happy Birthday, June!

Grandpa

2009-06-15T15:11:00.001-07:00

My grandfather's birthday was a few weeks ago. Some friends asked me to tell more of why my Grandfather was so special to me. So, here's my version of Grandpa's life...how it seemed to me, as a grand-daughter. Subjective truth is still truth, so here goes:

Leslie Harold Whitehead was born on a small farm in Roy, Washington in 1919. One of several boys, the joke goes, his mother (Elsie) wanted a girl and insisted on dressing him in girl clothes. Or maybe that was just a family joke referring to the girlie baby clothes of the day. Either way, my grandpa was always good for a joke and took it as well as he dished it out. Maybe that's why he was such a great runner. He ran track and was apparently quite good at it.

Grandpa went to medical school and served some time in WWII. During his time in the war he spent hours searching his heart and the Bible for truth. Apparently he found it, since he became a pastor and was serving in that capacity when he was debilitated by polio in his mid-twenties. He was wearing a body cast and braces on his legs when He heard God say, "Loose him and let him go." He went upstairs, took off the cast and braces, and never put them back on. I don't think he was ever able to run, again, but that didn't stop him from running "the race marked out" for him (Hebrews 12:1). Let it be noted that I didn't know this about my grandpa until after he died. He walked with a very slight limp, the only sign of having struggled with polio.

Les served as a pastor and travelled more than once to Africa, Haiti, and Israel. He pastored churches all over the northwest and eventually became superintendent of the Northwest Conference of Free Methodist Churches. After that he and Grandma spent a year pastoring in the Philippines and years building up churches here in the Northwest USA. He was diagnosed with cancer and died in November of 1994. The final word: Two memorial services, one in Centralia, WA at a church he pastored there just before his death and one at First Church in Seattle, WA. Both packed out. Completely. My grandfather touched thousands of lives. That touches me.

Things I will always remember about Grandpa:

He wasn't allowed to play cards growing up (too much like gambling), but he taught me to play poker (and a million other games, coining the term, "who dealt this lousy mess of cards?" just before winning, with a grin)
He traditionally scored at least 200 in a game of Scrabble. He insisted on playing upside down.
Grandpa was an amazing storyteller. His three pigs stories will live on in infamy (and on cd). He also read the entire Chronicles of Narnia, much of it on tape, for his grandchildren.
He doubted God's word, sought the truth, and found it. In God's word. He didn't always have the right answers, but he was a great preacher. Or maybe that made him a great preacher.
In his final years I remember him reading the entire Bible each month. He memorized large portions of scripture, some which he recited on his deathbed.
A great sense of humor and a still air of melancholy both defined him.
Grandma didn't like his driving. She still talks about it. No joke.
"He spent his life teaching people to live, he spent his last year teaching people how to die."- Grandma Esther. He spent time in his last year travelling to nursing homes telling people about Jesus. He led many to Jesus through his own illness and imminent mortality.
He did not want people saying untrue things about him in death, such as: "he could fix anything," "he always knew the right thing to say," "he was such a great man." Sorry, Grandpa. You were a great man. But you were never good with tools.
My middle name is Leslie.

I would love to read the comments of family who have other memories of him...I'm sure I could write much more, but this is just a snapshot. Here's a link to his obituary. Couldn't find a picture online, but maybe I'll put one on, myself if one of you tech-saavy elders (with a scanner) can pass one on to me. See you soon, Grandpa. Further in and further up.

Small Miracles- Barack and Michelle

2009-06-01T15:41:00.000-07:00

I just had the opportunity to read a great book for young readers: Obama: The Historic Journey by the New York Times. This was the "young readers" edition but carried much of the same content as the adult version. Packed full of information about his life, this book brings more miracle to the already miraculous rise of our current president.

I'm inspired by his story, probably in the most pedestrian of ways. Barack Obama appears to be a man who has dealt with the crap in his life and has been able to rise above it. It wasn't poverty that dealt him challenges as much as the lack of a father, instability in his home life, and a bi-racial heritage. He didn't take much time to feel sorry for himself, in life. Instead he chose to dive head first into everything he did. One of his greatest accomplishments, in my opinion, was his marriage to a woman who is probably even smarter than he is (can you tell I LOVE Michelle Obama?). The woman supported him when he was a community organizer and pro-bono laywer. Now she has the strength to step back and be a mother first when she has the opportunity to yield great power as the first lady. The girl knows what she wants!

Ok, but this book isn't about Michelle, it's about Barack. From his childhood through his first days in office, this book covers it all in great detail. I'm sure I'll hang on to this book as a memory of that day he stood in front of all of us and said, for the first time as our President (and I cried tears of real amazement that we managed to elect someone like this):

"We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness."

A few disapointments about this book:

1) The author doesn't seem to know his audience. The text alternates between incredibly simplified to obtuse and boring. This is a young reader's edition and could have been crafted a little more carefully with the audience in mind. Especially the first chapter, which should be the attention getter (not the overview, as in a short article).

2) A full page devoted to the foibles of Sarah Palin and barely a scratch on Joe Biden. I understand the pop-culture mania around Palin at the time of this book's publication, but it's a little annoying in an intented historical perspective of a campaign.

3) Most of the material in this book came directly from New York Times articles or from Obama's two published books, "Dreams of My Father" and "The Audacity of Hope." These are all great sources, but seemed a little heavy in the annotations.

Thanks to Mom Central and Mothertalk for the great opportunity to review this book and to relive the campaign days of 2008.!

Central Oregon Gardener's Almanac

2009-03-26T08:20:00.000-07:00

Many of you who live in Central Oregon may have always wanted a garden, but weren't sure where to start. Those of you who don't live around here may be curious about how we plan and perfect our gardens in the high desert. Since gardening is a "budding" passion of mine (excuse the pun), I'm here to show you how it's done! Simply follow the guidelines for a beautiful garden year after year.

January- Now is the time to start thinking about your garden! Pore over old seed catalogues, start a gardening journal to keep track of your plans. Drink a lot of tea and daydream as much as possible. Go out and tromp around in the snow, thinking of how great your garden will look in a few short months. Word of wisdom: don't kill your houseplants because you forgot to water in the midst of your springtime daydream.

February- Remember that you forgot to plant bulbs back in November and wonder if it's too late ("they" say it's not). Start poring over Spring seed catalogues. Make huge lists of things to do (in later months, of course). Start throwing your vegetable scraps in a "compost" pile that resembles a large pile of snow and ice. Watch your husband faithfully dig a snowbank off of your garden plot.

March- Watch with wonder as bulbs you never planted start coming up, while the ones you did plant fail to show. Order seeds. Feel very proud of yourself. Decide that you are now a real gardener. Seeds arrive, feel overwhelmed by the expectation of actually doing something with them. Throw them in a closet for the remainder of the month. Water houseplants as you resign yourself to a life of genetically modified food.

April- Face a renewal of your gardening energy as the sun thaws more snow in your yard. Pull seeds out of the closet and plant them in the dirt, in egg-crate cartons, in anything you can put soil into. Forget houseplants. Draw up plans for the greenhouse you'll build next year. Is that rhubarb coming up already?

May- Find your moldy pile of "compost" and try to layer it with hay and chicken manure to see what happens. Transplant egg cartons and indoor plants to garden. Plant hardier varieties directly into the dirt. Water everything that looks like dirt, just in case something was planted there. Word of wisdom: don't forget to label your rows. Watch the snow as it peacefully blankets your newly planted tomatoes.

June- Weeds! Shouldn't have watered everything, afterall. Beneath a field of cheat-grass, find some beans and peas trying to fight their way through. Find pile of plant identifying tags that you made in February but never filled out and try to remember where you planted what. Call all your friends to see if anyone wants some rhubarb.

July- Have hubby put in drip-line on a timer so you don't have to spend so much darn time out in the garden watering. Enjoy some lettuce that survived the predators. Stuff your child's pockets with snap peas and spinach leaves. Spend an hour or so looking for your garden journal to see what you were supposed to do this month while nibbling on asparagus and ignoring the weeds. Decide it's too hot to worry about the garden and go to the farmer's market, instead.

August- Remember the "compost" pile and find a pleasant surprise: it's almost compost-y! Stir it up, water, and cover with more hay. Teach toddler how to "weed" and find she's pulled up all the sunflowers that were shading the lettuce that's already looking a little wilted. Look up recipes online for anything with rhubarb.

September- Pinch yourself, summer's over! The first frost comes and surprises your prized tomato (only one so far). So much for that. Good thing the lone pumpkin survived!

October- As you cover the garden with mulch for the winter, wonder why you didn't spend more time out here in this fabulous place. Vow to do better next year.

November- Tell everyone how you were just "practicing" last year and that next year you plan to have a "real" garden. Don't forget to mention all your plans, including greenhouse outbuildings and raised beds.

December- Start a new compost pile. Start daydreaming about spring. Maybe next year we'll have a flower-garden, too. Couldn't be that hard, right? Wake up in the middle of the night in a dead sweat remembering that you forgot to do the fall pruning back in September.

And there you have it, folks. That's the way to a beautiful garden in Central Oregon. Now- I need to go find those seeds...

A few actual tips:

-wall-o-waters or cold frames can help your plants get a strong start through our cold nights

-choose quick-growing varietals for success against our short growing season. Most local nurseries carry successful varieties.

-add lime and manure to your soil to counteract our poor growing conditions

-always read the directions on the seed pack, and don't be afraid to ask the nice folks at your local nursery for some free advice.

-Here's a great resource for gardeners in our area: http://www.juniperandsage.com/garden/book.htm

Face to Face on Facebook

2009-02-22T15:14:00.000-08:00

The question on my heart: Is Facebook good or evil?
There is a great deal of debate about this right now. I tend to fall in the "good" camp (anyone who knows me on Facebook can attest to my addiction).

Evil says:

This is not deep friendship
It is wasting your time
It is selfish and self-centered
What are you actually accomplishing?
Is there any personal growth that can come from this?
Is it dangerous for our kids?

Here's my take:

It IS deep friendship and here's why: I'm a stay-at-home mom which means that the last time I finished a sentence without being interrupted (outside of nap time) was almost three years ago. Being able to dictate when and how I finish my thought is a powerful tool for me. This relates to e-mail, too. The second I pick up the phone she's onto me. But I can jot down a quick thought to a friend on her page and be done with it in 10 seconds. Which one makes a better friend? The one who actually reaches out in a filtered environment without having to wipe bottoms in the background of the conversation.
It is NOT wasting my time. I have a home business, am in leadership at our MOPS group and am co-leading a Bible Study of 20 women. I also have family and friends scattered to the far winds. What better way to keep track of everyone, all in one place! Granted, not all those friendships will be deep ones, but that's why there are FILTERS, PEOPLE! Use your settings. I'm even in a book group that meets on Facebook.
It is a little self-centered, but people are inherently self-focused. It's a survival mechanism. You don't have to be my "friend" if you don't want to. If you DO want to know what's going on in my life or what I've been thinking about, all you have to do is hop on my Facebook, follow the links to our blogs or website or just send me a quick note. I post a lot of pics because so many of our peeps are out of town and we're too broke to send real pictures. Also- it makes me happy to see them. Some of the content is truly obnoxious, but I've just reconnected with some old friends and they might want a quick synopsis of my life in top-ten form. It's a good way to fill in the gaps of years that have been lost. Which is why the article, Facebook is For Old Fogies is so funny to me. And right on.
I am accomplishing something important. Moms are inherently lonely and prone to depression (not this one, anymore- praise God). We need a place to connect so we don't feel isolated. It's great to get out once or twice a month for a play-date, but that's not really enough time to fuel a deep friendship. Facebook (and other social networking sites) allow you to fill in the time gaps between conversations. You can skip over all the "what did you do for Christmas?" and "what is your husband's name, again?" because you read all that on Facebook.
There are many other great things about Facebook: you can share articles and ideas, network, promote yourself and your business, and, my personal favorite, hold yourself accountable. If you don't want pictures of yourself, drunk, to show up on Facebook, maybe you shouldn't be going out to the bars after work. Duh. Same reasoning with infidelity or anything else. How many nasty and awkward conversations have I avoided in real-life by recognizing blatant political differences on someone's Facebook page? I have a foot-in-mouth problem, and Facebook helps me think now, act later.
The world is a dangerous place. The truth is that I'm terrified of my daughter reaching that age. I'll be one of those annoying parents who reads everything she writes to everyone, knows all her logins and always keeps the computer in the living room. But I'll also give her some chances to build trust with me and to make good decisions for herself. I don't think it's responsible for people to let their 12 year-old kids cruise unchaperoned ANYWHERE, let alone online. Facebook is not the most dangerous place kids could be- you can help set their privacy settings, control who sees their content and whose content they see, etc. It's more structured than a lot of places online, including many chatrooms in seemingly innocent places.

Final thoughts: It's fun. It's free. It's better than MySpace (which I never joined because it always felt a little creepy to me). I really do cruise through my friends and check in on them now and then. I'm not constantly reading everyone's pages, but sometimes (because God is cool like this) someone will come to mind. I hop on their page, check in, pray for them and move on. I'm a much better friend with Facebook than I could ever be on my own. My best friendships exist outside of cyberspace. But I still check in on them on Facebook.

Embracing the terrific two's

2009-01-15T08:49:00.001-08:00

Now that June is almost 2 1/2 we definitely have our moments of grace and beauty alternating with moments of whining, screaming and tears. My efforts this winter to put the "stay-at-home" back into "stay-at-home-mom" have brought some success. Much of that success is due to a few good mommy friends, some who live in my neighborhood and allow me to stay home while still having contact with humans (though the deer are charming, the chickens are obnoxious at best). I have made some amazing discoveries recently which must first be prefaced with the knowledge that Matt and I loosely practice Attachment Parenting (AP). Attachment Parenting International defines it simply as this: "The essence of Attachment Parenting is about forming and nurturing strong connections between parents and their children. Attachment Parenting challenges us as parents to treat our children with kindness, respect and dignity, and to model in our interactions with them the way we'd like them to interact with others."-API We all practice some part of this gentle approach, some embrace it more than others. I won't expose you to the "8 Principles" right now- perhaps a blog for another day.

So, yesterday June was having a difficult morning, lots of tears, recovering from being sick, generally having a hard time. And I had an agenda. Must clean the kitchen (disaster!), sweep and pick up the main living spaces. *sigh* Do I plop her in front of another Dora video (I really try not to do that, but it happens!) or do I get creative? Tori is creative, if nothing else. So, I put her in the sling, on my back, put on some worship music and got to work washing dishes. She loved it! I loved it. The counterweight eased the discomfort of leaning over the sink. Now, hang on, here's the really genius part. I gave her a little hand-held massager that I put in Matt's stocking this year. "Here, honey- push the silver button. Ooooh...yes! Put it on mommy's neck! This is fun!" It was one of the more pleasurable house-keeping mornings I've had.

Another great discovery I made is that it's ok to do what feels right for your family. This may sound simple, but oh, friends, it is not! June and I still practice breastfeeding. It allows us a few moments out of the day to stop, connect and relax for a moment. Breastfeeding a toddler is an incredibly sweet thing. Nevertheless, I recently decided that I needed to wean June. I realized later, of course, that this was primarily pressure from "the world" and even myself not wanting to seem "weird" or "undisciplined" to non-AP friends. The truth is that it works for us. The other truth is that my friends are amazing and lovely. I always assumed that my friends fell into two categories: 1) stop breastfeeding as soon as possible or 2) let the child decide when you stop. After days of tears and emotional instability (on my part!) and confusion, sadness and lethargy (on June's part), I decided this was a ridiculous endeavor. And my amazing friends offered their support through the process, regardless of their own parenting practices. It turns out that none of my friends live on extreme ends of my spectrum. Thank God for diversity in our friendships and our lives. Without those threads of different colors, our lives would weave one boring tapestry.

Who needs New Year's resolutions with moments like these? Yet this year I've committed to be intentional with my time, connect to each moment as I am in it, and always be available to the person who is standing right in front of me. Even if I'm looking in a mirror. Through it all I will anchor to real HOPE rather than myself or others and will worship my Creator, regardless of my circumstance.

Unexpected

2008-12-17T14:26:00.000-08:00

After Jesus was born and the visiting guests, angels and prophets had spoken their blessings, the Bible tells us that "Mary took all these things and pondered them in her heart." Allow me translate that for you: "Mary took all these things, hefted them onto her own shoulders, cried her eyes out for a few days, then finally gave it over to God. Only after that did she begin to understand His amazing plan." I have no doubt in my mind that Mary had some sort of expectation about how the birth of her son was supposed to look. Even though she was somewhat outcast because of her pre-marital pregnancy, this girl had ideas. She had probably seen dozens of births in her own family and knew exactly what she wanted. Who the midwife was, what her mother and sisters would do, how the room would look at the moment she pushed the baby out, the smell of incense in the air, the quiet light of oil lamps.

Surprise. The baby is born far away from home in a dark, dank cave with a bunch of animals standing around watching, the least of which is her soon-to-be-husband who has never even seen her naked, let alone in the "beautiful" moment of birthing a baby (which men didn't usually participate in, anyway). All new moms understand the drive to cleanliness in the weeks before the baby comes. All of Mary's nesting was useless. I'm guessing the cleanliness of the stable wasn't up to the usual Birthing Unit standard. The Bible doesn't tell us if she had any help from local women, but you can bet she felt pretty alone without her own support network there.

So, there she sits. Staring at this swaddled thing in her arms. Every mom has been there, we all know the feeling: "Now what?" Next thing you know a pile of shepherds appear (think "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever). I'm pretty sure the last thing Mary wanted to see just then was a bunch of unknown, smelly guys with sheep in tow. It's not quite the glowing picture we're used to imagining, is it? Eight days later they have the baby circumcised and receive some strange words from the local prophet contingent. Then, there's a lull for 2 years when Mary and Joseph begin to wonder what they're supposed to do. No angels. No visions. No dreams. Did we miss a road sign? Suddenly, three wise men show up with a caravan and the equivelent of hundreds of thousands of dollars in gifts. God finally sends a dream: "This gift is so you can flee to Egypt." Hmm...let's travel 2,000 miles by donkey with a 2 year old. Sounds great. "I don't care if he's the son of God, woman- he has to keep up with the donkey if he's not going to ride..." "Well, if you hadn't taken that detour back in Sinai, we'd probably be there by now..."

Ok- so back to the story at hand. Mary took all of these things and pondered them in her heart. She cried. She yelled and screamed. She kicked and punched and wailed. She was heartbroken that she couldn't give her amazing child the birthing experience he deserved. Or what she thought he deserved. But after she had a chance to sit back and see it in hindsight, she began to understand. It had to be this way to fulfill the prophesies. God's plan was perfect. Not only were prophesies fulfilled about where, how, and when the birth would occur (this is obviously a huge topic for another time-see below), but the story was written in a way that would make it irresistible to anyone who was drawn to Jesus:

Children love the animals in the story as well as the baby and the angelic choir
Young people love the idea of the adventure- traveling to Egypt! Oh the joy of gifts from far-away lands and wicked kings wreaking havoc.
Single moms love it that Mary was one of them.
Women appreciate that the son of God came from a woman (i.e. not born out of some god's head)
Men love it because even the lowliest shepherd has a place of honor in the story and they appreciate Joseph's integrity, humility, and obvious trust and devotion to his young bride (women like that, too).

It is so obvious to me that God wrote the story of His grace for each of us. And He wrote it in such an unexpected way that he fooled the enemy of our souls. Satan missed the whole thing unfolding right in front of his face.

So. Who am I to mourn the loss of an experience? Who am I to concern myself with small details that don't go the way I expect? God has a plan that is bigger than my shortsighted vision. I'm so glad the author stopped to tell us that Mary pondered these things. It reminds me to stop and look back once in awhile. What is God doing in this moment? What did I miss because I was caught up in my own web of intention? How can I tune into God's frequency? He gave His own son so we could draw near His throne of grace, perfectly clean and pure. He loves us. Passionately.

Isaiah 7:14 "Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel."

Immanuel means "God with us." God- tabernacled among us, living in our midst, living, breathing, flesh, born of woman. Right here. Right now. Jesus is the fulfillment of everything we've hoped, dreamed, and practiced for.

Some of the Prophetic Fulfillments of Jesus of Nazareth:

He would be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14 / Matthew 1:21-23; Luke 1:26-35)
He would be born in Bethlehem (Micah 5:2 / Matthew 2:1; Luke 2:4-7)
He would be heralded by a messenger of the Lord (John the Baptist) (Isaiah 40:3-5; Malachi 3:1 / Matthew 3:1-3; 11:10; Mark 1:2-3; Luke 7:27)
He would perform miracles (Isaiah 35:5-6; Matthew 9:35, and throughout the gospels)
He would preach good news (Isaiah 61:1-2 / Luke 4:14-21)
He would first present himself as king 173,880 days from the decree to rebuild Jerusalem (Daniel 9:25 / Matthew 21:4-9; Mark 11:1-10; Luke 19:29-38)
He would enter Jerusalem as king riding a donkey (Zechariah 9:9 / Matthew 21:4-9; Mark 11:1-10; Luke 19:29-38)
He would die a humiliating and painful death (Psalm 22; Isaiah 53 / Matthew 27; Mark 15; Luke 23; John 19)
His hands and feet would be pierced (Psalm 22:16; / Crucifixion accounts of Matthew 27; Mark 15; Luke 23; John 19)
His executioners would cast lots for his clothing (Psalm 22:18; John 19:23-24)
None of his bones would be broken in his execution (Psalm 34:20; John 19:32-36)
His side would be pierced (Zechariah 12:10; John 19:34-37)
He would die with the wicked and be buried in a rich man's tomb (Isaiah 53:9; Matthew 27:57-60)

The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name

2008-11-12T22:52:00.000-08:00

I'm about to confess something rather unexpected. You who know me well would have been surprised to discover me hunched in the corner of the children's section at Barnes and Noble tonight with my scarf pulled up around my face. As clandestine as I felt, I was on the search for something I couldn't find through my beloved Barefoot Books. I was on a mission to browse the Christian books for a Bible for June. Of course, Barefoot Books doesn't sell Christian books (yet!) and certainly not Bibles. They also distinctly disapprove of the "big box" bookstores like B&N and so do I. HOWEVER, all that aside...I found the book I was looking for. If I had browsed online I'm sure I would have found it as well, but I needed to touch it and flip pages as would any good bibliophile. The unfortunate truth is that there are many poorly written and poorly illustrated Christian books for children. The fortunate truth is that this book is not one of them. The Jesus Storybook Bible: Every Story Whispers His Name is written by Sally Lloyd Jones, an award-winning British author who has a way of explaining difficult Biblical concepts in a way that any two year old or reluctant theologian could understand. Not only that, but it is illustrated by the amazing Jago, who has also illustrated for Barefoot Books. This book was published over a year ago, so I'm sure I'm a little late on the blog-train, but I couldn't resist sharing this with you!

The Jesus Storybook Bible tells more than stories or history, it tells the underlying purpose of every page of God's word: Jesus. Jones relates every story, from creation to revelation, to Jesus Christ. At the end of the story of the fall of man she writes: "most stories would now be at THE END... But not this one..." continuing on to tell the promise that God lays out in Genesis 3:15 that a Redeemer would come who would crush the evil that so easily entangled Adam and Eve (and all of us).

Jago's artwork reflects the fantastical quality of Jones' stories. Fun, colorful (dare I say "whimsical?") and ethnically appropriate (one of my BIG pet peeves with Christian children's books), my two year old will easily sit through a full page of narrative with one of his pictures in front of her to spark her imagination.

I had to share this with you all, my faithful blog-readers. While you consider all the great Barefoot Books you want to buy for your kids, don't forget about the greatest Book of all.

Change is in the air-

2008-11-04T21:44:00.001-08:00

All across the blogosphere, people are furiously typing, impassioned by a speech that may be the best I will ever hear in my lifetime. Some people are weeping in frustration, others are elated with hope, a few are just happy to get back to real life. I'm sitting here, in a pool of tears and soap bubbles; I clean when I'm emotional- you should see my kitchen...

I'm moved by the idea that a man whose parents could not sit together on the bus or even go to the same school, could be President of this country. I'm amazed that the year which marks the 40 year anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination could also be the year we see racism turned on it's head in The United States. I'm moved mostly by the idea that people in this nation still believe that hope and passion truly are the forces that move us towards our loftiest goals. So much of our rhetoric in recent years has been garbage- spin doctoring, dog wagging, pork barrels, subtle twisting of truths that become unrecognizable, greed, outright puppetry... somewhere in the midst of all that, a man was able to circumvent Washington politics and resurrect a vision that we all wanted to believe was still out there.

Ultimately, my hope is in God. But I believe God can work through Barack Obama to:

1) Funnel money towards helping people in need- health care, social services, financial crisis management

2) Raise awareness for social injustices across the world- including religious persecution, race, gender, etc.

3) Unite generations broken by politics and dischordant ideals

4) Remind us all to live with intention and integrity in our lives, unspoiled by the deep brokeness surrounding us, but moved by compassion to change it

I'm proud that my daughter is part of this generation. I'm sure there will be regrets, setbacks and disappointments. But right now, in this moment, I'm actually proud to be an American. And those words are rarely, if ever, spoken by me.

Dangerous Kids

2008-10-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

It's tough raising a girl in today's world... there are so many voices in our kids' heads: magazines, tv, music, internet, not to mention the things you learn the other kids. My plan isn't to shelter my daughter, it's to make her dangerous to the status quo. I'm not talking about raising a rebel, here, but about raising a woman full of determination, strength, courage and self-love. What would happen if we raised our kids to be dangerous? How can we disassemble the norms that so easily permeate our parenting, plans and potential?

Matt and I talk about this a lot. We've made a conscious effort to reduce our family's cultural absorption levels. We don't have television. We don't let June watch "movies," other than a few educational videos. We don't buy fast food or expose ourselves to other junk food (mom and dad sometimes sneak some ice cream or chips and a movie at night- that's part of the cheap date segment I'll write later). We insist on using polite words and displaying gentleness towards each other. We don't spend excessive time shopping or focused on material possession. Our computer is in a family area and only harbors family-friendly content. Most important, though, we pray for June's purity and her heart. We pray for her decision making skills and we pray that she will be a leader, not a follower.

I've noticed since I've become a stay-at-home mom that I've become very sensitive to the world around me. R-rated movies are completely unwatchable. Even tv ads have become grating and disturbing to me. We would love to be able to watch football, but it's not worth it for everything that comes with it. These choices are hard, and every family has to weigh them against how they feel they are being called to live. I intentionally choose everyday to make parenting an important piece of my life mission. I'm glad so many of you out there do, too. We all need the right kind of community that will encourage us to do what's best for our kids and to have fun in the process. So...let's go!

Toddler Sized Faith

2008-09-19T21:44:00.000-07:00

June is at such a fun stage right now. By fun I mean wildly unpredictable. Her verbal skills are very good for a two year old. She speaks in complete sentences and will repeat anything just to hear herself say it. Unfortunately, not everyone speaks her toddler-lingo. She's been having trouble with hitting other kids (and hitting Mommy and Daddy). It's not malicious, I think she's just exploring her world in a physical way when she feels she's not being understood. She's also developed an amazing ability to completely ignore me when I'm talking to her. So...we've adopted a new mantra at our house: "Listen with your ears, use your words, be gentle with your hands."

Matt and I were talking tonight about some ways that God is challenging us in our lives, right now. It occured to us that God may have the same mantra for us. "Tori and Matt, are you listening to what I'm telling you? Are you talking to me about your needs, desires, fears? Are you loving and cherishing others as gently as I love you?" The truth that I may be a spiritual two-year old is alarming but completely hilarious to me. I knew I'd learn a lot about myself by becoming a mother, but I wasn't prepared for how much I would learn about God. His desire is for us to grow up, but not too fast. I wouldn't be upset with June because she can't ride a bicycle, or cook her own breakfast. God isn't upset with us, either. He's just watching, waiting, gently reminding. Usually I'm good with the listening, but sometimes I need a time-out, too. In the meantime, God loves the stage I'm in. The innocence, the trust, the total dependence. I love the stage I'm in too, but I want to keep growing up, just like June. Tonight she sat in a big chair at the table and ate with a fork. She drank her water from a "big girl" cup and participated in our conversation. She's growing up, but God is teaching me to enjoy each moment of each day I have with her. These years are precious to me, and to Him.

Just Dance!

2008-09-09T21:03:00.000-07:00

Matthew Harding may be old news, but this updated version of his video startles me every time I watch it. Is it so impossible to believe that we are all the same, regardless of race, culture and age? I'm suddenly reminded that love is strong enough to conquer fear, that it's still possible to make the world a better place than I found it, that an individual can make a difference. Matthew Harding's little project stirs something deep inside me where hope grows.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

June's Second Birthday!

2008-08-19T14:41:00.000-07:00

Wow, what a crazy month! Anyone who knows us knows that August is the one month of our year to be dreaded, anticipated and then lived out with wild abandon. Earlier this month we got to visit Matt's family for a few days in Sweet Home, at Heather's annual August shindig. From there, we headed up to Vancouver for my step-brother's wedding. After that we visited with my family in LaCenter, WA, drove back to Portland for the night, and returned home in one piece on Monday.

August was the month we celebrated Matthew's 31st birthday, my mom's 60th birthday, Matt's brother's birthday, his parents' anniversary, and my brother-in-law Jon's birthday. This month we also launched our Barefoot Books business (thank you, everyone, for your support!) and of course, June turned 2. Whew. That almost beats out last year when I threw a surprise birthday party for Matthew and June within days of moving into our new house! Here are some pictures...you can always go to Facebook or Picasa to view more photos. Enjoy!

June and Daddy playing with balloons-

The all-too-rare June and Mommy picture-

Birthday dinner with Daddy and Mommy and a funny hat-

June with Aunt Heather and June's new tea set! Thank you Aunt Heather!

just Grandma and me...

June and Grandma share a cracker

Laughing with Grandma and Grandpa

blowing out birthday candles with Daddy (and cousin Elizabeth)-

opening a present from Grandma and Grandpa with VERY cool wrapping paper!

Here is June...hiding in the pillows (a favorite pasttime while naked) sorry it's sideways.

I must end this blog entry with an apology to my family- our memory card only holds a few photos and we ran out of space before we reached the Washingtonians...so, hopefully we'll gather photos from far afield and complete the collection, soon. Blessings to you all!

Barefoot at Last!

2008-07-27T20:05:00.000-07:00

There's something magical about this moment: June comes running over to me (she never walks anywhere if she can help it) with a book in hand and says, "Mommy, read a book! Couch! Sit down!" Fortunately, I don't need to be dosed with this moment, I get the real thing, in technicolor, all day long. I can't define being a stay-at-home mom as a job for one very important reason: I am not putting out, I'm taking in. This life-work fuels me in a way I never expected.

Here's a great section from David Guterson in "Family Matters: Why Homeschooling Makes Sense":

"In fact, 'I can't wait for school to start again because the kids have been driving me crazy all summer!' is a common complaint in this country. We have even made advertisements out of it: the harried mother who at last gets them out the door with their lunches, books, and rubber rain slickers, then settles into her exotic coffee or a bubble bath and romance novel. What is she doing but feeding herself with food she does not get from her children--food that cannot stick to her bones any more than bath water does? If things go far enough she will gradually learn to treat herself as the neediest child in the house, buying herself toys and then playing with them in various corners of the known universe (men are more prone to this than women): the windsurfing here, parasailing there, snorkeling in the tropics while the children attend summer camp, relaxed and at peace while the children are not around, fretful and irritated when they return. She has not learned how to take sustenance from them, is riven by doubts about herself as a mother, cannot understand why she prefers their absence, feels relief when they head for the school bus. The seven-hour respite school provides is in reality a hole she cannot climb from."

Needless to say, one of my many goals as a human being is to foster a deeper connection with my daughter. I want to be available when the crazy-haired junior goddess of the universe comes to me with book in hand. And I want her to have good books to choose from. This is a big reason why Matthew and I have embarked on our latest obsession (ok- it's my obsession, he just plays along). We are now independent booksellers/stallholders of Barefoot Books, a children's publishing company based out of Cambridge, MA and Bath, England. I'll let the video speak about why Barefoot is more than just a home business for us. In the meantime, visit our website, check out our new business blog: Barefoot Stories and cheer us on as we have some fun, together!

Three Pigs

2008-07-02T13:59:00.000-07:00

“T’ree pigs, mommy! T’ree pigs!” comes the muffled toddler voice from deep within her cushioned crib. The books are read, the water‘s drunk, and I’ve hugged and kissed every animal in her bed. Now it‘s time for a story. The three pigs came to me one night when we were both exhausted. Just singing wasn’t doing it, so I said, “ok, honey, mommy’s going to tell you a story. Once upon a time there were three pigs named Oink and Oink-Oink and Oink-Oink-Oink.” She listened to every word.

The story started with my grandfather, the youngest of several boys raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere. I don’t remember anyone telling stories like Grandpa; his pigs had attitude, they even had names. Oink (was real smart), Oink-Oink (had sharp eyes) and Oink-Oink-Oink (wasn’t real bright, but was really good when it came to understanding people). Those pigs did everything from saving their Uncle H.H. Hog from cattle rustlers, to having obnoxious, distant relatives visit on Thanksgiving day. It was always the same basic premise, and they always worked together to foil the wolf‘s plan, but it was usually the least likely candidate, Oink-Oink-Oink, who wound up saving the day.

Grandpa’s stories had side-stories, too. There was a deaf sheriff the pigs always called when they got in trouble with the wolf, then he had to call his deputy to come so he could get any idea of what was actually happening. It turned out the Big Bad Wolf had put peanut butter in the sheriff’s ears once when they were younger, as a prank, and that was why he couldn’t hear. The best part about Grandpa’s stories, besides crazy pranks involving peanut butter, was that they always had a moral. Grandpa wasn’t satisfied to just have the wolf eat the pigs. He was a preacher, and a good one. At the end of every story somebody told the Big Bad Wolf about Jesus, and the pigs extended some kind of grace to the one that perpetually tries to gobble them up. In one story, the Big Bad Wolf has a religious experience in prison, recalls the incident with the peanut butter, and pays to have the Sheriff’s ears cleaned out. “Oh boys,” the wolf tells the pigs, “I’m not a bad wolf anymore, you can just call me Mr. Wolf, now.”

Back to my toddler in the crib…I tell her about the pigs and how they built their houses. The middle piece is familiar:
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”
“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin (I‘m not letting you in!)”
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!“
And he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in.
At the end of the story I find myself hesitating. I know it’s silly, but I cannot let the wolf gobble up those pigs. So, my pigs find themselves looking out the window of Oink’s brick house, feeling sorry for poor Big Bad who is thirsty, tired and hungry.
The pig brothers open the door, with the latch still on, and say,
“Um, excuse me, Mr. Wolf?”
“What?”
“Would you like to come in for some water? And maybe some soup? You look awfully tired and hungry and thirsty. Just promise not to eat us up and we’ll let you in.”
“Well, ok., that sounds pretty good!”
And they all live happily ever after. And I’m satisfied that my daughter’s moral compass is intact.

There will be many other great pig stories in my daughter’s future. This doesn’t, however, mean an end to the perpetual bedtime routine. I hear the muffled voice, again:
“Sing, mommy, sing!”

A Standing Memorial

2008-05-05T14:02:00.000-07:00

Friends and Family- The past few years have been full of incredible blessing and we've decided to share our story in full so each of you can enjoy what God is doing.

Our story begins with two young people refusing the life we were given. We were chronic pot smokers, drinkers, cigarette-smoking, party animals. I was into Goddess-worship and anything else that I knew would make God mad. Matt and I were both raised in good Christian homes, and though we each had heartbreak, and lots of anger, our lives were good. Matt lost his twin sister to a brain tumor in 1990 and my parents divorced when I was younger, leading to major emotional instability (depression, suicide). In college we met and a few years later were reunited and fell in love at first sight. We see in hindsight that God manufactured that moment. We lived together for a few years before a man at Matt’s work relentlessly pursued him and brought him back to the Lord. I came along later, just on the cusp of giving up everything that was good in my life because of my pride and rebellion. We took a few months apart to reevaluate what God wanted for us and decided to get married. We lived celibate for nine months before our wedding day and God honored our choice to put Him first in our lives, freeing us from the party-life.

We prayed and decided that God was calling us to Bend, both for our spiritual and emotional health. The fresh start we sought led us to Westside Church and jobs at Mt. Bachelor. Soon after moving here, God healed me of my ongoing struggles with depression. One day I heard God call me to be healed, so I went to the prayer team after church and they prayed for me. I spoke against the strongholds of depression, and a few others, and the burden was lifted. Forever. I can honestly say I've never relapsed.

About a year later we took a huge step of faith. We gave our only car to a cousin in need, one who would most likely never repay us. The avalanche of blessings began. Matt’s employer (a Westsider) loaned us a vehicle. We got pregnant and soon after Westside Church gave us a car. We stepped out of our comfort zone and took the MTI (Ministry Training Institute- http://www.ministrytraining.org/) class at Westside, learning more about our freedom in Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit.

During this time, I was uninsurable because of my “pre-existing condition” of pregnancy, but a month before our baby was born, God led us to an insurance agent (we found out later he goes to Westside) who got us into a state program. We had been planning a midwife assisted home-birth, so didn’t think we’d need the insurance, but God told us to do it anyway. Turns out June had to come via emergency c-section, while I was under full anesthesia. Juniper Grace and I were in the hospital for a week, though nothing was found wrong with her at all (I had an unforeseeable infection). God spared both our lives, and our financial lives through our last-minute health insurance coverage. The brokenness that came from that birthing experience changed us, teaching us that faith is real and God is bigger than anything we face. Also, that we really need to do exactly what he tells us to do! God put a desire in my heart to stay home and be a mom, which meant decreasing our income by more than half. “Ok, God,” we said, “You’re the miracle worker. Show us what You want to do.” In 2007, the first full year of June’s life, we received over $10,000 in gifts from unexpected inheritance money to friends and family just plain giving us cash, expecting nothing in return. The cousin to whom we gave the car sent us $500. That’s more than we'd paid for it. A “real job” dropped into our laps (from a Westsider) so Matthew could work full time, year round, with paid family insurance. At the same time, we were handed an opportunity to rent a house for exactly the amount we could afford, less than we‘d been paying for our apartment. Our free car recently died and we were given another by friends (again, at Westside). I can’t count the times money mysteriously appeared in our checkbook, or a friend offered a few hours of work that would just cover a bill needing to be paid.

Without a doubt, I can say that God has called us to a life of simplicity and one of being set apart from the world's values. I could write a book about our journey on that path, but I’ll just say that it is an incredible way to learn about God’s favor, what faith in action really looks like, and how to live within your means. We recently discovered that after much prayer, mediation and (some) worrying, God has made us financially free. This is not what I thought it would look like, we don’t make more money or have less financial responsibility, but we are free. We are no longer “needy,” we are simply very blessed, living as the Levites did, owning nothing, serving God daily, and walking closely with Him. Our house, car, child and job are all manna from heaven! If I had to choose between the life we have and one with more worldly success, there is no doubt in my mind I’d choose this path of faith. So, be encouraged out there, if you’re barely making it. God is doing an incredibly amazing work in you. But it will be humbling, sometimes painful, and always unexpected in the way He will choose to do that work. I didn't share all the places we fell short, ignored God's voice and went our own way. These are setbacks, but He uses them for His purpose.

This is our testimony to you, and our memorial to where we have been. This is a door opening to huge breakthrough in the year to come. And this is a thank you to a church that is more than walls and chairs. You pray, you give and you fight hard. You are a battleship, not a cruise ship, and we’re here to testify to that.

late nights with God

2008-04-02T00:59:00.000-07:00

Fredrick Nietzsche once wrote: “Without music, life would be a mistake.... I would only believe in a God who knew how to dance.” This is a sad statement written by the same guy who said "God is dead." I can't help but think Nietzsche wasn't paying attention.

When examining the heart of God, you don't have to go much farther than King David (1 Samuel, 2 Samuel). The guy has more written about him than just about anybody in the Old Testament. Dave was called "a man after God's own heart." He grew up the youngest of a bunch of boys, relegated to tending sheep, spending long weeks alone under the stars with only a harp to keep him company (and the sheep- but they aren't much for conversation). You have to believe that a kid like that spent some time talking to God and hearing God talk back in the big dark silence. Little Dave wasn't afraid of anything because he knew God was bigger. Sure, he played the harp. He sang. He danced. He wrote music. He loved women (and they loved him). But he also killed lions and giants and bears (oh my). He was a fierce warrior who, at a very young age, was put in charge of the entire army of Israel. Oh yeah, and he was anointed King when he was still a child but didn't get to realize the dream until many years later after betrayal, violence, and death should have caught up with him. David was inspired, broken, reignited, and molded until his heart looked a lot like God's.

Did Nietzsche understand the passion, the tenderness and the beauty of God's heart? I don't know, but David did. Did Nietzsche know that God created him to worship? To sing and dance unabashed under the stars, a tender tango between creator and clay? I don't know. I just hope he has a chance to meet David before he has to stand before the God who slays giants.

How do we teach our daughter to hear the drum beat of God's heart that calls her to the great adventure for her life? How will she know she can stand before giants with the strength of her God beside her? We have to teach her to kneel in the silence, so she can hear God, then we have to teach her to dance.

Psalm 18:28-36

*written by a man who knew God and wasn't scared to dance

You light my lamp; the Lord my God illumines my darkness. For by You I can run upon a troop; and by my God I can leap over a wall. As for God, His way is blameless; the word of the Lord is tried; He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him. For who is God, but the Lord? And who is a rock, except our God, the God who girds me with strength and makes my way blameless? He makes my feet like hinds' feet, And sets me upon my high places. He trains my hands for battle, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You have also given me the shield of Your salvation, and Your right hand upholds me; Your gentleness makes me great. You enlarge my steps under me, And my feet have not slipped.

Finding The Good

2008-02-18T21:05:00.000-08:00

I can't deny it, we do watch a bit of T.V. here at our house. We don't actually have T.V., per se, but we do borrow a lot of videos from the library. Our favorite videos these days are the "Signing Time" video series. If you don't know what this is, you really have to go check out the website (listed under my Parenting Links).

The woman who started "Signing Time" is a huge inspiration to me. Rachel came from a musical family and was a working folk-singer when she and her husband, Aaron, discovered that their one year old daughter, Leah, was deaf. Rather than take this as a total blow to everything their life was supposed to mean, Rachel and Aaron threw all their energy into learning American Sign Language (ASL). Not only did Rachel learn ASL, but she and her sister embarked on a mission to teach it to other families in an informative, exciting way. Using musical skill and production saavy, the sisters created a production company and a fantastic venue for learning ASL using music, dialogue, and actual shots of children signing. "Signing Time" became a national phenomenon, with added emphasis by research that came out around the same time touting the benefits of signing for hearing children as well.

The story doesn't end there: Just as "Signing Time" was beginning production, Rachel and Aaron had their second daughter, born prematurely with spina bifida and hydrocephalus. Though it was possible that she would never be able to sign (because of stiffness in her fingers), the couple was undetered in their dreams for their youngest daughter. Today, Lucy signs with her big sister and goes to a mainstream school. Leah is well adjusted (famous, even!), having learned to "talk" when she was only a year old.

June and I started learning signs (food, drink, milk, more, all done) when she was about 6 months old. She didn't pick up on it right away, but with the help of these videos and lots of practice (mostly for Mommy), she knows about 100 signs (my favorite is "elephant"). I love it that we have our own language we can use in public, whether surrounded by chaos or by silence. June has excellent verbal skills (research says signing kids have an earlier understanding of vocabulary and the importance of communication) and more than once we've stopped a melt-down by utilizing signs when her spoken words were unclear to me. There was a recent article in the New York Times online about helping toddlers avoid tantrums. The article ultimately surmised that the adult should get down on the child's level, talk to them by repeating their own words back to them, and let the child express what they need to say, knowing they are being heard. Hmm...isn't that just Basic Communication, 101? So...signing helps. Using simple phrases in language she can use and understand, she speaks. I hear.

In the meantime, I'm inspired by Rachel as a mother. Instead of letting a hard situation break apart her family, she allowed her life to change around her child's needs. Instead of putting her dreams first, she put a vision of her child's future first. As a result, this woman has inspired millions of people and opened a door to communication and understanding with an often marginalized culture. We have a couple ASL interpreters at our church that sign for the 9 am service on Sunday morning. Maybe someday that will be June up there, using her second language. At the very least, she'll be able to share a few phrases in a foreign language with someone who just needs to be heard.

I'll end this post with one of Rachel Coleman's songs. I cry when I hear the acoustic version:

The Good by Rachel deAzevedo Coleman
(dedicated to her husband, Aaron)

It was you and me and the whole world right before us
I couldn’t wait to start
I saw you and dreams just like everyone before us
We thought we knew what we got

And then one day I thought it slipped away
And I looked to my hands to hold on
And then one day all my fear slipped away
And my hands did so much more

So maybe we won’t find easy
But, baby, we’ve found the good
No, maybe we won’t find easy
But, baby, we’ve found the good!

It was you and me and a new world right before us
I was so scared to start
I saw you and dreams just like everyone before us
But how did they move so far?

And then one day I thought it slipped away
And I looked to my hands to hold you
And then one day all my fear slipped away
And my hands did so much more

So maybe we won’t find easy
But, baby, we’ve found the good
Maybe we won’t find easy
But, baby, we’ve found the good!

Signing Time ©2004 All rights reserved. All songs Written by Rachel de Azevedo Coleman. © 2004 Two Little Hands Productions, LLC
P.O. Box 581037 Salt Lake City, UT 84158 • tel: 801.533.0444 • fax: 801.880.5151 • sales@signingtime.com

Waiting for a knight in shining armor

2008-01-22T14:41:00.000-08:00

I plan to teach my daughter to believe in the knight on a white horse, destined to carry her away from all this to a land far away where she'll be a princess and live happily ever after.

I plan to teach her this, because it's true.

The deal is, she may have to wait a long time to see this man. She's in an engagement period and she has to be patient, to save herself for him, to love no one more than him, and to pledge to love him all her life. While she's waiting for him, he may ask her to do some hard things, like fight for him. The good news is he's already given her a sword, a shield, and a full suit of armor. Don't worry, he won't put her in any situation alone, he has a whole army at his disposal that helps her fight, comes alongside her, before her and after her. It's a pledge of her passion and her desire to have him.

He's a great guy, as princes go. He's very powerful, but the best type of man: fearless and tenderhearted at the same time. He's a healer, a public speaker, an educated man, and a hard-worker, not to mention his princely qualities. He's also generous, kind, gentle, passionate and has a great sense of humor. His dad is even better. The king has already adopted my daughter as his very own! He treats her just like his own child.

The only thing that could mess this up is if she gets tired of waiting for her prince...I really hope she doesn't. He picked her out especially for himself before she knew him. He's been watching her from afar, admiring, loving, waiting for her. It's one of those great scenarios where he's totally in love with her, she can't imagine a prince could love her like that, then they get to live happily ever after. He's even building her a house, with room for everyone she loves and cares about, though hopefully she'll be willing to go to him even if no one goes with her. But who wouldn't want to be with a guy like that?

It gets better...this prince is a great adventurer and plans to take my daughter to some truly amazing places, from the hightest mountain tops to the depths of the deepest ocean to the beautiful garden he built just for the two of them to share. There's a lot to be learned from a guy like that.

I really hope she waits. I'm glad I'm waiting. I hope you're waiting, too.

Here's a paragraph from one of his love-letters:

"You've captured my heart, dear friend. You looked at me, and I fell in love. One look my way and I was hopelessly in love! How beautiful your love, dear, dear friend— far more pleasing than a fine, rare wine, your fragrance more exotic than select spices."-J (SOS 4:9-10)

Things will be great in 2008

2008-01-04T13:26:00.000-08:00

Things will be great, in 2008, in spite of the impending election. This begs the question: Since when was something eleven months away considered "impending"? Elections. Chalk up another point for bipartisanship. Sorry, back to family news...

We survived the holidays and had a ton of fun. This is the first year since we've been married that Matthew and I have been able to celebrate Christmas with family, thanks to Mt. Bachelor. Needless to say, we sort of overdid it.

The holiday highlight for June was definitely chasing all her cousins, second-cousins, and step-second-cousins-twice-removed around Grandma and Grandpa Maurer's house. She also enjoyed the abundance of Christmas sparkle you always find there. The highlight for Mommy and Daddy was the snowboarding we've been able to enjoy together the past few weeks. Mommy got a "sweet" coat thanks to Daddy's Christmas bonus (thank you Arnold Irrigation!). She now gets gazes from her husband on the chairlift that say, "hey beautiful" instead of "wow, honey, we need to get you a new coat."

Having recovered from a short, busy holiday, we raise our heads above the fog and find that the snow has melted (for now), life is moving again, and Matthew is back at work. The upside of rain and wind is the vocabulary potential for our dear little sponge. Her latest words include: puddle, umbrella, wind, ski, whisper and yell. Sign language is popular at our house and June knows about 25 words including bunny/rabbit, hug, cold, help, share, sit, eat, drink, MILK (her favorite), moose and cat (this one is adorable). The hardest thing about sign-language is that Mommy and Daddy have to keep up with the learning curve.

Another highlight? June's new favorite word: Elmo. I have no one to blame for this but myself. Sesame Street has about 200 video clips online and a hefty portion of them involve Elmo, everyone's favorite, furry friend. Side note: I think it's hilarious that Elmo is actually a big burly guy who looks more like a bouncer than a preschooler. Maybe this is why Elmo flirts so much with the ladies who come to visit Sesame Street (seriously, watch him carefully next time). Women everywhere, including my daughter, are drawn to Elmo's soft vulnerability and cheerful attitude. June asks for Elmo constantly. In fact, Elmo may be more popular at our house than Noah. But, that is a story for another time involving a sweet 9 year old who has stolen my daughter's heart.

For now, we live each day with the hope of glory, and, like our new favorite bumper sticker says (it may appear soon on a primer-gray 1980's Nissan Maxima near you), we are "Dopeless Hope Fiends" and loving every minute.

This entry is a lot like my holiday season; disjointed, fun and family-oriented. I can live with that. What have you been up to, family and friends? Please drop us a line and let us know.

What I love about Christmas

2007-12-21T15:31:00.000-08:00

It was not the presents that stuck in my childhood memory so much as the smell, the sights and the sounds of Christmas. We had a scratch-n-sniff book that had pages with cinnamon, peppermint, chocolate...and cardamom bread Christmas morning...mmm. The sound of Orson Wells narrating Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" on an old vinyl LP, scratches included. I heard carols sung late into the night with guitar and piano and little voices squeaking to reach the high notes on Joy to the World. I saw all the Christmas lights around town as we drove through neighborhoods with big houses. How did their Daddies get all those lights up? It was amazing to me. Sure, we opened our jammies on Christmas Eve and had two or three presents to open Christmas morning, but it was the ANTICIPATION that made it all worthwhile.
How do I give my daughter a similar experience? How do I shield her from the rampant commercialism, the blatant consumerism, the loss of value associated with tradition...? This year she plays with the baby Jesus in the manger. She knows what Santa looks like (but hasn't sat on his lap). She loves the music and lights, already. The smells are all too familiar at our house (thanks to Daddy and his passion for baking goodies). We tell stories by the tree and reminisce about years past. I guess that's where it all starts. The baby Jesus. The fat man. The lights and music. The smell. The memories.
Merry Christmas everyone. Happy New Year!

Angels Say "La La La" and other things...

2007-12-19T10:55:00.000-08:00

16 months and one week old...
As much as I love my little princess, she certainly can try my patience. Matthew and I have decided that she is a "strong-willed" child. It's only just beginning to manifest itself, but I have to say she's quite good at it! No is her favorite word as long as it's not directed at her.
Fortunately, she has other favorite words like popcorn, bubbles, and amen! I could say right now she's passionate about just about everything, but especially somersaults and blocks. And Daddy. And E-I-O (Old MacDonald). And music. And Baby Einstein Videos. And other children. And her blankie. Like I said, she's passionate.
I love a lot of things about my daughter, but the greatest thing about June is what she teaches me about God. How awesome is our Heavenly Father that He made the story of His son all about things children love? Kids love babies. So, God sent His son as a baby. Jesus wasn't sent as a grown-up to teach grown ups about grown up things. He was sent as a baby to teach grown-ups about baby things like loving, sharing, living day by day and faith. Who knows faith better than a child?
God also made the story of Jesus all about animals. It's almost like He said, "Hmm...now what could I do to make this story really fun for kids? I know, I'll surround the Baby with animals!." So, this baby was born in a barn, surrounded by sheep, goats, chickens, cows, lions, crocodiles and owls. Ok, so maybe we own the story in an unusual way at our house. But she really loves animals! Oh yeah, and kids love music, right? So, God sent angels. They sing. In fact, I don't know if you know this, but everything has a sound. Cows say "moo" sheep say "baa" and angels sing "la la la" (according to June).
Matthew 18:3 (Msg.) says, "Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, 'I'm telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom. What's more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it's the same as receiving me.'" I don't think I need to say much more than that. All I know is that God really values children. What does this tell you about God?

Nearing Christmas

2007-12-17T00:53:00.000-08:00

Enter freely…Reflections on Hebrews 9

Today June followed me into my bedroom, the laundry room, the bathroom (twice), her bedroom and the kitchen. She follows me around. This is really cute because she’s only 16 months old. I think she just likes to know where I am at any given moment. According to the experts, children at this age are able to remember when they leave something in another room, but they like to check occasionally to make sure it’s still there. Most of the time I’m that important thing she likes to check on. Me and her Blankie. It’s because I’m the MOMMY. I’m all powerful! I provide food, shelter, clothes, clean diapers, a place to sleep, comfort and a clean, washed Blankie once a week (or so). She loves me and I love her and it was meant to be that way. No one can love her the way I do, so I like it that she follows me from room to room. I’m glad she feels free to enter wherever I am. In essence, she has standing permission to go where I go unless I arrange otherwise. Even then, she is never really barred from entering my presence.
Does this sound familiar? Our Heavenly Father loves us this way. Because of Jesus, we are able to enter freely into God’s presence whenever, wherever, however we want. If God went to the bathroom, we’d be allowed to barge in on Him just to play peekaboo if we want. The old model was pretty complicated: you couldn’t enter directly into God’s presence, you had to have someone else who was perfect walk in for you. Someone else had to go in to tell God you’re sorry or that you need something or that you’re sick and need His healing. That’s because God’s perfect and I’m not. Now, if I were perfect and June were not, it would be the same way with us. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate her snotty nose, her poopy diapers, her imperfect speech. I would have a mediator stand between us and wipe her nose for me. I see that person as Super-Nanny. Fortunately, we don’t have to live life like that or it would get really complicated. “Nanny, could you please go kiss June’s boo-boo and tell her Mommy loves her?” “Mommy, June just said your name for the first time, isn’t that sweet?” It’s all a little sad. You can imagine how God felt when He couldn’t just reach down and touch us and love us and kiss our boo-boos for us. No wonder He seems just plain cranky sometimes in the Old Testament.
Fortunately, God knows something we don’t. That’s why He set up the whole model of the Temple, the endless rules, the ridiculously impossible requirements; He wanted us to see just why we need Christ. He wanted us to understand our fall from grace and how that grace is big enough to scoop us right back up again. All we have to do is accept that we are not perfect, that God is, and that we desire to be more like Him. Then, we accept that the only way to get close enough to God to learn from Him, is through His perfect son, Jesus Christ. Jesus essentially broke down Daddy’s door for us so we can enter freely. Jesus carried our sin for us into death and left it there, forever. He cleaned us up so what God sees is a perfectly whole you and me…the ideal that lives in each of us without all the other junk. Then, our Father invites us to go where He goes. A standing invitation, an open door policy, from the Creator of the universe. I don’t think it gets much better than that. And believe me, where God goes has nothing to do with diapers and laundry. The adventure that awaits each of us begins with bursting through a door, running into the arms of our Father, and saying, “Daddy, I love you! I want to go where You go.” What are we waiting for? Run on in there, squirt.