Random

Sometimes life goes in spurts.  At least, it often does for me.  I get thoroughly interested in one topic or activity, then find myself distracted by other pursuits.  This is particularly true when it comes to media outlets.  I'm such a face-to-face gal; virtual connections just don't fill my tank.  Thus, I have found myself largely AWOL from Facebook and blogging as of late.

Here are a few snippets from what's been on my mind lately...

• Continuing to learn not to churn over my mistakes.  The other day friends came over for a playdate and got a kick out of the fact that my son had his pants turned around the wrong way. These were not sweat pants with a barely noticeable front and back pattern.  No, it was completely obvious he had his pants on backwards.  Mommy got busy during a potty break and neglected to check that his dressing skills were on target.  Of course, our guests included a mom with a three year old, 5 month old twins, and a demanding job.  Hmmm, you'd think one mom with one child and no position outside the home could manage to get her child dressed with the apparel facing the appropriate direction, correct?  Do not stew, do not brew, Kristen.  It gave us all a laugh.
• Learning to plant a garden.  It's that time and I'm determined to get tomato plants in this year.  I simply cannot abide the mealy, tasteless choice of tomatoes available at the grocery stores.  Granted, the season of Midwest farmer's markets is nearly upon us which should offer up more appetizing options.  I'd like to try some tomatoes and cucumbers, possibly some carrots and another option.  Herbs are easy.  They grow like wildfire and I can rarely use the amount that I grow.  A favorite fresh summer dish of mine...Caprese salad.  The robust garden tomatoes, fresh mozzarella from the markets, the bite of the basil, all complemented with balsamic vinegar and olive oil.  Ah yes.  I love straight up sweet corn with dripping melted butter too.  That part of my rural upbringing has not left me yet.  I still remember stopping with my mom and brother at the roadside stands out by the neighboring farms to buy corn and tomatoes.
•  Being 42.  This topic could be a post unto itself.   I often hear people moaning about their age once they get past their early 30's.  The strange part for me is that I don't necessarily feel older.  I still feel healthy and strong.  It isn't unusual to get carded for drinks.  It cracks me up when a young guy will hit on me as I'm out with my son, assuming I'm one of the many au pairs in our area.  (Not that this happens every day, mind you).  My brain--and the optimistic driver inside of me--seems to think I can still do everything just as I did ten or fifteen years ago.  Then it hits me...you're middle aged!  You have a family!  It's time to think seriously about future financial responsibilities!   When a friend recently shared that she wanted to stay home with her children but was concerned that the years off would make her too old to re-enter the workplace, it occurred to me that it could mean me too.  I'm glad that I am fortunate enough not to feel slowed down by my age.  It just catches me off-guard sometimes.
• Growing our family.  Yes?  No?  Are we past this point?  How far do we take it?  We're already older parents.  In this current society, it it more common to pursue parenthood at an older age.  But how long do we think about this before we close the door?
• Trying new recipes.  Although this probably will not happen, my husband's company has offices in the UK and we've tossed around the idea of going.  In my research, I discovered a food blog called Farmette (of course, reading food blogs provides crucial information for a move!).  Imen is a fun writer and shares an engaging story of being a Midwest girl, meeting and marrying an Irish farmer, starting farm life after giving up her career and learning to cook.  Her recipes and blog are fun to check out and it's gotten me digging deep into the kitchen again.
• Soaking in the spring-like weather!  We're eager to experience the welcome change of warmer temperatures here in the Chicagoland area.  After being absolutely soaked with rain and flooding--along with the rest of the Midwest--it's been a treat to enjoy the shift.  Cliche as it might sound, I still love to watch the flowers and leaves budding.   The annual blossoming signals the coming of summer and new life.  It never fails to invigorate and energize my spirit.

Enjoy this spring as May begins!

Grateful I

It's not November and the month with the attitude of gratitude lists has come and gone.  Christmas, with its constant reminders of family, friends and blessings, has faded into 2012.  I just need--and yes, want--to practice some gratitude today.

The big impact moments of life invoke gratitude.  They're hard to miss.  Most weeks in our lives are not made up of days when lightning strikes, the clouds part, and rays of light illuminate a dramatic twist with a chorus singing full volume.

Minute blessings are too easy for me to miss.  Gratitude is an act, at least for me, of being present in the moment to truly experience and enjoy what is in front of me.  With the ever-racing tornado of thoughts and ideas typically blowing around in my brain, it's no wonder that being present is difficult.  It requires being still.

A little collection of small, being-present-in-the-moment clips from this week for some gratitude...

1.  Insurance!  Some ongoing health-related issues have caused me to appreciate insurance, even with all of its aches and pains.  We also had a fender bender incident.  Ugh, but glad for insurance.

2.  My son learning (and loving) to tell jokes.  Even the really goofy ones, and let's face it, they're all pretty goofy when you're three years old.

3.  A warm house, well-heated through the bitter cold.

4.  Watching my son laughing wildly while running and launching himself into the ball pit.  Never gets old.

5.  Warm blankets on the sofa in front of a fire. So glad for a fireplace.

6.  Apple Cinnamon tea with a touch of honey.

7.  Foot rub trade-off with my husband before bed.

8.  Sweet Clementines.  Mmmm.  We like the Cuties around here.

9.  Fresh Farms International Market.  Unbeatable selection and quality for the burbs of the Midwest.  Looking around at the piles of amazing fresh food will whet your desire to cook while causing you to shake your head at the abundance we enjoy at the same time.  I love seeing the colors and shapes of all the produce, fresh cheeses and other artisan ingredients.  You cannot possibly want chicken nuggets and boxed mac-n-cheese after grocery shopping here!

Practicing gratitude and presence in the moment today.
Will keep adding to this list!

Listen and Imagine, Part Two

For me, this past post about the word Listen and this present post about the word Imagine are linked.  Not just because they are quite obviously in two parts, not because they are words for me to focus on this year, but because I need one to fuel the other.

I mentioned here that I wanted to learn to listen with a new level of trust in God's desire to teach me, to trust that He personally speaks to me with His Truth.  I shared that I have an insecurity in believing that God really wants to work within me and that He is probably more interested in others.

The second verse that popped out at me as I was reading and studying recently was from Ephesians 3:20.

Now to him that is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations for ever and ever!  Amen.

 All we imagine?  I was captured by that word usage for a while as I lay in my bed reflecting, bible open and head propped on the pillows.  I can imagine quite a few things.  I have a fairly active imagination, actually.  It opened a pasture of new possibilities...what does God in His Omnipotence imagine for us?  For me?  It's mind-bending to think of how billions of people on this planet have wild imaginations, yet God has life for each one of us beyond what any of those imaginations could summon in our minds.

Consider this phrase from the 21st Century King James Version,

Now unto Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think...

The exceeding's, the abundant's, the above all's, for me!  It's true according to His power that is at work within me, for His glory.

Somehow it's so hard for me to connect all of those fabulous adjectives to me and my life.  Do I really believe God is beyond my imagination?

I want to say yes, because it sounds Sunday School good.  The truth is that I often stay within my own imagination.  Since that is fueled by me, it's significantly limited and, well, often sidetracked onto thoughts which essentially feed my own glory.

There is a great gift in attending church at a young age.   I heard the Bible stories and heard the gospel.  I memorized Awana verses that still come back to me and sang songs that I now sing to my own son.  But somehow, sadly, I wasn't really amazed by God.  I accepted His miracles and His power as commonplace stories, forgetting how uncommon God's nature is in this world.

Along the road, whether it was my apathy to God's Word or the pain that broke into my life with jagged wounds, I never gained a deep trust, a belief in God's recognition of Kristen.

When I consider it, it's a little intimidating to pray those kinds of prayers and think those thoughts.  Maybe I have wanted to feel safe, to stay tucked inside the warm and cozy covers of my apathy.  You know, God's work outside of my comfort zone might surprise me with a blast of icy cold air and leave me wanting to dive under the covers again.  Unfortunately, staying in bed doesn't leave a lot of room for growth, much less unimaginable wonders for God to show me.

But what would it be like if I truly asked God to plant His dreams and His imagination within me?  What if I believed that His power is working in me to bring the abundant work to fruition?  I wonder how my own heart might be transformed by believing and trusting in a fresh way, fully acknowledging and embracing who God says He is in His Word?

Time to get a little risky...beyond my own imagination.

Sharing here.

2013 and Narnia

The other night I was watching Prince Caspian from The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.  I love these books and have enjoyed the movies too, though I much prefer reading. 

Today I chatted with an individual who has been and still is a wise mentor in my life.  I was sharing some new life lessons I am learning for myself, some other lessons that I'm learning along with my husband in our marriage, and the many lessons I'm learning with my son.  I noted how things seemed to be shifting significantly, but I also hoped I was up to the task, so to speak.

This woman just happened to be watching the same movie the previous evening and mentioned how I reminded her of one of the characters, Lucy.  In one scene, Lucy is walking with Aslan in the forest.  Thinking of the events to come (and those past, perhaps), she says to Aslan, "Oh, I wish I was braver."  Aslan responds, "If you were any braver, Lucy, you would be a lioness."  My friend and mentor said, "If you were any braver, Kristen, you would be a lioness!"  We laughed together and a smile is still on my face now as I send these words across the screen.  Her enduring encouragement and fierce belief in me, rooted in her own seven-plus decades of life and learning, always lift and inspire me.

She then went on to say, "God is moving in your life.  He is moving and His plan is being worked out.  Aslan is on the move this year, Kristen." 

I love it.  Aslan is on the move.  God is on the move in my life, in your life.  As He always is.

Am I listening?  Is my ear tuned to hear His whispers in the wind?  Do I sit still in the forest to hear His footsteps to follow?  Am I focused to sense His guiding hand upon my shoulder as I traverse the land where He has placed me?  Do I trust Him?  Do I anticipate His presence with joy, as Lucy does with Aslan?

Lucy and Aslan.  Kristen and God.  What a picture.  I like it.

Advent and Lent

I'm not sure why this most obvious connection did not occur to me before...but I've been thinking about the similarities of Advent and Lent; the rhythms of preparation, fasting, reflection and celebration.

Photo from theworshipplace.com

Growing up, I wasn't quite sure what either term meant. I heard Advent and Lent mentioned by Catholic friends, so I thought they were "Catholic."  During Advent, I remember colorful cardboard 3D calendars with doors, each containing a foil-wrapped chocolate.  During Lent, I remember friends missing their favorite guilty pleasures and showing up at school with mysterious ash crosses on their foreheads. 

It wasn't until my thirties that I actually began to integrate Advent practices, and even later until I embraced an observation of Lent. Initially, I decided to investigate both seasons to find out more.  It started with daily readings and prayer, a kind of academic exercise, more head-oriented than heartfelt realization of meaning.  


During Advent, my reflection meant imagining Jesus' entry into this world--the sights, sounds, emotions, and thoughts of those involved.  I reread the story several times.  But what is Advent for me beyond that classic manger moment?  How did I come to believe this miraculous, most supernatural of events?  How would my life be different if it had never happened?  Do I allow the power of His birth to affect my life in months outside of late November thru December?  How?

Advent is a time of reflection and preparation, as is Lent.  I've been using this season to incorporate similar practices of Lent--such as fasting--to help me focus.  Particularly with the emphasis on Christmas shopping and special events, it's easy to make this a season of more, more, more.  However, it is easier for me to truly prepare my thoughts when I have less.  I've never fasted during Advent before, but it has brought new meaning to this Christmas holiday.  It's become deeper, its significance reaching beyond a single day.

I'm still going to enjoy the lights, music, decorations, and exchange of presents.  These gifts remind me of the gifts that come from Christ’s birth and the joy that Mary, Joseph, the angels and the shepherds experienced on that night so long ago.

Advent is here, Christmas is coming. We’re waiting in both seasons of Advent and Lent.  Lent culminates in darkness of grief followed by the Easter light of resurrection joy.  Advent will soon culminate in Christmas Day, a celebration for Jesus' birth.  In both Advent and Lent, we experience the rhythms of waiting and hoping, then rejoicing in beautiful fulfillment. 

How have you found your faith traditions evolving over the years?  

Wildflower Story

I didn't pick Wildflower because the uniqueness would set me apart.  There are actually a multitude of Wildflower blogs out there, each with its own interpretation.

I didn't pick Wildflower because I have a long-abiding love for studying them, although I have always loved taking pictures of them.  The photos in my blog header are images I took while hiking in California with my husband, son, dad, and stepmother on Shasta Mountain.

I picked Wildflower because it has intimate meaning to me in terms of learning to like myself, to feel more confident about who God created me to be.

Years ago I knew a small group of women.  While walking through the streets of Chicago with one of these women, she mentioned two other people in our circle.  She talked about their beauty and their accomplishments, the rich and tasteful lives they led.  She described them as red roses.

She described me as a wildflower.  You know (the idea of her comparison, anyway)...a wildflower is still nice with redeeming qualities, but not quite a rose.  A little on the outer edge of high standards.

To be fair, I don't believe she was trying to inflict pain.  I think she was calling out our differences.  She chuckled and I laughed along with her, accepting that of course people would see a wildflower and not a rose.  I don't think she intended for her comment to stay with me.  That was my doing.  The reason it stayed with me is because I did see myself as less and always have.  She just stated aloud what I didn't want to admit about how I felt, because it wouldn't sound centered or spiritual. 

Through the journey of being a mom, raising a son much like myself, I'm seeing myself differently these days.  I see my intensity not as a characteristic to "dial down," but as a large resource for determination, energy and willingness to offer gifts to others.  I see my creativity and imagination not as odd but as part of a unique voice to speak for myself.  I'm learning to see my past failures not as boulders of shame to carry but as stepping stones in my life where God teaches me. I'm truly receiving God's love.  I'm focusing on appreciating the people in my life who love me rather than obsessing about winning the favor of those who do not.  I'm working to dwell less on finding significance from people and instead dwell in God's Word.

So I circle back around to where I began.  Recently when I visited the site of an artisan and blogger I enjoy, she was offering a necklace on sale.  Initially, I confess, I clicked the link because I was interested in the jewelry for a discounted price.  But the necklace caught me off guard...it was called Wildflower.  Since I've never forgotten the earlier statement the woman made, the jewelry name sparked my interest.  I loved the piece and was caught by new thoughts.  Just as the artisan transformed the metal charm into the desired shape containing the wildflower image, God transformed the comment and my heart in the process.

I realized I could choose how to receive her comment...and so many other events in my life.  She may not exactly have meant it for harm or for good, but suddenly I saw it as good.  I could choose to love what God created instead of constantly questioning and complaining about His plan for good.

Necklace by Lisa Leonard Designs

I love to be out under the sky, feeling the sun and breezes across my body.  The wind and weather have blown me back and forth in the wide open field, perhaps I've even been stepped on a few times by careless feet.  But I'm rooted now in God's word, growing in His truth.

The thing about wildflowers is that they grow in all kinds of environments.  Green leaves and colorful blossoms burst forth from between the rocks.  Unexpected beauty.  They ornament an dull landscape yet withstand the elements.  Life-giving.  Steadfast.

I'm embracing myself as a wildflower and the richness I have to offer.  I wear my necklace often and it reminds me of truth.

So my new blog name was born...Wildflower.  And proud of it.

Sharing this story here and here.

Role Reversal...Teacher to Parent

Almost eighteen years ago, I taught my first day of second grade.  In my new-teacher eagerness, I designed a ridiculously complicated scavenger hunt for my students to do upon arrival.  Families came and parents dutifully attempted to guide their children through a dizzying maze of activities, which unfortunately caused much confusion.  In my mind's eye, everyone would be engaged in the fun of learning!  Parents would be ecstatic about the school year!  I clearly had a lot to learn.  The parents, more concerned than ecstatic, finally filed out.   We were running late and feeling flustered.  Thankfully, I can now file that morning under "embarrassing moments to learn by" and laugh at my well-intended but baffling scavenger hunt.

A lot to learn, yes.  Part of my own life education included how to communicate with parents of my students.  As a teacher, I experienced parents who were relaxed, encouraging, worried, distant, involved, critical, driven, committed, and usually a combination of those...and more.  Without children, I could only strive to do my best to understand what parents were going through.  I tried to listen carefully to friends who had children.  Still, it's not quite the same.  Then my turn finally came.

My child is at the start, going to his first year of preschool.  I'm already starting to experience feelings I didn't see coming.  In the corner of my mind where I hold silent thoughts I'm not brave enough to say aloud, I find myself wondering, Do the teachers think I'm a good parent?  Is my child doing okay?  Is he making friends?  Oh crap, I forgot my assigned ingredient of raisins for the Halloween brew project today!  When I heard one teacher use a tone with my son that was not as warm as I would have liked, I bristled.  I bristled even though, to be fair, I use an impatient voice sometimes too.  Because my heart is tied up in this child as his mother, in a million ways that are different from being the teacher.

The lessons I'm learning as a parent are part of my skin and bones, they are part of me as my son is part of me. They will go with me. I think I've gained fresh compassion.  I realize now that when a parent is overly anxious, it might mean, I'm scared for my child.  The hidden truth is that I'm hurting and unsure right now.  On the other hand, I know it's good for my son to take a few steps without me. He will be exposed to new expectations and strategies. He will receive insight via teachers with different strengths from mine, and he will be stretched and challenged.  I'll be there to instruct, guide, support, and cheer as it all unfolds.

I'm untangling my own insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams from his journey so that he is free to grow into the man God created him to be.  I'm becoming more confident in myself, first as a woman and also in my role as mom.  I'm slowly shedding the need for that "gold star" of approval from others, although this is admittedly hard for a girl who likes her invisible gold stars of approval from people.  I can have peace and contentment about the decisions my husband and I make even though not everyone understands or agrees.

Have you ever experienced a role reversal?  Did it impact your life for the better?

And...to my friends who are teachers without having your own children, you are incredible.  These thoughts are some of the personal reflections I've had lately.  I've been inspired by you and I'm glad that you bring so many of your gifts to students.  They are blessed by you.

New

When I tentatively published my first post a couple of years ago, I kept it secret.  It felt scary and vulnerable so I didn't tell a soul.  Then I shared it randomly, still with a tightly clenched fist.

I got distracted.

I wandered back.

I'm enjoying this outlet of the written word and I've decided it's a good practice for me in this place of life.  But the blog needed to be more ME, where I am right now, as the woman I'm growing into this moment.

The wildflower story is pretty intimate but important to me.  It speaks of seeing myself in a better light, seeing myself in a loving and gentle way, the way I think God sees me.

So it's new.  I'm a little more brave about sharing.  A little.

Risk.

New.

Scary but good.

Wild Wild West

Photo Courtesy of BBC Radio, TODAY show

Dust blew across the now-deserted dirt road that served as Main Street in Anytown, Wild Wild West.  Curious and frightened townsfolk pulled back their curtains just enough to peek through the windows and watch what would happen between the dueling parties.  Children were hushed and scurried off so they wouldn't be exposed to the carnage sure to follow soon.  Horses stamped nervously and whinnied with the tension.  Crunching of packed-down sand came from two sets of boots and spurs walking with determination to face the foe, six-shooters hanging ready in hip holsters.  Muscles tightened and teeth were gritted in resolution.  The adversaries had piercing, cold daggers in their eyes as they surveyed the rival.  An eerie, heavy silence settled down upon the scene while everyone waited to see who would act first.

It's a showdown!  Wild West style.   Well, not exactly.  No six-shooters.  No holsters, chaps, or spurs.  No tumbleweed rolling across the desolate landscape.  The setting is less glamorous...just my home.  No cowboys and saloon girls.  The characters in this drama...my husband and I.  But we have no shortage of stubborn determination and pride.  Piercing gaze for the adversary spouse?  Check.  Teeth gritted in resolution?  Check.  Waiting for the first move?  Check.

I found myself in a showdown recently.  Our relationship encountered a juncture that positioned me on one end of the street while my husband faced me down on the other end.  We had named the issue we wanted to address.  We knew what needed to be done.  Yet we still waited, angry, frustrated, and each convinced the other was wrong. Each was committed to getting our personal brand of justice.  Who moves first?  And  no--don't worry--not for a six-shooter.  In this scene the move is to lay the six-shooter down on the ground.  Hands might be raised in surrender of pride, or in a gesture to reach out to the other person.  But alas, we continued to hold our ground and piously wait for the other to ask forgiveness so we could dole it out graciously, ever benevolent and tolerant.

I probably have spent enough time reasoning about why I'm right to have earned multiple graduate degrees.  My evidence can reach thesis-level documentation and research into the facts pertaining to my case (as I perceive them, of course).  Whether it's prosecution or defense, my verdict is always innocent.  I even like to imagine the presiding judge shaking his or her head at the antics of the other side, clearly seeing the errors of my husband's ways and supporting my claims.  Certainly I cannot be expected to be the first to back off in a showdown?  Why, that would mean admitting I'm wrong.  That I actually contributed to the problem.  That I screw up--well, all the time.  That my pettiness rises up and that my choices aren't always life-giving.  That I like to find the speck in my husband's eye before I remove the log in my own.

Humility has to be one of the most difficult choices, ever!  What if I don't get the apology I--ahem--deserve?

So that I don't leave you in suspense with a cliffhanger, here is the conclusion.  The effort was made, by my husband and myself in different ways.  Each of us took a couple of hard steps that involved humility and a dose of awkwardness too.  I'm incredibly proud to say we both climbed that mountain together.  It felt like a dam breaking open after a crack weakened the previously formidable structure.  Forgiveness began to flow, conversation resumed and even flourished.  Laughter broke forth again and refreshed our dwindling reserves. Our companionship deepened yet another level. 

This isn't only about marriage, is it?  That's just my story for today.  Showdowns happen all the time in different ways with different people living out different roles of life.  May I remember the fruit from this experience and use it for the next.

Linking this here.

Time for Play

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

No play?  No time?  One of the most frequent topics I hear discussed among women, whether it's while grabbing a snippet of conversation in between playground equipment or sipping coffee at Starbucks, is finding balance in life. What do we allow into our days?  What do we edit out?  24/7 is hardly enough.

Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not a post about how to navigate the jungle of playdates, sports, music, school, family time, church, work pursuits, and other activities that seek to devour precious time. Except, perhaps, practicing the word "NO."  Consistently.  Brutally.  Even against the cultural tide of busyness that threatens to sweep the years away before we know what has happened, and we find ourselves looking back on a landscape littered with piles of activities and lists that no longer seem important.

What I know to be true about my own life is that I am MORE than dull when I don't make time for my own unique version of play.  The proverb might be rewritten like this, "All work and no play makes Kristen impatient, tired, discouraged, dull, less creative and less grateful." Gotta play.

Before there is a cacophony of voices demanding how play is supposed to happen, I want to acknowledge that there are different phases of life.  There are seasons when creating time for play is less complicated, when time and freedom are more abundant. There are also seasons when time is scarce, a precious commodity in our personal economy.  We wonder whether play can really be part of the picture. Adding in play takes committed intention. 

Please don't give up, even when it takes more intention.  The intentionality required will force you to sharpen your vision, to narrow your focus and spotlight the priorities that are most cherished in your life. You might find that you can be ruthless when cutting the extraneous junk out of your life.  It might require you to, say, keep the TV off at the end of a day instead of collapsing on the couch.  Maybe it means trading childcare to find a couple of hours here and there. Guilt-free.  Not easy.  I know, I know.

One of the ways I play is to get outdoors and run.  Up early before my husband leaves for work, I roll out of bed and lace up my shoes in the dark. Many Saturday mornings I step carefully and creak down our old home's hallway and close the door behind me, leaving my two favorite guys sound asleep in their warm beds while I head out into the crisp air.

Sometimes the start is groggy and sluggish--have to admit it--but on the return I'm energized and thankful.  I feel the strength God has given me surging through my arms and legs, grateful for my lungs breathing deeply.  My heart rate quickens and my body does the amazing work of supporting the increased exertion I'm asking of it.  I find my spirits lifting as my feet pound the ground and the miles tick by.  I always notice the trees.  They change season by season, mirroring the continuing changes in my life as time marches on.  When running with a friend, I find encouragement in hearing her life journey and embrace the connection in conversation, sore muscles, and laughter.  By myself, I crank up the playlist on my iPod and JUST GO.

What do you do to play?  Have you made any time for it lately?

Out of the Comfort Zone

I spent the teen years of junior high and high school working hard to fit in, perform well in sports, snag decent grades, and curl my feathered hair into Heather Locklear waves (Hello 80's).  Friends ruled ALL for me.  Teachers, parents, and coaches were in the mix somewhere, but heaven forbid if I didn't have a posse.  I needed girlfriends for sauntering around the hallways during lunch, entering the basketball game to find a bleacher seat, circling the mall looking for cute guys and hoping we were cute too, and taking multiple trips to the bathroom. I'm fortunate, I guess.  I actually can say that I look back at those years and have a surprisingly large number of good memories despite the snake pit of hormonal teenagers corralled together in what we like to call high school.

But underneath that, sometimes I cringe when I remember the people I ignored in my quest to be with those in my "target" comfort zone.  I have one clear memory of feeling elation at being invited to sit with a large table of girls who--at least in my estimation--were "it" girls.  The tables scattered around our cafeteria were filled with laughing, teasing teens.  Then I turned slightly to see three girls who were not considered "it" girls, sitting at a nearly-empty, silent table.  Their eyes were down, faces sober.  My gaze lingered for a moment, and I can still remember the question popping into my head, "What would happen if I walked over there and joined their table?"  I quickly pushed this thought aside and turned away from them, uncomfortable observing their isolation and yet unwilling to jeopardize my status.  Though I was not always this blatant, I continued looking for people in my comfort zone throughout college and even into my 20's, though I would have liked to think myself more evolved.  I might have reached out externally to people--yes.  But often there was an internal judgment occurring, of which I am not proud.

Then a curve ball came my way.  I got married around 30--a pretty typical age for Chicago singles who enjoy their freedom, higher education, and careers.  And then...I couldn't get pregnant.  Slowly, everyone around me had one, then two.  Still no baby.  People became awkward and changed the topic of mothering when I came around.  There's much more to that story, but the point here is this--many women in my target comfort zone became uncomfortable with ME.  Oh.  Huh.  Ouch.

Curve ball again.  Years later, I somehow managed to become pregnant with my first child.  Fantastic!  We were and continue to be thrilled with our little guy.  And just as those I had known who had been having children for the last several years were returning to work and starting the soccer/baseball/music lessons/dance recital marathon of parenting school-age children, I decided to resign and stay home full-time. 

Just for a little more challenge, my husband and I decided to pile on the additional layer of practically-annual moves from one community to another.  We were gypsies without a place to call our own--in our late thirties when everyone else was being responsible and paying mortgages like proper adults should be--and we were living like recent college graduates.

Every time these life shifts happened on a different time table than everyone else, I was presented with a choice...be isolated or get out of my comfort zone.  This was not easy for me, at all.  Just saying.  I can't tell you how many moms groups, church nights, community playgroups, and general local gatherings I entered into with butterflies in my stomach while I scanned the room for a place to connect.  I have now lost track of how many times I have initiated, "Do you want to get together?"  I made new friends and expanded my comfort zone.  Good stuff.  I also found out what it was like when people were not interested in taking "new friend" applications, or at least not mine.  Life had set me into a different place.  I felt (and sometimes still do) like the three quiet girls back in that old cafeteria, looking and hoping for a place to belong.  I've also learned the power of initiating, taking awkward first steps, and inviting others into your home and life.  Also good stuff, although not quite as fun as those who immediately want to enjoy life with you and share a good laugh while doing so.

I can say that over the years this was just one of the lessons God taught me through fertility issues about how to reach out to anyone, everyone, in all walks of life.  About how to "cross the room" and engage people from different cultures and different lifestyles.  I'm proud to say I count my good friends as being many years younger and many years older.  We live in tiny apartments, huge houses, and those homes all sizes in-between.  I have friends who cannot stand exercise and crafting, although I love both. I enjoy friends who share my faith and those who do not. We focus on the things we love and respect the differences between us.  I am keenly aware of how much I learn from these relationships, even the ones that aren't always easy.  So thankful to get out of the comfort zone and trek into the unknown.

Linking this story here.

Start Where You Are

I have heard this statement multiple times, most recently on one of my regular reads, here.  It bears repeating, however, and it has encouraged me to do just that...get my rump in gear and start right from here.

I was just rereading my blog...June 2011 since my last post.  A busy year, mostly devoted to my son and working on some things in our own lives.  But I've got the itch to blog again, start checking in here and there and writing about life.

So here we go...

Cruisin' thru June

Summertime...and the livin' is easy.
Fish are jumpin'
and the cotton is high.

George Gershwin's tune was one of my favorite songs in college when I was working with a voice teacher.  The melody perfectly complements the lyrics, in my opinion.  It feels a little lazy, a little slow, and invites you to let out a long exhale, lean back in your chaise lounge, and sip cool lemonade.

June has started off with some changes, a trip to TN, a new class, and some new summer goals for me.  This past week we went to Tennessee to visit family and attend a wedding of friends.  The wedding--although brutally hot--was a beautiful traditional Tennessee affair.  The wedding was outdoors by a wonderfully aged barn.  The women had gorgeous dresses paired with flip-flops!   We strolled across the lawn to the tent with ice-cold drinks and a BBQ feast. As the evening wore on, the patio turned into a dance floor, the strung lights swaying back and forth with the hum of celebration.  My son had a fantastic time visiting family.  He had the absolute luxury of running outside to a huge lawn every morning, (swim trunks on right away), and played in the wading pool every possible minute.  He loved it!

We've got some personal changes as a family to address.  As I learn to adjust to the challenges, I'm looking for ways to maintain peace in my heart and patience with the situation.  I created a sanctuary spot for myself, where I keep important tasks at my fingertips, quotes and encouraging scripture or passages, journals, and a few items that help me take a deep breath when I'm feeling frustrated.  The peonies from the farmer's market are wonderful!

I'm reading The Happiness Project.  It's an interesting approach to creating a more peaceful, positive attitude in your life.  While I know my true source of joy is from Christ, I must admit I do think the same way as the author, Gretchen Rubin.  I'm inspired to try making some more intentional choices about my attitude and how I spend my time.

Many months ago, back when winter was still blowing with its full force in January, I started an online class called Soul Restoration through Brave Girls Club.  I'm beginning the second class in the series and it will be fun to see what great projects and instruction we get this time around!

This week I'm heading to the local running store to pick up my Mother's Day gift...new running shoes!  Running is so peaceful for me.  It's particularly beneficial to de-stress when facing some of the personal changes in our family I mentioned above.  I put these on...

 

grab this...

 

and head out here...

for a refreshing, invigorating boost.  Trekkin' on and lovin' it.

A New Decade

Photo from thetwistedsifter.com

This weekend I stepped through the birthday gateway into my fifth decade of life.  That's right, the big 4-0.

I'm not the kind of person who anticipates a big party with lots of hoopla.  I tend to feel self-conscious and instead of enjoying a large celebration I squirm and fidget inwardly, eager to escape out of the spotlight.  When I was a child, my well-intentioned father always brought out the servers performing the big song and dance with everyone in the restaurant turning to watch.   Ugh!!  It was dreadful for someone like me.

I have made this very clear to my husband over the years so he honored my wishes and took me out for a date night to my favorite restaurant in Chicago, Frontera Grill,

with this famous chef at the helm.

Photo by Chicago Tribune

Unfortunately I  (once again) was not good with pictures so we didn't get any from the evening.  But I had a fabulous dinner with a Mango Mojito, jicama salad, shrimp taquitos, pork loin with mole and white corn cakes, and a tamarind-chocolate cake.  Divine.  Simply divine.  I suggested that we do this every weekend but somehow my husband did not see that as very realistic.  Oh well.

He also presented me with tickets to one of our absolute favorites--U2!

Photo from U2.com

I am so excited about the concert, but it will be a practice in delayed gratification as I have to wait until July.

Not surprisingly, as I enter a new decade I have been asked by a few people about the topic of being in my 40's.  Does it bother me?  Do I think about the number?

My honest answer is no!  I truly don't devote much time to thinking about the number of my age.  If I'm going to reflect, it's usually in the context of seeing where God has led me--the extreme ups and downs and everything in between.  I think about where I've come from, what I've learned, and what I'm still striving to do with the life I've been granted.  As I mature, I notice the inevitable life changes that come along with increasing years.  I can't easily bounce back into shape like I did 15+ years ago, I'm realizing that no amount of moisturizer is going to stop the crows feet from multiplying around my eyes when I smile, gray is creeping into my hair, people gently refer to me as an "older" new mom, and it is not likely that I will be having more children at this juncture of my life.  So...that's reality.  Here is more reality:  I have a relationship with God that never existed this way in years prior, I have a wonderful husband and an adorable son, I have an opportunity to spend extra time home with my son, I have supportive friends in my corner, I get to live right across the street from the beach and a great lakefront path which we use extensively, I go to a church I'm blessed to be part of, and I have the chance to continue my education and keep growing in so many ways.

I was thinking about what I might like to do in the next ten years...possibly...

1. Finish my Masters degree
2. Work on a second language
3. Do more skiing
4. Find a niche with serving
5. Take a missions trip with my husband--and possibly my son
6. Join a cooking club
7. Run another marathon
8. Grow in my own identity and build confidence in who God has created me to be
9. Travel to more national parks
10. Learn to sew
11. Find more ways to reach out to others
12. Plant a garden

Well, that--along with returning to work at some point--should occupy a fair amount of my time so perhaps I should save some thoughts for 50.

My biggest thought about being 40 is that I am GRATEFUL.

Grateful.

Lessons from the Wemmicks

If you haven't read the book You are Special by Max Lucado, I highly recommend you read it when you have the opportunity.  Although it is a children's book, there are truths for children and adults alike.  I have the tendency to put myself down and place my own value in the hands of others instead of standing secure in what I know to be true about myself.  While I read it to my son, I hope and pray that he will learn to live in the knowledge of his worth.  At the same time, I absorb a little encouragement for me too!

In this story, Punchinello is the main character who lives with other Wemmicks, wooden people all made by Eli the Carpenter.  Each day, the Wemmicks hand out stickers to each other.  Gold stars, not surprisingly, are for those who are attractive, talented, and intelligent.  Grey dots are given to those who are falling apart and make mistakes.  Punchinello struggles because he is often the recipient of the dreaded grey dots and the more he tries for gold stars, the more discouraged he becomes and the more mistakes he makes.

 Finally he meets Lucia, a Wemmick with no stars or dots.  He learns her secret is to visit Eli the Carpenter and spend time with him. She knows her true identity is not in what the other Wemmicks think but in the fact that she is loved by her Maker.

 Punchinello loves the idea of living free of the marks given by other people and as a result visits Eli and begins to understand that he is loved beyond what he could have imagined.  His healing begins.

What a great story.  It is so easy to become more focused on pleasing or impressing other people and as a result get completely distracted from spending time with God, our Creator.  How often do we allow ourselves to be defined or judged by others instead of resting securely in what we know to be true?  Do we find too much value in receiving admiration of others?

Away with the stars!  Away with the dots!   Lucia had the right idea, living free of the marks place by others and fully enjoying her true value.

Sorry?

Whew...it's been a while.  A few nasty colds and out-of-town guests later (the colds were nasty--not the guests!), we are settling back into a normal routine.  It feels good to fall back into some familiar rhythms and be able to enjoy getting out of the house.  As much as I am a winter chick, I join the hordes of  Midwesterners wishing fervently for spring to make its welcome appearance.  I can just envision the first tiny green buds popping out on the branches outside our windows.  A couple of days ago I was delighted to see the tulips pushing up and reaching into the fresh air.  Beyond that, I am already anticipating loading my son up with our beach gear in a wagon and walking across the street to soak in the waves and the sand on the shores of Lake Michigan.  Ahhh.  Can't wait.

But today, although it's warmer than many winter days, we are still not quite ready for the spring and summer activities coming soon.  So my son and I were out playing with other moms and kids in an indoor area.  My son, as toddlers are prone to do, was becoming too rough in his play with another child.  As I observed what was happening, I scooted over to intervene.  After talking with him, I directed him to apologize to the other child.  He was not in favor of this idea and made it known!  Fast forward.  As I finished interacting with him, I overheard another individual commenting that she hated it when her parents made her apologize when she wasn't truly sorry.  The overall gist of her opinion was that we're just teaching kids to lie when we tell them to apologize if they really don't feel sorry.

Now I must confess that my insecure side immediately flared up and I felt hurt and defensive that (in my opinion) my parenting was being criticized.  However, trying to get past that muck, I did reflect on the other parent's comments.  After thinking about how I handled the situation, I concluded that I wouldn't change my desire to have my son apologize.  Am I teaching him to lie and be angry with me for expecting him to say or do something that he doesn't feel in that moment?

I fully anticipate that he will be unhappy with some of my expectations, especially in the heat of the moment.  That's just going to be reality for many years to come.  But teaching him to lie? The incident made me recall a discussion I had recently, in which someone pointed out that emotion often follows theology, and emotion will catch up later.  Maybe in a moment when we are struggling with negative emotions, we won't feel like apologizing when we've wronged or in some way offended others.  The theology I believe shapes my actions (I try, anyway!) and I recognize that in order to make a conciliatory gesture to "right my wrong," I need to say those words...even when I don't feel very sorry.  Besides, learning to say "I'm sorry" can be incredibly powerful in relationships.  I'm sorry can melt icy silences.  I'm sorry can open the doors to conversation when anger blocks the lines of communication.  I'm sorry demonstrates an attitude of grace, forgiveness, and humility as Christ modeled for us.  I'm not suggesting this be done in a doormat mindset that leaves no room for healthy boundaries.  However, there are many times when we've done something intentionally or inadvertently to offend, and the apology extended can be instrumental in repairing either a small crack or large fissure in a broken relational bridge.  Furthermore, the more we practice our theology, the more our emotions will run parallel to the theology we're living out.  As behavioral patterns form and our minds are transformed (Romans 12:2), we will have more discernment to recognize what is true and right, act on it, and our feelings may gradually be more in tune.  Of course there will always be times that we don't feel like making the right choice, but when we do it anyway we increase in this little bit of growth I like to call building character.

My son is not old enough to have this discussion, so for now he will be expected to apologize when he hurts others.  Hopefully as the years pass we can talk more about why we apologize so he can at least have an early understanding that we apologize not in a deceitful attempt to patch things up but to genuinely demonstrate love, kindness, and a little healthy humility. 

Now after all of those thoughts...do you think I can remember this during the next disagreement my husband and I have with each other?

Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.  Romans 14:19

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’^{[a] 31} The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^[b] There is no commandment greater than these.”  Mark 12:30-31

A Friday Aftenoon

It looks like spring today and it feels more like spring today.  We're even going to Spring Forward this weekend.  These brought some of the spring mood inside...

 

I decided for certain on Ash Wednesday what I wanted to focus on for the next 40 days.  While some of those thoughts are personal, I will share that I want to work on being fully present in each moment.  I desire to discipline my mind not to run unleashed through all of my concerns, to do lists, and ideas so much that I forget to engage in the beauty of each small moment.  I am so much more grateful and content when I live this way.

I was reminded of this as I took my camera and began snapping some photos today.  Plants and flowers always encourage me to be present in the moment, because I stop, crouch, lean forward, and focus carefully so as not to miss out on the artistry of each small detail masterfully designed by our Heavenly Father.  What would it be like if I engaged in this manner more often?  Would I notice more people in need?  Would I catch a smile more often from my family?  Would I spend more time in awe at the work of God's hands?  How many times have I missed something precious?

I hope that I will discover more about living into each moment so I don't lose out!  It's a challenge to change old habits and start new ones.  But I love it when something fresh and new is blooming.

Gifts from the Weekend

I returned yesterday from a refreshing weekend in Oak Brook.  I had my friendship tank filled to the brim with great conversations.  Some were funny, some were serious, some were revealing, and some were instructive.  I even got a good makeup tip (Bare Minerals, anyone?).   Both Saturday and Sunday mornings allowed for a walk on the area paths with a friend.  Yup, we bundled up and braced ourselves against the wind while we chatted non-stop about life (thanks to my sweet roommates for putting up with my early rising!).  That's what I love about spending time with women, especially my sisters in Christ this weekend.  It is so incredibly good in our current culture to see and actively experience TRUE beauty, which I observed in a community of women seeking and worshiping God with all of their hearts.

My life's journey over the last ten months has been pointing my heart and mind to the state of my soul.  God has used multiple tools to lead me to new places of healing and learning.  I have been striving daily (often minute-to-minute!) to train my thought patterns not to drown in the lethal cocktail of anxiety and insecurity, and to lean into scripture like never before for the only effective antidote.  This weekend was a resounding affirmation to these past months and my current efforts to live out the truths I am learning in fresh ways. 

One of the workshops I attended, taught by Susan Shadid, was called Liturgy Matters.  Not growing up in a liturgical setting and having little exposure to many of those traditions and their related history, I found it intriguing.  I am fascinated by the idea of following a rhythm of time that draws my mind to Christ throughout the year.  As a result, I have decided that for the first time I will participate in the Lenten season this year.  I will be attending an Ash Wednesday service this week and am now reflecting on how I personally will use these 40 days to contemplate Christ's sacrifice and what this means in my life (there is a helpful overview here).  I am eager to experience this Lenten season and wonder how it may impact Easter weekend, which often goes by with a nod and a prayer...topped with a loaded Easter buffet that leaves me stuffed and more interested in seeking a nap than in celebrating Christ's miraculous resurrection.

I am so grateful today for the gifts from this weekend.

           Blessings to you today as you trek through life.  May your soul know true beauty.

Soul Matters

The soul matters.  In a big way.

The last week we've had a lot going on at home.  In addition to busy schedules and long, unfinished task lists, my son was ill.  Several days were spent inside our little warm cocoon at home and we were both itching to get out.  As soon as we walked through the door and hit the sidewalk, he opened up his little arms wide to the world as if to say, "I'm back and I'm lovin' it!"  I know how he felt.  We even got to make a stop at his favorite park down the block to take a quick trip down the slide.

 This upcoming weekend is a women's retreat through our church called Soul Matters.  I'm staying with friends in a nice hotel and enjoying good teaching and personal time.  I'm leaving Friday and returning Sunday at lunch so I'll get a wonderful opportunity to enjoy some connecting with God, others, and myself.  I'm definitely bringing my running shoes along and hoping I can find a pretty trail in the area where the hotel is located.

When the soul gets a little weary from the daily trek of life, it's good to make sure that time with God is a priority.  Even if it can't be in the form of a weekend retreat, I find that quiet time to journal, read, and pray sharpens my vision and fills my tank for the next task at hand.  It's helpful for me to be in touch with those habits and activities that replenish my soul. First and foremost, I need...
Time with God.  This is all I need, I could stop the list here!  

There are other soul "thirst quenchers" that I can think of too.  This is not an exhaustive list, but a start:

• Walking outdoors (surprise!)
• Time having fun with family
• Journaling
• Crafting
• Reading
• An evening out with friends
• A new decor or cooking magazine
• Trips to the flea market
• Going to the library
• Trying a great new restaurant
• Putting my feet up with a glass of wine and watching a good movie with my awesome husband

Make time for the things that speak to your soul, your soul matters!

Bright Spot on a Cloudy Day

The great mounds of snow are melting...for the first time today I got to my car without climbing any snowdrifts!  I wish I had some pictures of myself climbing the drifts juggling my son, my bags, my keys, and any other "necessary" equipment for our outings.  Needless to say, no sexy stilettos have any place here!  The weather has done a 180 degree turn and now we are climbing up toward 60 degrees--in February.  The day has been a bit gloomy outside and I've been enjoying the opening of my latest collection of blooms.  I'm also motivated to get acquainted with my Casio to improve the pictures I'm taking, even if it is a little point-and-shoot camera!

I'm thinking today of how the beautiful colors and designs of the opening petals bring brightness to a scene, even if the rest of the backdrop is gloomy and wet.  It challenges me to live that way myself.  Even if my circumstances are less than perfect, can I choose to shine anyway?  I hope I can walk through much of life like that...brightening a situation with a heart attitude of peace and joy despite my circumstances.  After all, that is TRUE beauty, isn't it?