The Great Lake

 My children like water, especially lots of it where it doesn't belong.  A few weeks ago, on the first day that was warm enough, they created a lake.

Today

Today, I am focusing on two ideas...

1~ A reminder:  "What excuses do I cling to that keep me from being the kind of wife, mother, daughter, sister, and woman that I know I should and want to be?"  Adapted from here.

2~ A new goal:  To keep my house clean enough to bring myself and those around me joy.  (Note:  This implies neither the chaotic extreme nor the pristine extreme.  Neither brings me joy.)  (Note2: The answer to what this means changes daily.) 

...and enjoying the beauty blooming in my yard.

Dinner Entertainment

Yesterday, I had one of those entertaining mom moments.  We seldom have jello, but decided to have some yesterday.  Watching Young M and Miss E try to figure out how to eat this stuff was delightful.  Forks didn't work.  Neither did knives.  Fingers seemed promising only to have victory slip straight through them.  Here was a pile of tastiness right in front of them, but how to eat it?  Finally, we suggested spoons.

Simple Reminders

First, a reminder that I can do hard things with help from the Lord.

"Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.

He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.

Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall;

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."  Isaiah 40:28-31

Today, for me, this wasn't talking about physically weary, although that is often apt enough.  It was talking about emotionally weary.

Next, a reminder of the gentle understanding the Lord has of some of my current limitations.

"He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young."  Isaiah 40:11

I suppose it is time to trust the Lord enough to keep moving forward.

Again

I've moved my fair share of times in my life, most of them after I got married.  While there was a nice four year stint in one place, in the seven and a half years we've been married, we've lived in five different homes.  In the last year, we've been in three.  And soon we will add one more to those counts.  

I've loved getting to know different cultures and areas of our country.  I've learned to be more compassionate and understanding of those whose lives have been different than mine.  I've learned to appreciate the unique beauty of both the land and the people I've found in each place.  And today I am sick of it.  

I'm tired of feeling like I'm either saying goodbye or just getting to know the people and conventions around me.  I miss the friendships that develop over years, of having someone that will come over just because I call.  I've left a bit of my heart behind in each place I've been.  Today, I feel the holes that have been left.  

In a year I will be more settled.  I will know the names and faces of those around me.  My children will be excited to return to the same school for more than one grade.  We've never tried that.  I won't see every thing in my home as more work that must be packed, moved, unpacked, and decided about.  In a year we will have put down roots.  Hopefully, I will have friends that are closer than email and oftener than the phone.  But today, I am lonely and mourning the pulling up of my family and the new hole we are about to create in my heart.

The hope of spring

I slipped away from the noise and chaos.  As the front door shut behind me, the muffled sounds of the children continued in their play.  I sat on the front step, enjoying the calm and ignoring all that remained to be done behind me.  The flowers on the tree were bright in the warmth of the evening sun.  I thought of spring and renewal--of the glory and beauty of the earth's growth--of the exuberant joy of abundant life after simply survival.

And the Lord started to teach me.

In many ways, my life follows that of the trees and the flowers.  I have periods of simply survival.  Times when only that bare necessities matter, and, sometimes, even some of those don't get done.  These are the times that I drop the signs of abundant life.  Ponytails abound, dinners emerge from boxes, dishes and laundry erupt, and patience gets thin.  And then come the times when I shine.  I am put together, I invite others for dinner, and the children and I find adventures.  I am like that spring time tree.   Much of life is neither.  Much of life is the work of summer growing.  

I've known all of this before, only with different words.  But this time, I learned something new.  Each spring builds on the work of last summer and fall.  Each time I can go further, be more--more kind, more persistant, more full of faith, more orderly, more loving.  And those dormant times of survival, whether they come from moves or babies or trauma or doubt, are the reasons the spring is glorious and that I can grow.  And the times of plenty give me the reserves to weather the long winters that come.  This is how I grow.  This is how I become.  Each year adds another tiny bit that can add up to a beautiful tree that spreads beauty and shade to the weary nearby.   And each winter yields to the inevitable, if sometimes late, spring.

Somehow, the image of that ebb and flow of life was reassuring.  The hope of springs to come filled me with peace.  And as the muffled sounds of play became the muffled sounds of discord, I could return to face all that waited inside.

Foolish

This is the first year any of the children has caught on to the idea of April Fool's Day.  Miss M was enthralled.  It didn't help that her school teacher was helping her plan some of her deeds.  It all started the day before...

Miss M:  Young A, what is your favorite cereal?

Young A:  Oatmeal Squares.

Miss M:  Miss E, what is your favorite cereal?

Miss E:  Oatmeal Squares.

Miss M:  No, you have to choose something different.

Miss E:  Then Shredded Wheat.

Five minutes later, I catch Miss M in the kitchen switching the bags of cereal in the chosen boxes.  The idea was to have them discover her deed the next morning at breakfast.  Unfortunately, as we left to pick up the Professor from work, Young A decided to grab a handful of cereal to tide him over.  He stuck one in his mouth and was very confused.  It took a bit of explaining for him to understand why Shredded Wheat was in his Oatmeal Squares and where in the world his Oatmeal Squares were.

The next day, Miss M got home from school and very quickly asked for a glass of milk as she hurried past hiding something.  Later, I went into the kitchen to find a cup with "spilled milk" left on the table.  She had used glue and a plastic cup to imitate a spill.  She was quite proud of herself.

A bit later, Miss M came to me and asked, so I thought, "Mom, do you want a brownie?"  I figured something was up, but said yes.  I was handed a brown paper E.  How kind.

I must admit it's been fun.  When I realized that Miss M was conspiring before the day even came, I made sure to set a few expectations:  No mess and nothing mean.  She came through with flying colors.