Why I Don't Homeschool

We all make choices. What to wear, what to eat, how to discipline, what to read, where to shop, how fast to drive, what to say, what not to say.  We all make choices and we tend to think (whether we admit it or not) that our choices are better than those that choose otherwise.

Why would we make a choice we thought wasn't best?

Granted, there are times we wish we'd made a better choice.  But when it comes to the big things - how to raise your  kids, how to spend your money, where to live, etc; we often feel a need to justify and defend our decisions.  And it's really great if we can convince others that they should make the same decision we did - cause somehow that means we are right.  And we like to be right, don't we?

Right about the time I started this blog I had a post that vaguely talked about an issue I was wrestling with; something that was a really tough decision for me.  I couldn't see a clear leading either way...initially.

So here it is.  The issue was "Do I homeschool our kids? Or not?" It's always a question a I get when people find out I have an education degree.  I've always said that if it seemed like the best thing for  one of them I would, but that I didn't think that that meant I had to for all of them.  Furthermore, I work in and respect the public school system - especially here where our schools and teachers are outstanding.   Move me somewhere where that isn't true and I might change my tune.   This was always my stance: I am not saying I wouldn't, I just haven't felt called to it.

So here was the dilemma - I was starting to feel like I "should" homeschool - but not that I was necessarily "called" to homeschool.  Does that make sense?  Let me explain.  I have friends that homeschool, I have more friends that homeschool now... and sometimes it seemed that the "right" and "Christian" thing to do is to homeschool. This was the spoken and unspoken vibe I often got.  But as I wrestled...and I mean wrestled, with this decision it became more and more clear to me that there was much to consider in this decision. It was not black and white. For us.

I want to be respectful, because as many of you know, I am not one who is easily influenced by others. I speak MY mind and make MY own decisions, so you need to know that these influences where coming from people that I love and respect.  I do believe that some of them have made this decision out of a clear calling from the LORD and I bless them in that decision.  My difficulty comes with the instances of trying to convince others that their decision is the best...for everyone.  Often, this is accompanied by an implication that if they would really listen to God, they too would come to the conclusion that homeschooling is right, and other forms of education are wrong...or at least a mild form of neglectful parenting.

Let's remember what I said before - you make and act on decisions because you believe them to be best. I get that.

The longer I wrestled, the more uneasy I became about homeschooling.  And I felt horrible about it.  I felt guilty, because there had become this stern voice inside that said, "If you really love your kids, and want them to excel, and be good Christians, then you should homeschool them." Conversely, "If you are an incapable parent, who cares not about feeding your children to the droning machine of society and immorality you will choose the EASY option of institutional education."

I loved the idea of more time with my kids.  I love my kids, most of us do.  I loved the idea of expanded curriculum, more time to connect spiritual life with everyday learnings, creating a school room, more fluid schedules, and the list goes on and on. I even think it would be really fun. I really like the idea of having more control over my kids' influence. Stop the bus.  There it was. 'I' and 'control'.

I have a deep belief that as a parent my job is to make my kids independent, functioning, contributing, and influencing members of society.  That my job is to slowly and gently guide them as they become who God made them to be.  To give them the tools and experiences to be radical lovers of their neighbor and glorifiers of their Maker.  To slowly give over my control of them and teach them how to follow the Spirit in, sometimes difficult and dark places.  To love and engage with those who don't think they way they do.  To root and establish them in truth and love so that they can navigate the waters of diversion with courage, steadfastness and grace.  While some see this as a clear reason to increase my influence over them and their education, I realized it was a clear call to continue to send them to public school.

Over the next months God has continued to affirm our decision...for our family.

Here's how it played out.  I was subbing at the public school for the first time since this big battle in my heart started.  As I walked down the hallway it was as if the LORD was shining lights on certain kids; kids from great Christ-following families, great kids, who are influencing their friends in important ways. It was a clear message that 'Christian' does not equal 'homeschool'.  Not even close.  Something I knew, but needed to be reminded of.

Next was my struggle with having kids that are seemingly more capable than the grade level curriculum they are given.  I ran across a "First Day of School Letter" on Pinterest that really put my feelings into words.  It basically says "I don't send you to school to be the smartest, or best.  I send you to school to practice being kind." That resonated so deeply.  I don't really care if my kid is the smartest. GASP.  I don't.  Yes, I want him to be all God created him to be. I believe he can become that by moving at grade level pace with his peers.  I think all of my kids have the ability to do more than they are required, and I will continue to challenge their thinking here at home. (Because, I do still have time with them). But the fact that academics are easy will increase the time they have to practice loving.  If one of them proves to be an athletic type, well then we will encourage them to work hard, to lead well, to influence team members - to love well.  And if they win, great.  You see, I've adopted this montre that God isn't looking for superheros (or super smarties), He's looking for servants.  Public school is a great place for my kids to develop their love for their neighbor. So, yes, at home I could teach my nine year old algebra - but I can't teach him how to navigate the playground with his peers, how to pick out the kid in his class who bullies and encourage him to try to figure out his story.  He'll learn algebra with the others, and he'll still get to go to college, if that's what is in store, even though he didn't learn Latin.

My last and biggest hurdle was this idea that "good" parents homeschool.  That the sacrifice of time and sanity that it takes to homeschool is what "good" parents choose.  That somehow, sending your kids to school each fall, putting them on the bus each morning was easy.  That if I sent my kids to public school I somehow cared, even loved them less.  I love my kids. I miss them when they are at school.  I want to protect them from the evils of the world, from the names, and hurts they experience that I can't prevent.  Sending them to school is not easy.  It is a faith-filled, prayer covered, daily surrendered decision to let go of control.  An exercise in entrusting them to the one who loves them even more than I do.  This decision also makes it increasingly important to maximize the time I do have with them. To really engage with them in the waking hours they are home.  To spill my faith all over them while they are with me, and to intentionally parent beyond finishing homework and brushing teeth.  This, friends, is definitely not easy.

I recently finished Just Courage by Gary Haugen.  In the last few chapters came my latest confirmation, that our family's decision to stay in public school was right for us.  He talks about how you can't be brave and safe.  That Jesus calls us to risk, to give up security, to be brave.  Simply, I want to be brave.  I want brave kids that take risks for the kingdom.  For me homeschooling was safe, a way towards ensuring that I did whatever I could to produce skilled, successful, spiritual children. Public school is a courageous choice, for us.

Here comes the hard part, and I really want to be heard here.  I am not trying to convince anyone that public school is the "right" choice.  I don't want someone to ignore a call to homeschool.  I think there are certain families that are clearly called and follow in obedience into homeschooling.  I see great advantages to it.  However, I also see a lack of Christians offering their reasons for NOT homeschooling.  As I wrestled, it seemed that on one side were families that decide after careful consideration to homeschool, and on the other, families who don't consider how to educate their kids and, so, send them to public school as a default.  I wanted to speak on behalf of those who have carefully considered  and are following in obedience by choosing to send our kids to public school.

I also want you to hear this: How you choose to educate your children is highly specific to your family.  As I said before,  we make our choices based on what we believe to be best.  So, if you homeschool - you believe it's best. I choose to send my kids to public school, I think it's best.  We that take the time to consider would not choose something second rate.  Here is my request - that we not try to convince others of our "rightness".  That we not assume that our choice is best for everyone.

I also want to cover this whole post in grace.  I know there are a lot of controversial things in this discussion including the implication that things like 'loving your neighbor' cannot be practiced outside of a school setting.  I am not implying this.  I am only sharing part of the journey that I took in our decision.  I am not looking to defend my decision, or to put homeschooling families on the defensive.  I am simply, but apparently not briefly, sharing my experience.



Post Script - For inquiring minds, this is by no means an exhaustive list of reasons for our decision.  There are others, but as I have said, they are personal and specific to our situation. I also want to inform that before posting I had some homeschooling as well as public school parents read my post.  Their feedback was appreciated.

Back from Africa!

Well, I have been utterly terrible at updating this lately, but I did want to share at least a few pictures and a brief overview of my time in Uganda earlier this month. The trip ended up being more of a work trip than we expected which was fine.  We learned that in Uganda, you just go with the flow and usually have a pretty great time. An example of this was that Craig was preaching and we were staying with the head pastor and yet we left for church 20 minutes after it started.  But no big deal!  We had to give up our American values of promptness and planning - it was a great lesson.

So while we did see the kids from the orphan bases it wasn't much time with them. However, after meeting them and seeing them, we realized they are so well adjusted and cared for - there wouldn't be much for us to do. So, we relinquished our time with them to a couple of afternoons of playing.

4 of our 6 days in country were spent building this widow home - actually a 'duplex':

Day 1 - carrying pans of dirt to fill the floors.

Day 2 - carrying bricks - 2 by 2 - and mortar in the pans.

Day 3 - finishing up walls and the latrine.
This is the day I learned to lay brick using a plumb line and string.

Day 4 - Here is Agnes (left) and Sarah and her kids (right) who will live in the house.

The house (paid for by funds raised by the students of Third Church) allowed us the opportunity to work with some of the staff from FDLM as well as a number of the kids.  After the kids graduate from high school they basically wait their turn to attend college - which comes whenever David can get the $2000/year it costs to send 1 student.  While they wait they act as support staff and help on the orphan bases and with ministry projects like this one.  We also enjoyed help and time with the local village kids and women.

Here is a picture of all of us who worked on the house.  You'll hear more specifically about some of their stories later.

The Crew
Despite their faces here - they are such a joyful and social people...they do not however, like to smile for pictures. :)

David Zijjan (above on the right by Mark and Craig - in jeans) - the founder of Father's Divine Love Ministries and pastor of the church - has great vision on how to provide for the nearly 100 kids he directly supports and the additional 200 he supports via the widow program.  (In a nut shell - when you provide a permanent home and food for a widow, she is able to keep and care for her own children - ensuring they do not become orphans.)

One of the ways David is trying to become more self sustaining is by farming.  on Wednesday we travelled about and hour and a half from Jinja to the 50 acres he has bought and is preparing for farming.  He employs 3 men from the church who work the field and also another who acts as land supervisor.  The youth of third raised the money for this tractor that is necessary for field work as also is rented out for additional money.

The "muzunga" (white guy) had to give it a shot...we are from Iowa after all:

 

I look forward to sharing more of my thoughts and experiences, but laundry calls, as I slip back into life here.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to worship and work along side my brothers and sisters in Jinjga, Uganda.  I am also ever grateful for the better understanding I have of God and his heart for justice and His desire for us to care for the widow and orphan; to battle injustice.  I am also, of course, thankful to so many who made it possible for me to go. What a blessing.

Until later, 

Brystal

  

Birthday's are a Big Deal

I think birthday's are a big deal.  Not getting the perfect present, but taking a day to celebrate someone's existence on the earth.  That is why, and it comes as no surprise, that I make a big deal out of my kids' birthdays.  We talk about it and plan and make it a super celebration of them.  I secretly tuck away sweet memories of their favorite things from that year.  I don't let them choose the thing they are "into" that month. Oh no! We think about their year and what they have been really excited about, and make a  themed party and, my favorite part, the cake, to reflect it.


Two of my four have birthday's coming up in the next month.  I just sat talking with them about what kind of party and cakes they wanted.  I love to celebrate them on their birthdays. Each year while I work so carefully on that year's cake (this year is Little House On the Prairie for girlie), I take my time remembering the Barbie, and Princess, and tea party years, and store up all those times in my heart. I make their cakes my labor of love for them - really trying to capture their passions at that age. This was Tess' 5th b-day: a "Fancy Ladies" theme with a pink wedding cake.

Titus' cake last year.

Trace's most recent cake

My baby turns 4 this year and he is set on " 'Vengers" (the Avengers, but I don't correct him 'cause it's so cute!) and I can't help but remember how he's turned into a boy this year.  Last year's Curious George reminds me of his adventurous toddlerhood - and now, his fitting theme announces the fearless hero he's destined to be breaking through...even as he sits now at my feet dressed in his sister's black velvet skirt and white high heels, dressing a baby doll.

Just for fun, let's look back on my precious babies and their phases: (You can tell when I got my groove on in the cake decorating area - the earlier ones were years in training...or I was so tired from begin pregnant, cupcakes was all I could muster! :) )

Titus:
1 - Cupcakes with FunFetti frosting (But I did put him in a Grover onesie...how I wanted him to love Grover! )
2 - "T" for Trucks, Trains (Thomas, precisely), Two and Titus! (cupcakes again.)
3 - Lightning McQueen
4 - Checkered Flag (Racing)
5 - Lego Brick (and a Transformers)
6 - R2D2 (LEGO Star Wars)
7 - Mario (Nintendo)
8 - Comic Book

Tess:
1 - A Luau Theme
2 - Chocolate cake with Daddy.
3 - Barbie (the classic doll with a cake bowl skirt - I even cut her off at the knees - YIKES!)
4 - Tea Party
5 - Fancy Ladies
6 - Baking (this year I let the girls decorate the cake and my labor of love was making aprons for them)
7 - (coming up!) Little House on the Prairie

Trace:
1 - hmmm (I can't remember?! How Horrible is that??...And I can't find pictures?!)
2 - Tractor (John DEERE)
3 - Tractor (again...see I can now remember how long that phase was for our little worker man!)
4 - Angry Birds (40 cupcakes - individually decorated as birds...oh my, never again.)
5 - Phineas and Ferb

Trent:
1 - A "1" filled with M&M's
2 - Tractor (A red one) I'm pretty good at tractors...
3 - Curious George
4 - (coming up!) The Avengers

I know I should put pics of them up...once I figure out what's up with my photo storage site, I will...if I remember!

Thanks for remembering with me. Dang, I like them.

Africa or Bust!

I wanted to let you know about my upcoming trip to Uganda, Africa! If I was still on Facebook I might have created a status such as "Headed to Africa in August!!!" to announce.  But, I am excited to announce this way, and have a chance to tell you a little bit about the trip.

A small (5) group of us will travel to Jinja, Uganda from August 8 - 17.  We will be working with a man named Pastor David, the founder of Father's Divine Love Ministries.  His focus is on widow and orphan care.  The student ministries at our church, through the Heartwork organization,  has been supporting his work for about a year and has raised staggering amounts of money to fund wells, more homes, orphan care, and even a tractor.  This trip marks an advancement in our church's relationship with David and his ministry.

We will be spending as much time familiarizing ourselves with the multi-faceted workings of the ministry in the hopes of coming home and being advocates for the Ugandan people as well as for David and his ministry. He often has to pay the great price of leaving his family and the ministry for 2 - 3 week stints in America at times only to raise $5000.  To put it in perspective, every time he is able to build a new widow home his monthly operating costs rise approximately $1800/month. We also hope to document through photos and video the ways the students have impacted this community through their selfless and compassion-filled giving. 

As most of you know, justice and mercy have long been a mark on my life and heart, and I am excited to see what is in store for me as I very personally experience the plight of the widow and orphan in Uganda.  I have recently been in a stage of waiting and wondering what might be next for me and believe this may certainly be part of me discovering more about the plans for the next leg of my journey.  

I guess that is about it.  I would ask for your thoughts and prayers as I prepare to go, travel and experience Africa.  If you would like to be included in a group to receive updates and prayer requests email me or DM me on twitter: @brystalhopkins. 

Likewise, if you are led to help cover the costs (travel, specialized gear, shots, documents, etc.) of this adventure it is so appreciated. It looks to be around $2000 including airfare. 

You can send tax-deductible donations made out to Third Church to:

Third Church

708 E. 13th Street

Pella, IA 50219

check memo: Brystal Hopkins' Uganda Trip 

If the tax deduction isn't a factor you can feel free to use my home address.

Thanks so much for your thoughts and prayers for me and for Dave and the kids as I prepare to be gone and so far away. We are confident that there are big things in store for us as a result of what I experience in Jinja.

With excitement and gratitude, 

Brystal

From the Front Room

Well, it's Thursday evening and I find myself sitting in the dimly lit front room waiting for Dave to get home so we can watch "Iron Man 2".  I have been chasing the movie down for four days.  Stopping daily at the 3 Redbox's in town, checking for it online, all to no avail...then in a flash of hope I found that it was due today at the library and I swooped in and nabbed it. PHEW! It was a close one.

We've decided to try to watch several of these recently released MARVEL hero flicks before heading out to see "The Avengers"...apparently many others have had the same idea.  I've got my name in on reserve for "Captain America" - due tomorrow. I'm sleek and stealth like that.

So here are some other things that I have been thinking about:

• I had fruit snacks today. Sometimes they are so good! 
• T2 told me she sees her teacher's face more than mine, so sometimes she thinks I am her teacher when she glances at me. Not sure how to feel about that. Glad summer is coming.
• I prepped some frosting for T3's birthday cake.  The bakery assured me that the frosting would keep from my last March birthday cake - it tastes fine, but it stinks. I ordered fresh.
• I have to keep hiking my pants up today.  Are they too big? (YAY!) Or are my muffin tops pushing them down? (BOO)
• I made a nasty dinner tonight.  When the kids saw what I was making they were all, "sick! I am not eating that!" It's true I found myself trying to come up with excuses as to why I should have something else...all the while telling my whining kids they "should be thankful I am even making supper" and "you don't know you hate it until you try it.". We supplemented dinner with grilled brats...and drowned aforementioned nastiness in syrup. (Like Buddy the elf!)
• I got very little accomplished today. But T3 and I did read 2 chapters of Zorba the Hutt's Revenge. It's third in a series of who knows how many.  We've already tackled The Glove of Darth Vader, and The Lost City of the Jedi. Riveting I assure you.  So wonderful in fact, the children's librarian laughs at me every time she sees me heading back to that section for the next installment.  She likes to remind me that checking them out ensures that they stay on the shelf! Oh how I wish they weren't on the shelf. The thing that really bugs me is, much like the 'Left Behind' series, they so slowly move through the plot that each book leads into the next and the story never resolves...you have to read the next book! It's some sort of torture I'm sure. But T3 loves them...oh, the things we do for love.
• I'm looking for a nice, cozy, off the beaten path place to go for dinner on our 10th anniversary. My original plan of a local inn that serves a 5 course seasonal meal with wine pairings for each course fell through and now I'm back to the drawing board. Any suggestions? 

Well, Dave still isn't home and I've run out of even moderately interesting musings. 

So, I'll sign off.

Sweet dreams. 

BLUE LIKE JAZZ : 2 - Awkward

One of the most impact-full scenes in Blue Like Jazz for me was at the end (SPOILER ALERT) when Don finally addresses the Pope (a brilliant atheist friend of Don's at Reed College) in the 'confessional' after he has passed the position of Pope on to Don for the next year...it sounds weird and too hard to explain, but stay with me.

He has joined this friend in several offensive acts of vandalism and in the process has discovered that as a young boy he [the Pope] was very hurt by a leader of the church.  In this closing scene, Don puts his desire to be excepted by his friend on the line and apologizes (a bit on behalf of the church) for the hurt that was caused him...something the Pope didn't even realize Don had picked up on.  As Don, for seemingly the first time, dawns the door of a serious heart-to-heart the Pope comments, "This is about to get weird isn't it?" To which Don replies, "Probably."


Sometimes to take the step from buddies to friends we have to be willing to cross that threshold of "awkward". But I think often Christians invite themselves into these sacred of conversations with people they haven't earned the trust and respect of yet.  Often don't we see our not yet believing friends as projects?  Aren't we secretly waiting for that little comment that allows us to stick our foot in the door and leave it there even if the person inside has decided they'd rather shut it?

I am not saying that spiritual conversation has to be limited to deep friendships and that opportunities don't present themselves in less intimate settings and relationships, but I am saying that sometimes we rush these conversations to the point of not being as effective as they might be if we sat back and really listened, invested, loved and spoke out of a deep conviction and love for that person.  To wait until the conversation is less about conversion and more about restoration. (Not to imply that conversion is not important.)

It's just that in this scene it struck me that this character [the Pope] had spent a decade or more defaming the church, God, and anyone who was silly enough to believe - and yet without knowing befriended one of these sillies [Don] and in the end was deeply effected when that friend-who hadn't spent their relationship preaching, but listening and loving-finally took that step. The Pope opened the door and invited Don inside. You see, the 'awkward' conversation was atypical for their friendship, but it wasn't offensive or insensitive.  It was weird.  They put that out there and forged ahead into it together, and the result was beautiful.

Sometimes, I think it would be easier if I wasn't known as a Christian.  Is that horrible?  I don't know.  There is just so much hurt and preconceived notions about "Christians".  I would love it if I lived in such a way that I reflected Jesus and people like the Pope wanted to be around me, and in the end I would authentically love them enough to have that "weird", hope-filled, restorative, conversation. And that they would love me back enough to listen.

The Potty Problem

I've felt like my blog posts are much to serious most of the time.  In fact , if you don't know me, you might think me quiet and contemplative, when most of the time I am neither of those.  I love to have fun.  I love to laugh.  I wouldn't be characterized as "quiet" by anyone...so why is my blog so...I don't know - serious?

I think it might be because I often use my blog time to work through the things that I muse on throughout my otherwise mundane days.  When I sit to write and think, I'm not that keen on dwelling on, what is to me, ordinary.  I want to feel like I am engaged in worthwhile thought and often stories of the lunch conversation, while funny, don't seem life-changing.

Today however, my blog is my venting spot for something much less earth-shattering than some former topics. Today I lament the adventure I find myself on for a fourth time. One I wish was over. The burden of potty training.

I have successfully trained three kids - almost effortlessly.  That fact itself might be enough for some of you to believe I deserve what I am getting - which is an approaching one year anniversary of trying to toilet train my youngest.  Yes, reread that. One YEAR.

My other three were pretty much getting the hang of things by 2 1/2.  T4 wasn't showing much interest and everyone always said,  "He'll let you know when he's ready."   I thought, "I'm not really in that much of a hurry. I've changed diapers for 6 years, what's a little longer?"  and "The longer I wait the easier it'll be." Boy was I wrong.

My precious littlest is not being defiant or ornery.  He just isn't getting the hang of it.  He's filled up sticker charts, he's moved marble 'potty points', he's picked a toy and earned it off the top of the fridge. He even spent a glorious 2 weeks last summer naked.  (Much to my elderly neighbor's chagrin.) Still, no dice...or deuce, I guess is more like it.

I thought perhaps in my 'busy mom of 4' I was just not being consistent enough - too busy with chores to take him or not watching for his cues close enough. If I would just buckle down, he would get it.  Then,  a few months ago he spent a week with my mom, and unfortunately she notice he doesn't give any cues.  No matter how long he sits on the toilet - the duty always appears in the pants and not the potty.

SIGH...big sigh.

So, now we've got preschool, and art center, and the pool on the horizon.  Not to mention my severe disdain for changing a teenager's diaper (I know I am overreacting). So after 8 years of parenting, I bought cloth diapers. We're trying a cloth diaper liner in undies with plastic pants (to save our 4 month old carpet from the demise of it's predecessor.) And the reward for a turd is a family trip to the local ice cream shop.

I could really use some ice cream.

BLUE LIKE JAZZ : 1 - Setting

One of the most interesting things about Blue Like Jazz for me was reading the reviews after opening weekend, before it opened near me - before I saw it.  One of the criticisms was that the portrayal of Reed College was over the top and sometimes unnecessarily vulgar.  After seeing it, I was under the impression that these critics were probably much like myself. Inexperienced. Sheltered. Tucked away in my holy huddle.

 My realization that I have never really been out of my comfort zone spiritually was a tough one to swallow.  I have rarely experienced life outside of Christian webs of support.  Don't read me wrong:  I have and do operate in non-Christian circles, but my Christian support is never far away. Even when I was in Mongolia I was there with fellow believers.  As I studied in the collegiate theatre world, I had my Campus Ministry friends waiting each night as I came home.  I wonder how true this is for others.  How often do we operate outside of Christian, or at the least moral, company?  I believe for most of us the answer is: rarely.

This then leads me to ask the question: How often did Jesus operate outside of expected Jewish circles? The answer a resounding: often.  He would not have been surprised by the best-friend lesbian, the atheist genius, the author cynic.  He wouldn't have been surprised by them, he would have befriended them. Known them, loved them. He would have taken the time to figure out why they were that way.  Just as he took the time to invest in the swindler, the embezzler, the liar, the whore.

I had to laugh at the portrayal of the church - not because it was so hokey (and it was!) but because it is so accurate.  Seeing it so plainly was almost comical.  We think that puppets and pinata crosses will minister to a generation that is growing up with school shootings and pornography and cutting.  We really have no idea what we are up against, and when we see a real portrayal of how yearning souls live out their longing, we assume it's "over the top". It's not.  It's scandalous, and offensive, and very real.

But it's more than just the culture that offends - Christians tend to forget that the culture is made up of people.  People who make decisions because on a life they have lived.  Because of a parent they have lost.  Because of a hurt that hasn't healed.  Because of a truth they have never known.  Because of a treasure they haven't found, a freedom they so desperately want.

I don't know what it is like to be in a culture where if you believe in God, then you are labeled "foolish", "stupid", "close-minded". I mean on a small scale I know this - but I have never been ashamed.  But I can see how I so easily could be.  Blue Like Jazz made me ask the questions - Have I ever dared go where my faith is persecuted? Would I go if I was called to such a place - alone? Would I stand if I went?  What does it look like to love my neighbor as myself when all of my neighbors are the 'heathens' I've spent my whole life learning how to avoid relationship with?  What do I think of he ways I was brought up in "church" and how has that effected how I operate in the desperate and broken and wonderfully diverse waiting-to-be-free world?

CHARACTER: Me

SETTING: Christian, Moral Community - easy
SETTING: Broken, Real World - messy

CONFLICT: I've been called to more mess than ease. So now what?

Cross it off the Bucket List!

Tonight, I cross this off my bucket list:

"See my name on the big screen"

I should clarify that I don't think this was consciously on my Bucket List; but after seeing it there and the excitement that I  felt throughout the production process it marks something significant for me.  Dave and I financially supported the film in it's creation phase and therefore my name (Dave knew this was more my cup of tea) appeared with 3,000 of my fellow Associate Producers.  It's been fun getting a personal call from the director (although Dave did hijack that experience :) ), and having input on some things like the promotional poster as well as hearing the stories from production. The whole story of the film's birth is unique and I am glad I was part of it.

I'll begin a series of posts that share some of my thoughts and responses to the movie over the next few days.

My quick review is this:

If you take seriously the call to love God and love others - or wrestle with what that looks like in an authentic context, you should see this movie.  If you are passionately in love with the American church and hesitant to admit the ways it has misrepresented Christ, you may be offended.  If you are not a Christian and you are intrigued by  non-religious, thought provoking issues about God and life, you should see this movie.

This movie did not leave me feeling good; it's not tidy. There are some things that purposefully (I believe) don't resolve (re: jazz). But my wheels are turning and I am thinking about how I live my life and what I think about God and Christianity and my story, and my heart is soft. I laughed (a lot) and cried and wanted to clap as the credits rolled - but I didn't because I was holding on to the contemplative atmosphere that was in the theater.

I did point and yell "There I am! There's my name!" when it scrolled up. I dont; suppose that helped the mood. Oh well.

Wouldn't you know it; I was the only 'Brystal'. ;)

Father Time is a Tortoise

I watched a friends precious girls today.  It is good for me to get a baby back in my hands every once in a while. Today I dug out my sling and carried Sweet Baby Girl to the park, all snuggled and sleeping against my chest.  I miss those days. As I watched the other three munchkins run ahead on the sidewalk, laughing and squealing I just took a deep breath and did my best to slow time. A few blocks later I watched them run the bases of a local Little League field, felt the sun on my face, shielded Baby from the cool breeze, I again breathed deeply of that sweet moment.

Forget the laundry, the pillows I've been meaning to re-cover, the jungle of weeds waiting to become something beautiful. My "to do's" and lists often make me feel like there aren't enough hours in the day.  But when I don't rush him, Father Time can be as persistently and pleasantly slow as a tortoise. 

My oldest just turned 8. Time does fly. But I wouldn't want it to stop. There are so many more things to discover with each new season and stage.  I don't wish it to stop, but I don't want to rush it either. I think the difference is mostly perspective.  Today, I didn't try to accomplish a bunch. I took each hour at a time and gave myself to what was in front of me. I said "yes" instead of "maybe later".  A walk to the park,  a chat with a friend, books at nap time, coloring Easter eggs after school (better late than never?!), dinner and opera singing in the kitchen before baths, bowling, and bed. When I look back on today I didn't waste it, but I also didn't over plan it.
I am learning, that there is value in the seasons of slow.  I tend to be one who is always looking for the next big thing.  My next project, cause, assignment, change.  But I think I am being called into a season of slow and steady.  Not just "un-busy-ness" but a season where I learn to value time - to use it well. Not necessarily the most efficiently, but the most effectively. Take walks, do crafts, read books, ask questions, seek answers, listen.

How do I quit rushing time by filling it so full it's always about to spill over with the tiniest jolt? How do I manage it in a way that keeps my responsibilities accomplished, but makes my mind resist the endless list-making?

I want more days like today.

The Blink of and Eye

In general I am not a fearful person.  I don't tend to be a worrier.  I tend to have the attitude that worrying can't really change anything or ensure that bad things won't happen. I also have a pretty strong inclination to respond to tough situations with "Well, can't do anything about what has happened so how do we move on from here?!"  However sometimes, those times I've heard people's stories of their lives changing in an instant - an accident, an illness, a disaster - come to mind and I do find myself thinking about "What if..."

What if I found myself with only a few months to live - what would I want my kids to know. What would I want to say to them about life and love and faith.  What if an accident suddenly stripped me of one of my kids or my husband. How would I react?  How could I ever move on?  What if we lost our home in a fire, tornado, flood - What would I do differently as we started over.  In all of this the one thing that I cling to is the fact that I have been given this great hope in my faith.  I have this sense of  "being 'okay' no matter what".

However, I have seen people actually face these situations it sometimes feels like they shouldn't be okay.  That somehow when they appear to keep plugging away at life in spite of the massive tragedy that has inflicted them there is some denial they're adopting.  What I often forget is that when your life is deeply rooted in something that is not of this life; when one has died to herself and taken on the hope of eternity, that these things - while horribly upsetting, indescribably difficult, and deeply painful - do not have to be the things that ruin and destroy.  They do probably spur on the desire for the ever-after. They assuredly do make one ask questions and reinforce the fact that we are not our own life-architects.  But the peace that may, and does often, ensue in the face of life altering circumstances for those with a hope and future, is something very mysterious, and beautiful.

May I not hold so tightly to this life.  May I build worthwhile structures on solid ground. May I cling to the Prince of Peace, and hope for my life ever-after. Ultimately, may I place my future - and the future of my family - in the hands of the one who is able and who knows, and loves so inexplicably. And may I be thankful for each day.

My Vacation History Lesson

Dave and I just got back from a trip to the 'low country' - Savannah and Charleston.  A trip in celebration of the 10 years of marriage that we will, Lord willing, mark this May.  We opted to get out while temps were still manageable in the south and before roofing season really picks up. (So is the life of a roofing contractor :) ) It also worked out nicely that the kids could spend Spring Break in Arkansas with my folks.

We took thorough tours of each of these cities, spent some time at Middleton Plantation, and also visited Fort Sumter - where the first shots of the Civil War were fired. In fact we took in a lot of Civil War history.  You can't visit the low country and not hear about, see about it and almost nearly taste it.  The Civil War in the south is not so quickly forgotten as it seems to be by us Yankees, up north.  And there is no doubt - the Civil War was fought over slavery - and therefore freedom.

Now, having grown up and having been educated in the north, I have long read the history books that seem to imply that the north was full of moral and ethical, level headed cherubs led by the brave Ulysses S. Grant. While the south, led by the rebellious and pompous Robert E. Lee, was full of hateful, prejudiced, money hungry bullies. They treated the African slaves like work horses and considered them property. While this may be true (and probably is) I got a very different picture of this while in the south.

As I now understand it, Abraham Lincoln, newly elected president at the time, was foremostly concerned with maintaining the Union.  If he could have done this and kept slavery as a means of southern manufacturing, he may have. (See his comments in the Lincoln - Douglas debates.)  In fact originally the debate was over the fact that he was of the opinion that any new state added to the Union should be a free state. The south saw this as a threat; the first step towards taking their workforce away. Taking away their power in government and their participation in the formation of the growing country. The ways of the north would take over and their identity and freedoms lost.  It sounded a bit too much like what they had just fought to regain from Britian.

You see, slavery had been prevalent since the establishment of our country. When the settlers arrived they virtually created a working class out of the Native Americans that were here.  A race specific group that they used to produce the things that they needed to settle the unfamiliar land.  Eventually they expanded and imported another race - Africans - to help them.  In the south the Africans that were familiar with rice crops were especially handy.  In the north, African labor forces helped settle the untamed land.  However, the crops in the north, and the industry therefore, didn't require the manual labor like the southern plantations, and so the need for such a labor force diminished.  The north was surviving just fine without the slave labor of Africans, and so people began to believe the south should follow suit.  What the northerners didn't consider was the fact that their money was driving much of the demand for slavery.  You see, they wanted their southern goods of rice, tea, cotton and tobacco at the same cost and quality as they had come to expect - yet they wanted the production of such products to change almost completely.  Southern plantation owners were left with a big dilemma - they couldn't maintain their standard of living - their profits - if they didn't have slaves.

I'll stop my history lesson here and move on to the great revelation that I had, or was reminded of.  Things have not changed. Although the trans - Atlantic slave trade was abolished in this country in 1808, the same dilemma faces us over 200 years later.  A cost is incurred at some point.  We want our stuff cheap - and so we feed the engine that takes the freedom of 27 million people to make it that way.  You see, the women in the textile mill that makes our $7 t-shirt cannot be paid well.  The factory owner cannot maintain good working conditions because we want our t-shirt to be cheap and he wants his profit. We want an $.88 chocolate bar, so the cocoa that made the chocolate can't come from a farm where goods are fairly traded and workers are fairly compensated. For that to happen you would have to be willing to spend $4 on your chocolate bar and $20 on your t-shirt.  That would cramp our American standard - of - living style! You see, even though we may stand, like the northern abolitionists, and say "No More Slavery", we are unwilling to sacrifice the cheap convenience that slavery allows us. A steep price is paid one way or the other.  Instead of tightening our belts and reigning in our spending, we have chosen to tighten the chains of injustice around the lives of the poor and powerless. We really have.

It says somewhere that money is the root of all evil. Or the love of it...or the fear of not having it...
The evil of human trafficking, and child-labor, and forced labor, and all the other injustices around our country and our world are rooted very deeply in...and if not rooted, they are well fed and watered by, money - your money.

I suspect many might say, "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't afford to pay the higher prices..." and I am there with you.  I still buy candy occasionally in the check out line - but I do it knowing that I feed the machine. I have changed some of the more simple things, like spending a little more to buy free and ethically traded coffee - and drinking it a little less so our budget doesn't feel it quite so much. Like buying gifts at our local fair trade store (there is one near you, and prices are not more than you would spend elsewhere.) I also use websites and apps like free2work to see what brands and companies are working to purify their supply chains and try to buy from them and not from those whose bottom dollar means supply chains they'd rather keep quiet.  I also took this assessment  that helped me better understand my "slavery footprint". (My spending and lifestyle could result in me having the equivalent of 53 slaves working for me.)  I also partner with organizations like IJM and Not For Sale to keep up to date on developments in government legislation and other abolitionist movements. Would you choose your first step and join me?

I do believe that slavery, in all it's forms - industrial, sexual, labor - is wrong. And I suspect that most people would stand with me in that. I am also convinced that it isn't enough to believe that slavery is wrong, to say that I want the injustice to stop, and not change my life to reflect that belief.



PS - Let's not get nit picky with my history here...you get the point - whether my dates are spot on or not. :)

That is a Spade

NOTICE: I want you to know that, due to a deceased motherboard, I no longer have a computer at home, and blogging without one is, obviously, difficult. I am now using Dave's iPad that he generously left home for me today. My first post from an iPad, exciting stuff. (Forgive my typing deficiencies as a result) Posts may be scarce until I'm set up with a new computer... Moving on...today in my thought/study time I came across something quite convicting...which is a fancy way of saying that it made me feel guilty, or more accurately, I realized I was guilty. There is this little verse in James 4 that goes something like, "change your laughter to mourning and your joy to sorrow." Back up the truck! I thought it was "turn your mourning to dancing, joy comes in the morning"?! Upon further reflection and instruction I was able to see that this more was referring to those times when I do indeed need to 'back up the truck' and take note of how I have taken joy in the pleasures of the world, and in so doing have defamed the name of Christ. The times I have participated in the laughter over a fellow believer's ridicule. The times I have watched a program that I knew I had no business indulging in as a believer. The many times I have thought myself so superior. The ways I have jumped in the sack with the world, and enjoyed it, and justified it. Over those times, and seasons of my life I need to mourn. I need to recall the times I've acted as though God wasn't serious when he said "flee from sin!" Like I might be somehow the one who could play with fire and not get burned. I need to take by the throat the thoughts that have so often let me off the hook because my sin isn't THAT bad, or as bad as it could be. The things I have not been really that sorry about. Pride, envy, greed, conceit, self-righteousness, slander... The sad truth is, I have a hundred excuses why I have displayed all these and more. My friends may try to comfort me that there is truth in the excuses. We do that to each other don't we. I tell you that your bitterness is 'understandable'. You tell me that my pride is 'deserved'. I say things like "with all due respect" when I really mean none at all. Today James called a spade a spade. And made me do the same. Let's be honest, there is some need for tears, real mourning, over the glory I have stolen from the Almighty; the sorrow I have caused my Father; the hurt I have heaped on my brothers and sisters. And the bits of pleasure I have taken in doing so. The hope in it all - the joy in being restored to life and the freedom of being out from under sin's deceitful veil. The hope of a new day, even before tomorrow's dawn. Fast and free forgiveness. Let's not leave on that note. Let's recall the promise of "no condemnation for those whose are in Christ Jesus." Let's cling to the truth that we are made in the image of a holy God, to do good works and live in freedom and joy. Let's be so thankful for a redeemed life that is in the process of being refined. Today I began to see a little more luster in the gold as a result of that refining fire. Thank you Lord!

Yellow Valentine

Okay, so I haven't been great at consistency over the last week or so, but I'm back.  Now to remember all the things I was going to blog about... At this minute I can't think of one.

 Just a sec...

I'll think of one...

Oh, yeah! No wait, that will take way longer than I have...

ummmm...

uhhh...

right. Here's one:

My 6 year old daughter is pretty nearly my twin in every way.  I mean sometimes she can read my thoughts! Love her.  She however hasn't grasped my need for organization and neatness.  (Some who have seen my house won't believe I have grasped this, but 'tis true).  When her kindergarten teacher gave the class the 'go ahead' to bring valentines, Tess could not wait one day.  She had 9 days to bring them in but she had to make them immediately.  I suggested that we could take a trip to the local discount store to get red and pink construction paper or glitter or just to get some inspiration from the craft aisle, but she was dead set on grabbing the 12 year old legal pad my mom had brought in a stack that she purchased at an estate sale.  Yes, the yellow lined paper that you are thinking of quickly became 23 hearts...that then got taped together to look like snow cone cups.  She quickly scribbled each name on their own "heart" (really you can't even tell they are hearts anymore.) I cringed and my inner Martha Stewart wailed and I couldn't help but say, "why don't you add a little picture or note on each one".  this is my child that LOVES to color and draw and decorate - but at this point getting them finished and ready for taking to school was of the utmost importance. So, she quickly scratched 'It's Valintines (nice phonics?) Day!' on some, and drew one colored pictures with soon-to-be dry markers on others.  And now for 3 days has been begging to take them to school, where the candy hearts we will put inside would be left to get hard and even nastier than they inherently are.

But through it all, I [mostly] kept my mouth shut.  There was a time that I would have refused to let her give those valentines, or I would have hijacked the project and made them pretty or at least cute, or at the very least neatly written - because I would have been overly concerned about what the teacher or other student's parents might have thought.  I am not claiming the urge has completely subsided, but I am less concerned with my appearance to others and more interested in Tess giving something that is truly from her.  I'm not sure she won't get to the Valentine's Day party and see some of the cute treats and cards that she gets and wishes she had thought and planned a bit more (I have passed on a bit of taste...). But she may not.  She may be perfectly happy with her legal pad paper creations.  And I will keep one in her memory box and pull it out in 15 years and remember more about her than if it had been a store-bought Barbie card, or cute-crafty thing I made.

I just love seeing them become who they are.
These little glimpses are so precious.

I also see how I have grown a little more into who I am.

The Weirdo in the Lobby

I liken it to the nurse who hands the doctor his scalpel on cue, or the guy who keeps the painters pallet full of paint. Perhaps the typesetter of the author's words ready for print. In any case the artist is the creator and the assistant just does as they are told; sometimes even without knowing what that creator is up to. The old "just do what you are told and don't ask questions." However, yesterday, and I assisted, I found myself with just that: questions.

Here's how it played out.  For those who are little weirded out, no worries, so was I.   I value the community and discipline of going to church on Sunday mornings so it wasn't a surprise to find me there yesterday.  One way I am able to really connect with God in a service is through music.  I often will sing the guy in front of me's toupee off, and have been known to hit Dave upside the head as my arms raise in a deeply worshipful time for me.  Yesterday was no different - at first.

As I worship I often feel that I am able to hear God's whisper of a voice in my heart more clearly than during the hustle and bustle of other life happenings. Yesterday the whisper was loud and clear.  He wanted me to leave my hands raised for the entire service. Now I was okay with this as long as there was music going on, but as I became more convinced he was serious, I moved to the back of the auditorium, realizing that this was and would be strange.

As worship ended and the sermon began I was going on a bout six minutes of hands raised in the air, I knelt down so as not to draw attention to myself, but that was the least of my worries.  My arms were beginning to really hurt. I remembered that God had once asked a guys named Moses to do this same thing, and I also remembered that he had some help with the difficult physical task. I left the auditorium in hopes of finding some kind soul out in the lobby who could help me keep my arms raised, or tell me I was crazy and relieve me of my obligation.

That is what I felt like it was.  Yes, it was my choice to obey, and I just as easily could have given up and chalked another one up to the human condition, but I felt like it was very important that I follow through.  This was no small ask, and the weight of it rested heavy on my soul.

I found in the lobby those who had lead us in musical worship, a group of people that I know well and feel very open with.  As I approached them, hands in the air, I opened my mouth and the tears started flowing. "I feel like I am supposed to keep my arms raised for the whole service and it is really starting to hurt!" Without a question or even a hesitation two of them grabbed an arm each and helped me stay obedient. A third came over and said "I saw you and I knew you were supposed to keep them raised all service." This was the kind of confirmation I needed to know that I wasn't just hearing things, that God was for real asking me to do this. And so I endured.

They helped me find a bit more private of a spot in the lobby and they stood by me, holding my arms and praying for me - even wiping my tears and snotty nose when needed. I cried, I cried in pain and I cried for reasons I don't know.  I literally had the thought, "Maybe the Lord spared me from the pains of labor (I had 4 c-sections) because he knew he was going to ask me to endure this pain."

One of those precious sisters that was with me realized that my calling to do this was likely somehow connected to the fact that later on in the service there was going to be a call to engage in the freeing of women who are caught in the horrid black market trade of sex trafficking.  (As some may or may not know a bout a year ago I lead a local campaign, Free|Five, to raise awareness and funds for the battle against human trafficking. This issue and justice for the poor and the oppressed are sort of passions of mine.) I did not know that the service would head this way but they did because they had taken part in the service prior to this one. Once this was revealed the pieces started falling into place for me intellectually and the tears began to flow all the harder as I felt the burden of freedom for the captives.  I just kept thinking, "If I have to endure pain for a short while so that they can have freedom I will do it, I will do it!"

They supported me and walked with me through the pain and the foolishness that onlookers must have thought it was. And finally after about 35 minutes, the service ended and I felt released to put my arms down, ouch.

It was a difficult few minutes as I had to walk the halls of the church gathering my kids and dodging the eyes of people who wanted to ask, "What in the world happened to you?" and "What's wrong?" I had no more make-up on, my eyes burned and my face was red and swollen. Not to mention I had to keep shaking my arms to warm them up and get them back to normal.

I didn't really want to tell anyone.  I was glad to have shared the experience with a few that could support me and help me process if needed, but I didn't (and don't) feel like it was my thing. What happened to me? Somebody [God] just asked "Would you help me with something?" and I said "Sure.".  "What's wrong?" People are bought, sold and treated like animals.  

Some have praised me for my obedience, and I am glad that I was entrusted with the task of partnering with God, but I don't think this experience was about my ability or willingness to obey.  As I have been thinking today, and asking the many questions that yesterday's experience has left me with, I was brought back to that story of Moses.  (For those interested it is found in the Old Testament book of Exodus, Chapter 17.)
To sum it up, the people of God, the Israelites, were under the attack of Amalek. While Moses' arms were raised the Israelite army prevailed, if he ever dropped his hands, they were overtaken. Moses, with the help of his brother and a close friend,  raised his hands to heaven until the Israelites defeated Amalek.  Later on it says that 'the LORD will be at war with Amalek from generation to generation.'

As I thought about this I thought about the absolute evil that exists in the practice of human sex trafficking.  I believe that there is a very real war waging for the freedom of those unjustly caught in it's darkness.  I believe that the LORD will be at war with the darkness that enslaves from generation to generation.  He will continue to call upon his people to fight those battles in many ways. If my part is painfully and foolishly holding my hands to heaven then I will do it. I'll be a fool if it means freedom, for them...and for me.

The Lone Ranger

I like to do things by myself.  I often have the attitude of "if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." However, today I embarked on an experience that I could not complete on my own.  I had to to have help or I would have failed, and I felt that wasn't an option.  Needing other people is a humbling thing.  Asking people to join you in a not so glamorous endeavor is not easy.  Feeling the fool isn't fun. But obedience is life giving, and participating with others in life giving experiences establishes deep community.  I am thankful for those who helped me, who played the fool with me, and who supported me so I could complete my mission.

But why is it that, even though life is so much more enjoyable a midst other wayfarers, we so often isolate ourselves.  The Lone Ranger was mysterious, but he was 'lone'.  I mean, I 'm sure Silver was lovely, but I'll take some human contact and conversation over the equestrian kind any day. Yet, I so often choose the lonely life.  I don't share my struggles or even triumphs with others.  Maybe it's some attempt at self-protection or false humility, maybe it's easier to stay disengaged. Maybe it's easier to keep to myself so that I am not accountable for follow through (see previous post :) ). Whatever the reason, by having the mindset that the easiest path is the one I walk alone, I miss out on so much life.

Me? Opinionated?

Some of you will laugh at my title.  I am opinionated.  I am not really that reserved when it comes to sharing what I think.  Unfortunately, the desire multiplies when I am being critical of something or someone.  I do need to learn to differentiate between my opinions and my judgmental nature.

One of my strongest 'gifts' is critical evaluation...I made that term up.  But for real, I seem to have a unique ability to look at a situation, event, program, __________ fill in the blank, and identify what is working, what isn't, and how it should be changed to work more effectively and excellently.  Either that or I am a hopelessly critical, know-it-all; which is entirely possible. I hope this is something that I am intended to use for good, and I want to.  However, when it comes to sharing my observations with those who aren't that interested in feedback it leaves me stewing.  I mean, who doesn't want to do whatever they are doing more excellently?! But again, it is only my [not always that] humble opinion.

It is true that the tongue is the hardest to tame, and I really do want to use mine for encouraging and uplifting. I need to choose my words wisely; share my opinions when they are constructive and done so with an appropriate attitude of humility.  Good thing I have a blog so I can vent. ;)

BookWorm

I can't deny it, I love a good book.  I am in the middle of the 'Anne of Green Gables' series and just love how I can get lost in the fun and imagination of a good story.  However,surprisingly, I find myself more fired up and entranced by a good academic study.  I am studying the biblical book of James under the tutelage of the very insightful Beth Moore. I just can't reproduce the stunning feeling of the light bulb going off when I make a connection.  I will resist spewing all the fascinating facts that I learned today, because I wouldn't want to rob you of your light bulb moments if you ever get your chance to uncover them.  Just know that while a good fiction story can warm your heart and even satisfy your soul...there is just nothing like the genius of the way the greatest story ever told is weaved together...how cliche, forgive me...but it is!

Why don't I devour it more consistently? It's so good!

Follow Through

My dad played collegiate basketball and coached at that level as well.  Needless to say, I rarely just 'shot around' in the driveway without at least his voice in my head reminding me to keep my elbow in and to follow through.  I've never been great at follow through.

As I am finding out now, this holds true to more than just my jump shot. I'd much rather concentrate on the launch than the follow through in most things.  My preferences lie in the dreaming and scheming of things.  I'd rather leave the execution and up-keep to others.  I mean I love idea generating, brainstorming, analyzing, logos, plans. But, man, I get bored fast.  Is there a job that just plans things, launches them, and then hands them off, cause that's what I should do.  That, or I should just keep working on my follow through... I hear ya Dad!

To Everything, Turn

'Change' - not a word I have ever been a fan of.  I do like the refreshing feel of freshly changed sheets and a rearranged living room once in a while.  But I work hard to make things work in the way I want them to so they can stay that way.  I like routine, and don't do well with the unexpected or unknown.

Tomorrow Dave's cousin, Scott, who has lived with us since April is packing it up and heading back to Ohio.  It's hard for me to not try to convince him of his 'mistake' of leaving. But I am reminded that he is an adult, and that he has no responsibilities or commitments holding him back from making these kids of freedom laced decisions. But I don't like change, and I don't like good-byes either.  So, I want to put my motherly foot down and spare my actual children the hurt of losing someone they [we] have come to love so much. But I won't. To everything there is a season, and the season of 'guy living in the basement' is over. We'll stand in the driveway waving goodbye and I'll hate change once again. Yet, somehow still wait excitedly to see what change is coming next. Turn, turn, turn...

Front or Back?

A while back I read a story by an author who enjoyed writing at a window that overlooked his yard.  He was, at the time wrestling with a decision; wondering what God wanted him to do. As he looked out that window he saw his children playing in the yard.  He wondered how he would respond if his children asked him if they should play in the front yard or the backyard. (A question much like the one he was asking God.) He chuckled as he realized that he didn't really care where they played.  He just wanted then to play.   He then wondered if this is often how God responds to us when we struggle so hard to make a decision between two good things - really leaving it up to us - as long as we engage.

I am wrestling with one of those decisions. Last night, in fact,  it weighed quite heavy on my mind.  I don't remember mentally writhing over something so much in my adult life. Now, granted it is bigger than, "where do we vacation this year" or "who should I call for coffee" - much bigger.  But I wonder if I am feeling so 'un-led' because He has freed me to decide - and He waits ready to affirm and bless whatever that choice is.  

I don't think the wrestling is over for me. I think the wrestling is good for me, and perhaps God has just not revealed his preference to me yet.  But practicing the arts of listening and waiting are valuable lessons in any situation; I won't rush it...even though I would really like to speed up the process.

Starting Simple

A friend of mine encouraged me to write...everyday, no matter what, whether profound or not, so I have a few minutes and will write.

As some may or may not know I lead a team of abolitionists this last year in a fund and awareness raising project called Free|Five. Our goal was to raise $25000 and to fund 5 rescue operations through the organization International Justice Mission.  We surpassed our goal in 7 months and I was quickly on to another big project: directing the local community theater's summer musical.  I knew after this that there would be no more projects for a while. I had been slowly wrapping up other commitments and felt that I was supposed to have a pretty wide open schedule once school started in late August. Check.

I have to admit that not having a project was difficult for me at first, difficult and wonderful.  I have now settled into a much more laid back season.  I am home most evenings, have my housework done (relatively regularly) by the time the kids are in bed, and have enjoyed relaxed evenings with my husband. It has allowed me one of my many joys as a mother - reading with Tessie each night.  We are nearing the end of the third book in the Little House series "Farmer Boy".  I am inspired by the industrious matriarchs in these books!  I now know how they got so much done everyday...they worked hard!  They were focused and not distracted by time wasters like online shopping and facebook...I mean, uh, what?  They brought their children alongside them and taught them as they worked.  Taught them valuable lessons like how to work hard, how to manage their money, how to work together, how to sacrifice for one another.  They gave them good gifts like these, and tin cups and cows. Wait, what?  Really, I am inspired by their simple lives.  No need to stress about college funds or braces. Just putting in the work to ensure there is enough love and potatoes to go around today. And enough of those things in the cellar to make sure we make it through the winter.

I am beginning to understand why I was led to slow down. To scale back even the things that were "good" so that I could see and appreciate the very simple and precious gifts that are my family and my time. I am no longer looking toward what might be next for me, but learning to spend today - living today...and working diligently at storing up spiritual fruits in the cellar of my soul so that I am prepared and ready for whatever tomorrow might bring.

Resolutions - Blog Style

I'll just be honest: I am disappointed in this blog. I wanted this to be a place where I could share me thoughts, my struggles, my projects -whatever, but it has become a place that I occasionally write about a program I watched, with little reflection or purpose. I don't even watch that much TV?!

 I do have interesting and compelling thoughts. I have wonderful experiences. I have advice to share. And yet I choose to write about television. How safe.

 So my new year blogging resolution is to write more about what is really happening in the 'creative chaos' of my life and mind, and not just hurried ramblings that amount to little more than glorified facebook status updates. To write more honestly and thoughtfully. To not publish everything right away, but to sit with it and mold it until it is a good and accurate reflection of who I really am and what I think and feel.

 I am resolving to dust off my blogging shoes and try again.