Psst!

So, you know how I mentioned that I'd give away a sweet little baby sweater when my facebook group hit 300 likes?

I'm upping the ante a bit.

And I'm wondering....

What is your opinion of handknit socks?

What if they were made just for you?

Your size, your color choice.


What would you think?

Well....I've decided.  At 300 likes, I'll give away that sweater to a lucky facebook fan.

And I'll also cast on for a pair of socks for another lucky winner!

How to enter?  Why, just click "like" on my facebook page!  To help me get to 300 faster, share with your friends!

It's that easy.

The One Way to Truly Live Fulfilled

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Phillipians 1:21

It's the question whispered at graduation parties.  Some answer with ready smiles.  Others chew the inside of their lips, nervous, scuffing the ground with the toe of their graduation-day shoes.

It's the same question I ask my husband every year or so, during those hard, late night conversations when the future feels so uncertain.  That muscle in his cheek clenches.  I look away.

"What do you WANT?  What do you want to DO with your life?  What are your plans?"

Ironic.  If the question was posed to me, I'd have a half dozen answers.  I've got more than enough dreams to fill a lifetime of lists.  That's why that answer of his confounds me.

"I don't know.  I've told you that."

We decided my path a long time ago.  That's why I'm not the one being asked.  Maybe that's why this answer feels like a hard kick to my chest.  I love my life.  I would not live out these years any other way than right here, baby on my lap, the center of my home.  But were I the one asked?  I'd take that chance, chase that dream, touch those stars.

Or so I think, until one day it comes to me and when it dawns I cannot believe it took me a lifetime to truly see.  A lifetime of listening but not hearing.  Not understanding the One true way to live a life completely fulfilled.

We're asking all the wrong questions.

The Kingdom is no place for self promotion.  Maybe that's why the question of what one wants out of life can ring so false.  The 5 step plans to the best careers and biggest paychecks fail to live up to their much hyped promises.  People put in 100 hour work weeks at their supposed dream jobs and come home empty.  How can this be so?

Wrong questions yield wrong answers.

If life is all about fulfilling earthly desires then yes, by all means, it makes sense to do as we please.  But if, as I suppose, life is a twisting path through a narrow gate to that great City on a Hill, maybe what we want really doesn't matter as much as we think it does.  Is it enough to spend our vapor completely on the promotion of self?

Tonight, after small people are tucked into bed, the dinnertime candles are blown out and we stand together in the dark, listening to the dishwasher churn, I'll ask a different question.  I see my error, and I think I've finally got the right one.  One that we can hold onto together, one that can give us a bit of hope, together.

"What does God want from us?"

It could be life changing.

It's Lent and I can feel it, deep down inside, my heart is thawing.  Spring is on His way.

The State of My Space

He forgot to take out the trash again.  I'm no better. This morning's dishes slump in the sink, next to the laundry basket of mismatched socks I had worked on last night.  Blocks are still scattered on the floor and it appears someone abandoned half a bagel on the coffee table.  We come clambering in from the co op, arms full of art projects and assignments and I shrug out of my jacket and take the baby up to my (unmade) bed for a nap.  I pause only a moment to pat his round tummy before turning to face it all down.

Its been said that cleaning with young children in the house is like shoveling in the snowstorm. I try to remember that when juice splatters the floor I just mopped, or when a painting project gets way out of hand.  I try to remember that all of that goes double for a family where the children are home all day long.  A home with over double the national average of people is going to have an insane laundry pile.  I try to remember.

I know deep down that seeking solace in crisp cleanliness is an empty pursuit.  It may give comfort for a bit but it will never give that deep abiding peace that I keep looking for.  The moment a sippy cup capsizes, its gone, replaced with discontentment, disappointment, dissatisfaction.  There is rest and peace for my soul, but I won't find it no matter how many bags of donations I set on the front porch, or how determinedly I scrub the bathroom sink.

 I surround myself with people who "get" it.  I tell myself that none of it matters and that, if someone judges me by the clutter beneath my couch, perhaps that's not my problem.  I try not to let it all bug me and put on a brave face when I show the handyman my basement in all its cob-webby, disorganized glory.

Sometimes, I succeed.  I know who I am, I know my vocation and I know it gets ugly here sometimes.  And sometimes there's a bit of beauty in the ugly, that ugly/beautiful.  The collection of matchbox cars, wooden blocks and action figures I trip over on the stairs.  The sink full of mason jars.  The pile of shoes at the back door.

Sometimes, I fail.  I storm about and shout orders and demand order at any cost.  But even if it is accomplished, its empty.  A home void of life is an empty, joyless place.  Like a forest teaming with life, there is an order to the mayhem, a pattern, a purpose.  Who can improve on the perfection of of paint dripping from the elbow of a most intent miniature artist?  Now's not the time to demand perfection.  Now's the time to encourage creativity and curiosity and yes discipline but all wrapped up in grace and understanding.  All these crumbs are worth it, or so I tell myself.

So it goes.  I fire up and talk myself down.  I vacillate between iron clad requirements and relaxed expectations.  I flip and I flop and I try to get it all right - to not mind when its all undone a moment after I do it.

The state of my space?  Unspectacular.

This is the life.  This is how it goes. This is why there is photo editing.

Adventures

Life is an adventure, so they say.  And honestly sometimes that is just the only way to view it.  When I woke up Sunday morning to a bed full of children with icy toes and noses, I knew something was up.  It turns out our furnace had decided to take a vacation in February - not great timing, but (thanks to the warmer weather we've had this year) not the end of the world.  Our normal handyman came out after Church and had a look, but it seems that the fix will require a bit more than that.

So it seems we are once again flung into a  great adventure.  I tuck four children in a bed altogether, adding in hot water bottles and extra blankets for good measure and covering them all with a "fort" over top, just for a little fun.  I say a prayer of thankfulness for the miracle that is down comforters and woolen socks and a chubby wee baby who doesn't seem to mind acting as my own personal furnace.  There is something extra delightful about a cool pillow beneath your cheek when you are snug as a bug in a rug, bundled right up.  And really, seeing it all as pure, adventurous fun is really what can keep you calm and in good spirits when these little catastrophes descend in their haphazard way.

So tomorrow morning there will be toasty oatmeal and cuddles on the couch and maybe even a bit of hot chocolate.  The furnace man will come by again and maybe this time be able to fix whatever it is that is going on down in that gloomy basement.  But if not, we'll be just fine.  Its all part of the adventure.

{Another not-so-fun jog in my plans has been the recent demise of my camera lens.  Until I am able to replace it, I hope you will bear with me!  I may have to use my husband's phone to document some recent projects of mine from this weekend...}

{Watchful}

Something feels different this morning.  I slip on clogs at the back door and wrap the baby in fleece before heading out.  Through the gate, avoiding the smooshy spots where the mud has taken over.  It smells different this morning.  Although this Winter has not felt much like Winter at all, I'm surprised when that first whiff of Spring - hope catches at me.  Fresh air fills my lungs and I feel it - clean.

I scrape my feet off at the beginning of Dad's path.  There are snowdrops nodding at me, snuggled right up beside the old green barn.  I bend down and Peter's chubby hand grasps a stem and holds it up to me, a tribute.

Its Lent again and Ash Wednesday is my very favorite day of the Church year.  A day where our Pastor tells us to look at one another and admit it:  "I am a miserable person."  A day where we're reminded that despite our packed calendars and fitness goals and pinterest boards, we're all just dust.  Something that people don't usually want to discuss.  Something our modern world deems better off ignored.  I can't ignore mortality when its written in ash on the foreheads of the people I love the most.  Yet Ash Wednesday speaks hope to me, peace.

Peter and I borrow a bit of milk from Grandma and head home.  My coffee tastes different this morning - bitter.  I forgo sugar and read the first 6 chapters of Matthew, pausing at the Beattitudes to read them aloud to the crowd at my feet.

Jonah climbs into my lap and plants a kiss on my forehead, the same spot blessed the night before.  In this moment, I'm held in quiet, watchful anticipation and perfect peace.


Is this your first time experiencing Lent?


Here are a few links to help you on your way.


Ann - on preparing a family for Lent

Sam - on our fractured need for Lent

Lenten Prayers for Strength and Endurance

{Believing The Impossible}

{An Ash Wednesday re-post in this quiet space today.}

His concerned eyes fasten to my forehead, then dart to those of his siblings with growing alarm.  Slowly, he reaches up to touch his own, only to draw back fingers, blackened.  He holds his toddler hand up to me and says "mess!"

I'm in a back pew with my four little dust mites.  That's what we are, that's what we believe, and its written in soot on our foreheads.  Dusty, dirty, messy people.  We splashed here through the rain and fog because we are drawn to the mystery of something so backwards, so nonsensical in our minds that it requires a second look.  I take his hand in mine and sing

"Thus might I hide my blushing face 
 while his dear cross appears; 
 dissolve my heart in thankfulness, 
 and melt mine eyes to tears."  

I am a mess.  A charred, burned up, filthy mess.  As I blunder through this life, each day ending with regrets, I know that I don't have it all figured out.  For me, that is oddly comforting.

So often this story we are living defies common wisdom.  There is so much that we just cannot understand or explain.  But then that upside down God comes along and shows us how His ways are not ours.  And we can trust, because we've heard this story before:

Perfect God-man dying to save dust mites, to refine and turn them into glittering golden glories.  It makes no sense. Still He weaves His beautiful tapestry together and reveals, in His time, His heart for us.

Gently He takes us, ashes scattered to the wind, and cradles us close.  Woos our blackened, wooden hearts. Reminds us that this, all of it, is a gift.  For us, from Him.  Free of charge.  I'm melting into a puddle of gratitude, and no amount of Lenten sacrifice could make up for the upside down, unconditional love I'm shown every day.

We drive home, rain streaming down windows.  Despite the ashes, I feel clean - whole.  Tomorrow we will wake with washed faces, wrapped in the knowledge that True Love makes no sense.  I clasp the impossible mystery close, believing the miracle.



"The love that shed His blood for all the world to see
This must be the reason for it all."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quotes: "Alas And Did My Savior Bleed" words by Isaac Watts
"There is a Reason" lyrics by Ron Block

Linen Napkins {Tutorial}

Recently I was at a friends' house, sipping coffee and chatting about life while she folded laundry.  (Yes, I offered to help.  No, she wouldn't let me).  She was folding along when she mentioned to me how they always use cloth napkins, even though its more laundry.  Hers were in need of replacement, she sighed.

I've had a set of cloth napkins every now and then but not enough to be in constant rotation.  I figure a family our size probably needs about two dozen.  After talking with my friend, I hopped online to see what was available.  Functional napkins are inexpensive enough, but I wanted something that was a natural fiber.  Pretty napkins are more expensive.  With the amount I need to make paper napkins a thing of the past, I could spend quite a bit.

Instead of clicking "Buy It Now" on a particularly fetching set of 6 napkins ($20 plus shipping!), I dug through my fabric stash to see what I had.  Some dark brown linen might be just the thing - dark enough to hide the worst of what dinner time with 5 young ones could come up with, but nice enough to bring out for company.

Want to make a set of your own?  With minimal sewing skill, you can!  If you want to extend the savings even farther, consider checking out a thrift store - vintage sheets, table cloths or even an old skirt or two can be re-purposed into napkins at pennies on the dollar.  The best part is that using cloth napkins is not only frugal, but environmentally friendly.  If you re-purpose a used item, that goes double!

Cloth Napkin Tutorial

Step 1: Gather your supplies.  You'll need:

Enough fabric for the number of napkins you want.  I cut mine into 12x12 squares, so do the math and figure out how much you need.

Sewing Machine

Thread

Scissors

Rotary Cutter/Mat/ruler (not required, but this makes cutting and measuring so much easier!)

Iron/Ironing board

Step 2:  Cut out your napkins.  12x12 is standard napkin size

Step 3: Using your iron and ironing board, press the edges in 1/4 inch, then fold over 1/4 inch and press again, making a nice finished hem all the way around.  Pin in place.

Step 4: Sew all the way around the napkin, making sure the corners stay tucked the way you want them.  I used one of the fancy decorative stitches on my machine, but a straight stitch works just as well.

That's it!  If you want to further embellish your napkins, you can pop them in a hoop and embroider them.  Be creative!  And enjoy your lovely, frugal, earth friendly napkins!