Not to be morbid, but I'm still grieving for our friends' son, who just lost his soon-to-be-fiancee in a crash, and for his mother, my best friend, who suffers much as she watches her son suffer. (Reminds me of Mary.)

It seems that an engagement was even more iminent than I realized. He had recently agreed to purchase a ring from her grandmother's estate to give to Laurel as an engagement ring; now, she'll be wearing it in her casket. He's an emotionally fragile kind of guy--with the sweetest, kindest, most open heart and a tendency toward the blues--and we're worried about him.

My prayer is that he will find in God the strength that he needs right now and emerge from this a stronger man than he was before. It's certainly what she--as well as the rest of us who care about him--would want for him.

Limits

I started a chatty little post about my pleasant morning of garage saling, but I'll have to put it up later. Even while out and about, I've been praying all day. My mind is still on this Taylor University tragedy.

This link has a lovely picture of Laurel, our friends' son's fiancee-to-be, who died in the crash. (She's the second one down.) You can see she was gifted artistically. He wants to build houses; she was going to do the insides. (This is what Blondechick 13 told me today, anyway.)

He was supposed to be on that van with her, but missed it when his last class went late.

Some things surely are exercises in faith, aren't they? It's hard to imagine God's purposes in something like this. It's especially hard for us to imagine when it seems like there's just been suffering heaped upon suffering--as the last several years have been for our friends.

Yet somehow we trust that He does know what He is doing--that He does have the Big Picture, the lid of the puzzle box!--when all we've got are lots of little pieces. We may swear that a certain piece can't go here, or has to belong there--but our perspective really is so limited.

Now, for faith to trust in the Unlimited!

Please pray for the families of these students from Taylor University (a Christian college in Indiana) and especially for our good friends whose son's girlfriend (of 4 years) was killed in the accident.

Homeschooling Generation M

Awhile back, I posted about concerns with kids and media, which I share. It must have been after that that I had a moment of inspiration: Why not put the elephant to work, so to speak?

So on a whim, I started a blog for Bantam 7. If I was going to type out a narration (that's a teaching strategy--after a child reads something, they "tell back" what they read; it teaches them sequencing, organizing, word choice, main idea, pre-writing skills, etc.), I might as well save it to a blog, for an audience--real or imagined!--rather than to Word file somewhere on my hard drive where no one knows of its existence but us. (In theory, we ought to print them out, he should illustrate them, and we should put them in a binder to be cherished and proudly displayed to...? In practice, we lose them, never get around to hole-punching and/or illustrating them and soon the binder is just taking up my valuable shelf space.)

I discovered that "working on my blog" is much more fun and motivating to a Bantam than "telling about what you've read." There's a reward at the end of the narration, too--finding a picture to put with the entry, making a link to a web page about the book, and then rereading all your posts! So go have a look--there's a link there in my sidebar.

(If you're back and wondering where he got the name for his blog, it's from a line in the cartoon music video "Grammar Rock.")

Blondechick 13 has been wanting her own blog ever since I started mine, and we've had many conversations with her about safety, anonymity, what is and isn't appropriate to write about, and time management on the computer--all the things I have to think about too. We've agreed that mostly her blog is to be on literary or educational topics (i.e. book reports/reviews, composition assignments), but she can also write about whatever she wants sometimes too. Since we set it up, she hasn't been able to do much with it yet, but hopefully she will be having more time for it soon. Go ahead and check out her first couple entries though!

I will set one up for Bantam 15 after school is out--it is mainly going to have pictures of his "Lego creations," but maybe I'll convince him to write his stories there too.

Bantam 10.95 hasn't learned keyboarding yet. Though we set that as a goal for him this year, at the end of the day I'm just as happy for him to go play with his brother than to sit down at the computer. He wants me to set up a blog for him and retype his handwritten composition assignments there. I'm planning to, sometime, but then I'm hoping he'll be inspired to go to town on the keyboarding program this summer. We'll see.

Finally a funny from him--though he didn't intend it to be!

In his math book was a story problem about a guy that wanted to fence his back yard. It gave the dimensions of his yard--you know, an area problem. Bantam 10.75 was having trouble concentrating, though. Finally I said, "Come on, how's this guy going to figure out how much fence he needs to buy?" Bantam said "Uh...," thought for a minute more and then, in all seriousness, decisively answered, "by math."

This One's for Sparrow

Time for a confession: I am a bathroom reader, and my favorite bathroom reading material, ever since I was a little girl, has been Reader's Digest. For Christmas every year, my grandmother gives me another year's subscription. (Now my teenagers are starting to read Reader's Digest in the bathroom. A new generation is getting hooked!)

If you've never read Reader's Digest, then you may not know that they end each article with real-life jokes or funny stories. I confess that I delight in corralling my unwilling husband and forcing him to listen to these, and I am also guilty of remembering them uncannily well and retelling them at opportune moments.

So this is one I read a few months ago that has stuck with me for some reason. Maybe it's because I grew up on a farm, and one of my little-known and little-practiced skills is that I can drive a tractor--though it's been 20 years, I'm sure it would all come back. Or perhaps its because I'm beginning to feel my age a bit....

But when I saw Sparrow "relaxing and re-energizing" yesterday in these pictures (aren't they adorable?--both the lady AND the tractor?), I knew that this was a woman who undoubtedly would appreciate this gentleman's sentiments:

Here was a tempting offer in The Ithaca Journal: "Ford, 9N, $2,750. New tires and chains, trip bucket. Wife says tractor goes or she goes. Gave it a lot of thought. Good appearance, solid, great shape for the age. Works hard without complaining. Same can be said for tractor."

Get Real Monday

Okay, today I'm playing along with Randi at I Have To Say, who had this to say on Friday:

This month I am wondering what you do to relax and re-energize. I think most of you are busy moms and sometimes you need to take a break and do something for yourself. Do you read a book? Wash the car? Make a craft? Do some gardening? Go hide out in the bathroom? (OK, that last one was a joke!) What makes you feel ready to meet the challenges of life? And please, if you can, on Monday post a picture of yourself doing it!

So here's me at Panera Bread Company--my favorite place to go for some "me time." Now that I'm blogging, the free Wi-Fi makes it an even more desirable place to go, but I've loved their hazelnut coffee and chocolate-something bagels (right now it's Mocha-Chip Swirl) for years.

After our third child was born, life seemed to get a lot harder. My husband (out of desperation, probably!), strongly suggested that I leave the house for a couple afternoons a week--he worked at home at the time--to spend some concentrated quiet time with the Lord. I remember thinking at first that I didn't need time away from my house, I needed quiet time IN it, preferably WITHOUT him and the children in it, if he could figure out how to manage that. I wanted to Get Things Done! But since he was practically pushing me out the door, I went, at first to the Acorn Coffee Bar and Folk Lore Center, where they gave folk instrument lessons. (At that time, it was the closest quiet place besides the library--where they still won't sell ya a hot drink.) I remember praying in my car each time before I went in, that it would be a sanctuary, a place where God would meet me in a special way--and did He ever!

At first, it was hard for me to stop feeling anxious that I wasn't accomplishing something. An hour seemed a long time to fill with just Scripture reading and prayer. Then I began reading Restoring the Christian Soul by Leanne Payne, since I knew Leanne--she attended our church at that time and I had been so blessed at one of her conferences. The first few chapters of that book provided so much journalling material that suddenly the hour just seemed way too short. As I wrote out my heart to God, He met me in such powerful ways that those hours alone with Him soon became the meat of my spiritual diet. (As a homeschooling mom, it seems like I don't get a chance to "eat" much on normal days with my children. Maybe if I were an early riser and a morning person...but alas, I am not.)

Later, when my oldest two were in a morning of classes, I worked out babysitting for the youngest so I could go alone for those 2.5 hours to a nearby Panera, and I kept working it out for years--through various class and babysitting arrangements (it helped that Grandma and Grandpa moved here after our fourth child was born)--so that I had my morning out once a week. If I had a newborn, he or she came with me. There are employees and "regulars" at one Panera who've seen me through three pregnancies and infancies!

The current version of our schedule is that I go on Friday nights and Saturday mornings while Blondechick 13 and Bantam 10.95 are at play practices. After being gone at work all week, Papa Rooster is happy to stay home with our younger kids, and after a week of kids, I'm in desperate need of time ALONE--so it works out well for us.

It has become such an important time for me to regroup spiritually and emotionally--and it's just not the same when I attempt it at home. ("Don't try this at home!") The phone rings, kids need me, I'm distracted by Things That Need To Be Done--there isn't a room in my house that isn't filled with those--and it's hard to hear that still, small voice. Somehow, it's much louder at Panera! I read, I journal, I pray, I process decisions, I think uninterrupted thoughts. It's become my venue of choice for writing projects as well.

Some of you have run into me there...and now you all can imagine me there--as I am right now!

We're having a beautiful April here in Illinois. The weather has been so nice that twice this week I went out into my yard just for a look-see and actually tackled some no-fun gardening jobs on the spot. It seems like I do this every year. I don't intend it, I'm not prepared for it, but I start something and can't stop! Here is a case in point:


Those are red raspberries--in July they will be delicious, succulent little orbs of fruitful perfection. Mmmmm, we love 'em.

But, just a few days ago, they were a scraggly mess of dead canes and weeds. Without gloves or long sleeves, I started yanking and couldn't stop till it was done. I was covered in scratches and little embedded pricklies, but they look 100% better and they're ready for mulching!

Next I tackled this--can you tell what it is?

Yes--asparagus! I love perennials, like asparagus and raspberries, that come up whether I've planned ahead or not. And it's especially great when I can grow plenty of something that I'd hesitate to spend lots of money on a little bit of it in a store!

This is only the second year for it, though, so we haven't enjoyed any of it yet. Supposedly this year it's okay to pick a few stalks, but none of these plants look really well-established to me, so I've resisted. (Besides, what would we do with just a few stalks? None of us like it raw.)

I cleared out the biggest weeds and the dead stalks from last year. Now I have a question for the gardeners out there--what do you suggest I do for mulch? We have a big problem with Creeping Charlie all through the garden area. Somehow wood chips don't seem like the right thing. Any ideas?

I tackled this job on a different day. That's my neighbor's fence on the right, and my flower bed on the left. It's such a waste of gardening effort, as none of us ever goes around here to enjoy it, but of course my neighbor sees it, so I have to do something with it.

This bed used to be all hedge which needed trimming several times a summer, so when the weight of snow pulled the hedge over and out by the roots, we didn't mind. I threw lots of mulch down and let it go, occasionally transplanting some shade-loving plants like hosta, Lenten Rose and lungwort there.

Later in the summer, there is trumpet vine covering the fence opposite my kitchen window, and can you see the bird house and the bottom of the bird feeder there above the fence? The birds love them, so my view isn't as bad as it looks in this picture.

And here it is--done, except for mulch. Now, you probably think there's not much to see here, but what I see is: a lemon balm free zone!!

Don't ever let lemon balm, as lovely smelling as it is, ever get started without knowing exactly what you are doing. It started coming up "volunteer," as my mom says, from my neighbor's side of the fence, and since there was not much else growing in that bed, I let it get started. Big mistake. It spreads like spilled milk and it ain't easy to pull out either. It and the weeds were taking over till I started pulling it out last year. This year I've caught the remnants, I hope!

All the way down there at the end, I was much smarter with a start of spearmint I was given. Do you see it there, in something that looks like a laundry tub with the bottom cut out buried up to its rim? That's what it is, in fact, and there it has been nicely contained for years!

Lungwort

This is lungwort, which I mentioned I'm slowly planting extra from here into that shady bed. It has these beautiful blue and pink flowers, early in April or even in late March, and lovely spotted foliage for the rest of the summer.

It grows great in shade and looks nice all summer long. It spreads, but slowly, and is easy to pull out where you don't want it!

Lenten Rose

And this is the other thing I mentioned--helloborus, or "Lenten Rose." It's also a really early spring bloomer, and the blooms last for weeks and weeks. It's lovely.

And here is Bantam 7, my chief helper and wheelbarrow pusher, with a bouquet he picked for me!

Ahhh, the rewards of gardening with kids. Who else can see the weeds of your life as beautiful flowers?

Fasting, Feasting

The Lenten fast is over for most of us (although my one? Orthodox reader still has a week or two to go), but here is a fast to keep--and a feast to celebrate--all year!

Fast from criticism, and feast on praise;
Fast from self-pity and feast on joy;
Fast from ill temper, and feast on peace
Fast from resentment and feast on contentment;
Fast from jealousy, and feast on humility;
Fast from pride, and feast on love;
Fast from selfishness, and feast on service;
Fast from fear, and feast on faith.

(the Rule of the late Arthur Lichtenberger,
presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, 1958-1964.
I have no idea if he was a good guy or not.)

Name Ten of Life's Simple Pleasures

1. Hyacinths

2. Vivaldi

3. Relaxing into my pillow at night

4. The cute, cute, cuteness of my baby

5. My favorite mug

6. A kiss and a smile from my husband

7. Squirrels

8. Ice cream

9. Kids being silly

10. A good book

(First spotted here.)

What would you add?

Creation Reading

I am so excited! Our friend Ray Wu (who has a great eye--he is an amazing artist) is sharing with me some of the photos he took at the Easter Vigil! As I have described here and here, it is the service not to be missed. The creative and dramatic folks pull out all the stops at this one!

This is the finale of the Creation Reading--you can see Adam and Eve there in the middle, resting (she's in her third trimester, which lent humor to the moment when "Adam," hand on her tummy, waggled an eyebrow at the line "Be fruitful and multiply"). The round umbrellas represented the sea, and there are orange jellyfish there among the "waves." The large yellow and white fans represented the sun and moon moving past to signify the end of the seventh day.

(You can click on all these pictures to see more detail.)

Red Sea

This is the Crossing of the Red Sea. It was half spoken, half sung--a completely original composition (by the guy second from the right, there, our worship coordinator) based on the spiritual "God's Gonna Trouble the Waters." It was masterfully done.

These are the Egyptians driving their chariots onto the dry pathway through the Red Sea--about to be covered with water.

Holy Noise

This is the moment of "the Holy Noise," when we shouted "Alleluia" (for the first time in 40 days) and rang bells to celebrate that Christ has risen! while white linens were placed on the altar and flowers crowded in front of it. Then the curtains were pulled back to reveal these brand new banners (those are squares of pastel pinks, purples and golds there at the top).

Clergy Bells

This is a close up of our clergy during the Holy Noise--that's Papa Rooster's bald head there in the center.

(Several of these folks serve at one of our sister churches. Those are women deacons, not priests, just for the record.)

Vigil Mosh

For the first time ever, we had a spontaneous outpouring of folks coming up to the front during the worship at the end. We jokingly called it a "mosh pit"--especially since so many were college students--but in all seriousness, their desire to get out of their seats and come up near the altar, their desire to worship with all that was in them, was moving.

Pictured is a moment that could be called "the Holy Woo-Hoo"! The joy was overwhelming.

PRAISE YOU, LORD CHRIST!!!

Palm Sunday Procession

And here's a "flashback" to Palm Sunday, which I talked about here.

Bitty Bantam on Palm Sunday

And this was during the final hymn on Palm Sunday. That's Bantam 7 there on the right, Bitty Bantam (14m) in the foreground, and Papa Rooster on the stage in red.

For why this was a significant moment for Bitty Bantam...read the beginning of the next post!

Easter Moments to Remember

On Palm Sunday, during the final praise song, children were standing at the front waving streamers, and since we sit in the second row and Bitty Bantam (14m) was hollering loudly to be put down, I let him toddle around in the front with the other children. He got knocked down once and tripped several times all by himself, but the smile never left his face, and twice he started to climb the stairs to the stage to join the musicians!

Many people, including our pastor, commented on how blessed they were to see him. They remembered that a year ago on Palm Sunday, as his life hung in the balance, the whole church joined with our pastor in lifting him up as a special intercession during the Eucharist. Seeing his sturdy, healthy little self, waving his palm branch and grinning happily, was a joy, a praise and a thanksgiving for many of us.

***

Our Easter Vigil, always the highlight of the week, was an especially wonderful service this year. I cannot begin to describe the artistic and dramatic creativity that shaped the presentation of salvation history through the Scripture readings, or the absolutely amazing talent of the musicians--and a composer!--that led our worship. I had thought I might post some pictures, since we all know that a picture is worth a thousand words, but do we all know how bad I am at taking pictures, even when I do remember the camera, which I did not, for any of the Holy Week services? Then on Sunday afternoon, when someone finally thought of pictures (after the kids had all shed their Easter finery), it was discovered that the camera had been in the diaper bag the whole time! I, in a moment of rare foresight, had asked one of the kids to put it there. Think it's early senility??

So, no Easter picture this year, to my disappointment--it's kind of a tradition of ours. (Some other Sunday soon, maybe.) Still, we had a great time of food and laughter at our house on Sunday afternoon with my in-laws, my husband's brother, his wife, their 18 month old daughter, and our next-door neighbor Riley, a single man the same age as my in-laws who has joined us for holidays for ten years now.

***

I sure enjoyed my coffee with hazelnut syrup in it on Easter morning. (And later on, the pie with ice cream, and Fannie May raspberry cream eggs, and a Butterfinger--my favorite!) Hits in the kids' Easter baskets this year were Playdough for Chicklet 3, and Sudoku puzzle books for the rest. (We've been putting less and less candy and more dollar store treats in their baskets each year.) Bantam 15 got a watch like Dad's several weeks ago as an early Easter present several weeks ago. And Sunday afternoon, the boys got out all their Legos!!

(Sigh. I sure didn't miss them during Lent.)

***

Bantam 7 to Chicklet 3: "...and then the Easter Bunny is coming to our house..."

Chicklet 3 (sternly): "No, NOT the Easter Bunny. ONLY GOD!"

An Easter Sermon

A re there any who are devout lovers of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!

Are there any who are grateful servants?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary from fasting?
Let them now receive their due!

If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their reward.

If any have come after the third hour,
let them with gratitude join in the feast!

Those who arrived after the sixth hour,
let them not doubt; for they shall not be short-changed.

Those who have tarried until the ninth hour,
let them not hesitate; but let them come too.

And those who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let them not be afraid by reason of their delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
The Lord gives rest to those who come at the eleventh hour,
even as to those who toiled from the beginning.

To one and all the Lord gives generously.
The Lord accepts the offering of every work.
The Lord honours every deed and commends their intention.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike, receive your reward.
Rich and poor, rejoice together!

Conscientious and lazy, celebrate the day!
You who have kept the fast, and you who have not,
rejoice, this day, for the table is bountifully spread!

Feast royally, for the calf is fatted.
Let no one go away hungry.
Partake, all, of the banquet of faith.
Enjoy the bounty of the Lord's goodness!

Let no one grieve being poor,
for the universal reign has been revealed.

Let no one lament persistent failings,
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.

Let no one fear death,
for the death of our Saviour has set us free.

The Lord has destroyed death by enduring it.
The Lord vanquished hell when he descended into it.
The Lord put hell in turmoil even as it tasted of his flesh.

Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, were placed in turmoil when he encountering you below."

Hell was in turmoil having been eclipsed.
Hell was in turmoil having been mocked.
Hell was in turmoil having been destroyed.
Hell was in turmoil having been abolished.
Hell was in turmoil having been made captive.

Hell grasped a corpse, and met God.
Hell seized earth, and encountered heaven.
Hell took what it saw, and was overcome by what it could not see.

O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?

Christ is risen, and you are cast down!
Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!
Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is risen, and life is set free!
Christ is risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead.

For Christ, having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Christ be glory and power forever and ever. Amen!

+ + +

St. John Chrysostom (Circa 400)

Holy Saturday Summary

Last year, I missed all the Holy Week services due to the hospitalization of our then five-week-old. This year, I am drinking them in with my family. As Blondechick 13 said a week ago, “I’m so glad it’s Holy Week; it has all my favorite services!”

It’s a feast for the senses:

(Be sure to click on the links for accompanying pictures)

Palm Sunday

The eerie sound of the shofar
Banners rippling as we shiver in the cool morning breeze
Palms brushing crisply against my hair as Bitty Bantam frantically waves his
The evocative smell of incense
Musical hosannas to our King
Children dancing and waving ribbons
A sobering Gospel, memorized, rivets our attention
Purple vestments of penitence exchanged for the red of Passion

Maundy Thursday

Gentle music
Cool water on my bare foot
Another’s hands touching my calloused skin
The same water, warmer now to my hands
Coarse towel to dry with
My husband’s voice and reflections, amplified
The bite of bread
The wetness of wine
“Do this in remembrance of me”
An altar stripped bare
A shrouded cross
Fading light
Flickering red vigil candles
A silent processional through the cool, dark night

Stations of the Cross

A slow, short journey from station to station
Iconic depictions of our Lord’s final hours on earth
Powerful prayers moving me to salty tears
The relief of confession

Good Friday

Black vestments
Somber silence
Lavender-scented oil on my forehead
My own voice in the microphone: “The iniquity of us all has been laid upon Him”
The Passion of our Lord, movingly, meaningfully, dramatically given from memory
Sitting as we listen
Rising to our feet
Kneeling at the end
A wooden cross lifted, put to shoulders, carried past, laid on the ground before us
Choir voices blend movingly, hauntingly
Nothing but a dry wafer tonight
The rough wood of the cross beneath my hand and forehead
Individual expressions of reverence all around: silence, tears, a kiss
(Wondering if my seven year old has fallen asleep, he’s there by the cross so long…)

And the Easter Vigil yet to come tonight!

Blackness
Pounding on the door
A candle lifted high, three times, in the darkness
My husband’s warm tenor voice, an ancient hymn, chanted: “The light of Christ”
Salvation history recounted in the Old Testament readings
New accompaniments every year…
A barely whispering flute?
The rattle of a rainstick?
A dancer in white raiment?
A troupe with staffs pounding the stage?
What children, what adults?
What songs, what musicians?
What creativity!
More light as we bless the water, baptize, receive new members, rejoice
White robes, wooden crosses, rough leather necklaces, the sweet rain of holy water sprinkled over us, joyful music
ALLELUIA! (a word we have not spoken in 40 days)
Deafening clamor of bells, keys, shouts and drums--
Hurry and prepare the altar with white linens, daffodils, tulips, hyacinths and lilies—
A final drum solo
“He’s Alive!”
A five-minute sermon (what can one add?)
Tasty bread and sweet wine
Songs of celebration (who will start the dancing?)
Panting children and sheepishly joyful adults grab hands in the aisles
The old, the inhibited and those with young cast glad smiles
Tired bodies tell the lateness of the hour
“You shall go out with joy and be led forth in peace”
The Lord is risen; He is risen indeed!

The Good Friday Reproaches

My people, what wrong have I done to you?
What good have I not done for you?
Listen to me.

I am your Creator, Lord of the Universe;
I have entrusted this world to you,
but you have created the means to destroy it.

I made you in my image,
but you have degraded body and spirit
and marred the image of your Goid.
You have deserted me and turned your backs on me.

I filled the earth with all that you need,
so that you might serve and care for one another,
as I have cared for you;
but you have cared only to serve your own wealth and power.

I made my children of one blood
to live in families rejoicing in one another;
but you have embittered the races
and divided the nations.

I commanded you to love your neighbour as yourself,
to love and forgive even your enemies;
but you have made vengeance your rule
and hate your guide.

In the fullness of time I sent you my Son
that in him you might know me,
and through him find life and peace;
but you put him to death on the cross.

Through the living Christ, I called you into my church
to be my servants to the world,
but you have grasped at privilege
and forgotten my will.

I have given you a heavenly gift
and a share in the Holy Spirit;
I have given you the spiritual energies
of the age to come;
but you have turned away
and crucified the Son of God afresh.

I have consecrated you in the truth;
I have made you to be one
in the unity of the Father and the Son,
bythe power of the Spirit;
but you have divided my Church
and shrouded my truth.


My people, what wrong have I done to you?
What good have I not done for you?
Listen to me.

Let your bearing to one another
arise out of your life in Christ Jesus.
He humbled himself
and in obedience accepted the death of the cross.
But I have bestowed on him
the name that is above everyt name,
that at the name of Jesus,
every knee should bow
and every tongue confess,
Jesus Christ is Lord.

Turn again, my people, listen to me.

Father, hear our prayer and forgive us.
Unstop our ears
that we may receive the gospel of the cross.
Lighten our eyes
that we may see your glory
in the face of your Son.
Penetrate our minds
that your truth may make us whole.
Irradiate our hearts with your love
that we may love one another for Christ's sake.
Father, forgive us.

Lessons from Lent: Love

"The Lenten pilgrimage is not about developing greater spiritual competence, nor achieving mystical enlightenment. Rather, it is an exercise in following. Specifically, it means following Christ and--in that journey of faith--discovering the truth about ourselves and the largeness of God's love." (Steven D. Purcell in Even Among These Rocks: A Spiritual Journey)

Love made me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here."
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, ungrateful: Ah my dear,
I cannot look upon Thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eye but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.
(George Herbert)

"To meet the eyes of Jesus is to see one's sinfulness and be forgiven simultaneously." (Bernard of Clairvaux)

Maundy Thursday

An upper room did our Lord prepare
for those he loved until the end:
and his disciples still gather there
to celebrate their risen friend.

A lasting gift Jesus gave his own:
to share his bread, his living cup,
whatever burdens may bow us down,
he by his cross shall lift us up.

And after supper he washed their feet,
for service, too, is sacrament,
In him our joy shall be made complete--
sent out to serve, as he was sent.

No end there is! We depart in peace.
He loves beyond our uttermost:
in every room in our Father's house
he will be there, as Lord and host.

(by Fred Pratt Green--as quoted in Even Among These Rocks: A Spiritual Journey by Steven D. Purcell)

I WON!

Mary at Owlhaven, a homeschooling mom of 8 (including 4 adopted from Korea and Ethiopia), was gone for the weekend and received a record number of comments when she asked for recommendations for songs to sing with kids--her criteria and point-reward system are here.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and I got carried away recalling a few songs I'd learned in my childhood. There were extra points if Mary had never heard of your song, so I bet I won it with this entry:

A Christian Cowboy

I'm just a little feller
But I always hope to be
A cowboy sticking close to
The man from Galilee.
And pardner all I want to do
Is satisfy my Boss
And be the bestest Christian boy
Who ever rode a hoss.

I'll be a cowboy
A Christian cowboy,
I'll rope for Jesus all my days.
And in the country
Or in the city
I'll help him round up all the strays.

I couldn't find lyrics for it anywhere on the internet, but I've known it since my now-a-pilot brother sang this as a solo in church when he was about 7! And yes, I have sung this, in my best nasal twang, for my boys on a "cowboy day," when they were...er...much younger.

And my kids love/hate it when I sing:

I love you,
A bushel and a peck,
A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck,
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap,
Barrel and a heap and I'm talkin' in my sleep
About you...about you.

(Extra high voice)
The cows and the chickens
Are goin' to the dickens, 'cause

I love you,
A bushel and a peck,
You bet your pretty neck I do,
Doodle oodle oodle...3X

Mom used to sing it to me! It's from the musical Guys & Dolls.

Finally, I suggested this one, which I learned at 4-H camp:

I'm a little coconut,
I live in a coconut grove.
Everybody steps on me,
That is why I'm cracked, you see.

Honk, honk, rattle rattle rattle crash beep beep...4X

Called myself up on the phone,
Just to see if I was home.
Asked myself out on a date--
Gotta be ready by half past eight.

Honk, honk...etc.

Took myself to a picture show,
Sat myself on the very first row.
Wrapped my arms around my waist,
Got so fresh I slapped my face.

Honk, honk...etc.

If you want to see a great list of other song and CD recommendations for kids--go visit here! And if you have a favorite, I'd love to hear it!

I've got to get better about posting pictures in a timely manner. For some reason, it often seems like there are many obstacles!

This one is from February. Bantam 7, there, goes shirtless all year 'round--and Chicklet 3 thinks it's so cool (pun intended) she started doing it too. Here her teeth were chattering as she ate ice cream with her pie!

Though it's slightly blurry, I liked this one that Blondechick took of Bitty Bantam at 12 months.

And here's a slightly more recent one. It captures a certain impish smile he frequently wears!

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday is one of the most joyful days of our church year. We begin the service outdoors, with a long processional that begins on the sidewalk by the street and wends its way up the driveway of the high school where our church meets. Most of us stand and watch, waving our palm branches and singing as the priests, deacons, prayer ministers, banner bearers and dancers pass by, following the cross lifted high. Then we fall in behind them, entering the school and continuing into the auditorium, still singing and waving our palms. It is an occasion for true, heartfelt joy and celebration for the children and adults alike.

"The joyful coronation quickly turns to the paradox of a thorny crown as we learn in the Passion Reading [usually memorized and recited dramatically in our service] that our Lord's Kingdom is inaugurated through His suffering and death. His Kingdom is not of this world's order, and indeed this world has misunderstood and rejected Him. The same who received Him as King, nail Him to a cross that is derisively labeled "King of the Jews." We, likewise, by our own sin, show a fundamental misunderstanding and rebellion. The hopes we attach to Him, the requests we make of Him, are often of this world's order. Our understanding and humility are grown only through the remembrance of His passion, which is now begun in earnest. Our palms are laid aside and kept to be burned for next year's Ash Wednesday service. We are discovering a different order, a Way that is higher than ours. To everything else we must die as we follow Jesus in His sufferings." (From a booklet Papa Rooster wrote for our church, explaining the liturgical symbolism of Lent and Holy Week)

From To Dance With God (by Gertrud M. Nelson):

"Remember, we are a marvelously human lot, and our feeling and passion was never meant to be checked at the church doors. If sports can bring thousands to shouting and waving flags and banners, what is it about our church-related rituals that make so many reticent and self-conscious? Liturgy is exactly concerned with what is most human about us. Theology and history do not tell us everything we need to know about religion. Beyond the rational, ritual and symbol allow us to risk powerful feeling expressions within the safety of a discipline or form. The powerful liturgy of these holy days must tap also our deepest and most human place, the feelings of the human heart... Yes, we risk putting ourselves out. But to hold back or deny out of fear is to deny people a form to contain their human expression; it is to rob people of a religious life."

I have never known a church which provides such an environment for worship as ours. Freedom of expression is everywhere, yet within the safe bounds of the liturgy, you never worry that it will go off the rails. A college student told me recently that he came back because of the father who hoisted his little son to his shoulders during the worship. A relatively new member of our church said, "I'd never stand up in the middle of a hymn and throw my hands up in the air, but I need that other guy who does!" The arts flourish there--we have banner makers, floral artists, carpenters, liturgical dancers, dramatic readers and incredible musicians who exercise their gifts in our body. And this week--Holy Week--is when we pull out the stops!

We cancel all other church meetings this week, but have services on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the Easter Vigil (usually 4 hours) on Saturday night, then Easter Sunday morning. Now, I know that sounds like a lot of church for even ADULTS to sit through--but guess what our kids say?

"I'm so glad that Holy Week is here--it's got all my favorite services!" (Blondechick 13)

A Taste of Tom and Twain

As I mentioned yesterday, we're reading aloud The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, since our kids are involved in a musical production of the story. If, like me, you haven't read anything by Twain in years, I thought a few excerpts would be of interest--and demonstrate that he truly deserves his reputation as one of America's greatest writers! These are most fun if expressively read aloud.

A famous moment in literature:

As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair plaited into two long tails, white summer frock and embroidered pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction, he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is done.

He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time; but by and by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet a while longer. She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face lit up right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment before she disappeared.


My kids thought the pathos building up to the ending moment of this scene was hilarious:

[Tom] pictured himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and die with the word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and his poor hands still forever, and his sore heart at rest. ... He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos of these dreams that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water... Then he thought of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she knew? ...Or would she turn coldly away like all the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it up in new and varied lights till he wore it threadbare....

About half past nine he came along the deserted street to where the Adored Unknown lived.... Was the sacred presence there? He climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till he stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion; then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor wilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with no shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the death-damps from his brow; no loving face to bend pityingly over him when the great agony came. And thus she would see him when she looked out upon the glad morning--and O! would she drop one little tear upon his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a bright young life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down?

The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned the holy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains!


There are at least a dozen "vocabulary words" in these excerpts that I wouldn't expect my kids--none are high school age yet--to know. (I read expressively and in their context, the kids get the gist. I stop and explain words when I think it's needed.) But I wonder if, in Twain's day, the vocabulary was the hurdle that it is for kids today?

Children's Book List Link

Many readers contributed to this wonderful list of favorite children's and young adult titles compiled by Island Sparrow. (That's Prince Edward Island--for all us Anne of Green Gables fans!)

We've enjoyed so many of these--but have so many to look forward to still!

Right now, our read-aloud is The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I'm amazed at how much my kids are enjoying it, since I frequently have to stop and explain some of Twain's peculiarly folksy, flowery, delightful passages. They're motivated, though, since they're in the musical right now, to compare their script with the book, and both with the movie version. (Hmmm, that would make an interesting compare/contrast writing assignment....)

"Just" Dad?

The middle Bantams (10.75 & 7) were playing in the front room when a car pulled into the driveway. Bantam 7 raced to the window for a better look.

"Oh, it's just Dad," he said.

"Why did you say 'just Dad'?" Bantam 10. 75 questioned. "Dad counts as ten people!"

"And Mom too," he hastily added.

Misplaced Modesty

My smart, funny, scholarly brother (to distinguish him from my smart, funny, pilot brother) sent me this one. He says:

We saw a young woman about the age of Blondechick 13 wearing this t-shirt. The large text was easy enough to read from a distance, but to read the fine print required staring intently at her adolescent bustline. This of course completely thwarted the concept of "special modesty" and seemed to promote the opposite.

Can you call it a witness if ogling is built into the design? If they really wanted to be modest, wouldn't they put the message across the BACK?

Sheesh.

Chicklet 3, on the blowing April gusts we've been getting:

"It was wind-ing, and then it was wind-ing some more, and I could hear it, and then it stopped."

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer, Collect for the Fifth Sunday in Lent)

What a great description of Lent! It's a time when we especially try, with God's help and by choosing certain disciplines and abstentions, to bring into order our unruly wills and affections. This year, like every other Lent that I've practiced, has been difficult, yet freeing. With only one week left of "regular Lent" (that's my own, non-theological expression) before Holy Week begins on Palm Sunday, it's a good time to reflect a little.

Though the most common discipline associated with Lent is fasting from a food, I have never actually done it before this year. I tend to get muscle-tension headaches easily--in fact they often come and go throughout the day--but I can manage them quite well by getting enough sleep, having my jaws massaged once a month (which you can't get without the full-body massage...alas...), and choosing what I eat very carefully, since many foods, especially carbs, seem to trigger them. So giving up a food wasn't new or challenging for me, and since I've often been pregnant or nursing anyway, I just never really tried, choosing disciplines of engagement (reading and prayer) instead.

But this year, we decided that as a whole family, we would give up desserts and sweets. I quickly realized then, how unhealthy my late-night snacking habits had become. That's the one time of day that I can eat whatever I want, since I'm headed for bed and muscle-relaxing sleep, and not trying to stay alert and efficient. So I've been challenged by that, with resulting strengthening of my will, I believe. I've also really missed sugar or syrup in my morning coffee. Silly, I know--but my anticipation of Easter Sunday morning is "sweetened" by knowing that then, my coffee will be too!

Our pastor made a great analogy, as a reminder to us all, about fasting. He said that if you fast without praying, "it's like plowing up a field and not planting any seed in it." We made sure our kids heard that, and in our morning devotions, we've been encouraging them to pray for certain character qualities which they have selected, like diligence, kindness and responsibility. At last assessment, none of them felt like they had grown significantly in these areas, but the analogy holds true: they are planting seeds. Some seeds sprout quickly, others take a long time--and it is God who gives the growth.

Personally, I feel the same way. Every year at Lent, I try to abstain from anger, something that so many moms struggle with. (A friend told me of a true story she read in a book, about a pastor who gave a sermon on anger and 18 people came forward for prayer afterward--all mothers of young children!) This year, as a corollary, I've been praying for more love. I've posted the familiar 1 Corinthians 13 in my kitchen, intending to polish my memorizing of it--haven't actually done that, but have read it often in the last 5 weeks.

I can't say I've had any huge breakthroughs in these areas, and that's the way it's been almost every Lent for me. But have I planted more seeds of prayer in these areas? You betcha. And overall, my control of my temper has increased over the years. I've been fairly faithful in my reading and prayer, as well--although sticking to our school and chore schedule, which we've been trying to do faithfully during Lent, has been unexpectedly, unusually hard.

What deepens for me each Lent is my sense of dependence on God. Yes, I choose to plant the seeds in prayer, but it is God who gives the growth. I must exert my will to choose self-control, to choose love--but without God, I cannot bring my unruly wills and affections into order. I need God's grace to love what He commands and desire what He has promised more than I love and desire my own preferences and comforts.

In the midst of the swift and varied changes of my days, may my heart be fixed where true joys are to be found.

The Third Carnival of Children's Literature is up over at Semicolon--on the theme of National Poetry Month!

Our damp, windy weather this morning reminded me of one of the first poetic bits of wisdom I ever learned: "April showers bring May flowers." Ahhh, the promise of spring!

More Sunday Reading

More from Talking With God by Francois Fenelon:

We must bear with ourselves patiently, without flattering ourselves, and we must continually subject ourselves to all that can overcome our natural inclinations and our inner dislikes....

This work, however, must be peaceful and untroubled. It must even be moderate, and we must not attempt to do all the work in a single day. We must try to reason little and to do much. If we do not take care, our whole life may be passed in reason, and we shall require a second life to practice! We run the risk of believing we have advanced in proportion to our understanding of perfection. All these fine ideas, far from advancing us in dying to ourselves, may only serve to secretly nourish the life of the old Adam within us by giving us confidence in our own opinions. Be extremely distrustful of your intellect and your own ideas of perfection. That will be a great step in becoming perfect. [italics original]


("Perfection" here refers to spiritual completeness derived from your relation to God, rather than conformation to an impersonal standard.)

Real Men

Last night my soul was fed.

My in-laws buy season tickets to several different concert series, including Chicago's Lyric Opera--and if they're tired or have a conflict, they'll babysit or pay for a sitter--and send us. We've been to the opera twice this year, on them. What a blessing!

Well, four of their concerts fell on the same two days, so last time it happened, I went with my father-in-law to see The King's Singers, and my husband went with his mom to see The Black Watch. Last night, Papa Rooster and his dad saw the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet, and Mom and I saw the stars of the Russian National Ballet.

It wasn't a whole ballet--I've yet to enjoy one of those, other than a nice semi-professional production of The Nutcracker. What we saw last night were excerpts, mostly pas de deux (or dances for two), from various ballets--Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, La Corsaire. No scenery, but exquisite costumes and breath-taking ballet.

As someone who's grown up watching more Olympic pairs skating and ice dancing than I have ballet, at first I missed the fluidity that can be achieved on ice. But the longer I watched, the more I appreciated the athleticism that went into creating the graceful illusion that is ballet. Even more than in ice skating, every muscle is controlled--down to the littlest finger, the eyebrow--even the gaze is completely focused.

And I was amazed at the masculinity of the men! I had to get past the tights, I admit. But once I did, their strength just wowed me. Their leaps and spins looked abolutely impossible for any woman to do--she could do them, perhaps, but not with the height and that same raw power. (If you want to see what I'm talking about, rent an 80's movie called White Knights, with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines.) God truly did construct men and women differently, for different purposes. Perhaps I was influenced by reading this post earlier in the day:

...A man isn't the soft comforting lap the kids sit on to be rocked to sleep, or the kiss that makes owwies all better. He may be called on to do those things sometimes, but he's not really constructed for it. A man is the solidity in his family, the rock that can't be broken. He's also the wall that shields them from storms, and the roof that keeps their heads dry. Which usually means getting rained on or wind-beaten himself. If you don't do that, a woman has to, and it's something they're not constructed for.

Joel's post is a great description of what it takes to be a real man. Often, it's about a man throwing himself, with all his strength--like these men ballet dancers hurling themselves into the air--into what it is that his duty requires. It takes the same kind of discipline and determination that these men ballet dancers embodied for me last night--and there is a grace and a beauty in it that we women need to appreciate.

My husband is no ballet dancer, but he's a real man. And he's leading the way for our four boys, with determination and fortitude, even when it's not easy for him. And the beauty in that, for me, excels even the grace of the ballet.

************************************************
On another note, I just ran across this post reviewing a movie that's out now called Ballet Russes. After last night, I'll definitely want to see this! It sounds beautiful.

(Oh, I must say that I haven't seen White Knights since it came out and don't remember whether it is family-friendly or not.)