Pentecost Musings

Yesterday we celebrated the Feast of Pentecost!  It's a day--no, a whole season--for remembering that after Christ ascended, He did not leave us alone.  He told the disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait for the Holy Spirit to come, and when He came, He came in power with the sound of a mighty rushing wind.  Before He ascended, Christ assured his disciples that they would do even greater works than His, once He had gone, because of the power of the Holy Spirit in them.

We receive the Holy Spirit as one of the gifts of salvation, and He is always with us.  Yet it is also possible to grieve the Spirit, quench the Spirit and be depleted of the Spirit, for Paul tells us, "Be continually filled with the Spirit."  Christ taught, "Apart from Me, you can do nothing," and Paul proclaimed, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."  Christ is with us and strengthens us through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes it's hard to see the line between doing in my own strength, and acting in the power of the Holy Spirit. My intention is to be committed to God--to His will, His plans, His purposes and His direction.  I try to choose my course--my actions, my plans, my attitudes--to line up with His.  I pray for His continual strength to do what I believe He's called me to do, and I think He does empower me to do so much more good than I could do if the plans were only my own.

Yet I know I get off course at times.  My good intentions fail in moments of anger, frustration and disappointment when something interferes with the plans, and it is in those moments that I most need the fruits of the Spirit--love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness and self-control.  It is in those instances that I realize how much more Spirit-filled and Spirit-controlled I want to be.

So what helps?  Today, I need to remind myself.

1)  Waiting expectantly, just like the disciples in Jerusalem on the first Pentecost.  The expectation is key; I think it is an exercise of faith to believe that if I ask, I shall receive.  Exercise strengthens!

2)  Explicitly giving Christ the rule of my heart.  I envision the throne of my heart and ask myself, "Who is spending more time there, me or Christ?"  I confess that I often put myself there, and I ask Him once more to seat Himself on that throne.  I put myself once again under His rule.

3)  Reminding myself that apart from Christ, I can do nothing, or "no good thing," as some translations render the verse.

4)  Consciously trying to love.  What would be the loving action, the loving word, the loving response?

5) Living by this verse:  "Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and Spiritual songs with gratitude in Your hearts to God- And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." 

To unpack:  Reading God's word, listening/singing songs of worship, giving thanks, and dedicating all my works and words to God.

In this year of great busy-ness, I have not much time for doing the things of God--for reading my Bible, for journalling, for devoted prayer times.  It feels, in some ways, like I have been crossing the desert, with minimal provisions to sustain me.  But by God's grace (and in answer to my prayers for mercy, I'm certain), I have been able to maintain many of the attitudes on this list.  As I look it over, I see that it's more about being than doing, more about choices than actions.

I remember I once placed a post-it on my mirror on which I had scrawled, "Who I am matters more than what I do."  It feels like this past year, I've only had time to choose who I am--I've had little choice at all about what I do.  Somehow, in this time of difficulty and stress, I think I've managed to grow in choosing who I am going to be, though my family knows how inconsistent I am.  But overall, I am going to choose not to feel guilty, but to be thankful for the many times that I know the Holy Spirit has helped me, in His strength, to bite my tongue, to give a soft answer, to do it myself with a servant's heart, to stay up late and help, to not complain.  I will encourage myself to keep asking, waiting, and expecting.  I will keep trying to love, to submit, to give thanks, to worship and to dedicate my thoughts, words and deeds to God.

I look for an end to this difficult season, but I will be thankful for what it is teaching me!

Fifteen Minutes to Sainthood

A friend emailed me this quote from Teresa of Avila: (Thanks, Matt!)

"Give me a person who has fifteen minutes of mental (interior) prayer daily, and I will give you a saint."

"For mental prayer in my opinion is nothing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with him who we know loves us."

This is from the same saint who gave us the quote in my sidebar, to the effect that married people, because of their vocation, must understand that their spiritual progress will be slow. But they shouldn't beat themselves up; they should be "cheerful and free and not neglect recreation."

I get upset with myself and my life when I don't spend the time I should in Bible study, prayer and ministry. But I have gotten better at drawing near to God in my spare moments, in directing my thoughts and interior words toward Him who I know loves me, especially when I feel unloved and unlovable, or depressed and overwhelmed. Don't think I'm up to 15 minutes a day total yet! But I have been surprised at how sustaining those mental "glances" or moments of listening or just being with Him, even for a few seconds, can be. And five minutes of resting body and mind, "floating" in God's presence, has helped me get through more than one tough afternoon.

She continues, "The important thing is not to think much but to love much and so do that which best stirs you to love. Love is not great delight but desire to please God in everything."

I do desire to please God in everything, but fall so short so often. Too frequently, I aim to please myself in my activities. I think much instead of loving much. So I am pondering on doing "that which best stirs you to love," because honestly, I need to give more thought to this question.

But I love the 15 minutes as a goal. Fifteen minutes of "intimate sharing" with the One who knows me best and loves me anyway. I can try for that!

A Deep Breath

I feel like this blog has been hurtling along at a breathless pace for the last six months or so. So many new things in our lives to write about--new church, new house, new schools, new friends. Normally, I dislike melancholy Autumn, but with the first month of school behind us and everybody settling into their "new normal" routines, this October feels like a chance to finally take a deep breath.

I heard a story once that has never left me, about a mission organization that went into a third world jungle area to build an air strip. They hired natives to carry tools and wield machetes to clear their way through the jungle to the site, for so many hours each day in order to arrive at the site on the target date. The natives disapproved of the aggressive schedule, but they held to it for several days until one afternoon, when they stopped working suddenly, sat down and refused to budge. "What's the matter?" the Westerners wanted to know. "Why can't we go on?"

"We have to wait, " the natives explained, "for our souls to catch up to our bodies."

As I write that, I think about homeschooling and the more leisurely pace we are traveling this fall, compared to the curriculum- and schedule-driven pace we were keeping for the last several years. This summer, as I looked toward the fall, the one thing I KNEW was that I could not jump back on that treadmill again. I didn't think my boys could either. We needed to give our souls a chance to catch up to our bodies. It's been a good decision.

Spiritually, too, my life has been full of breathless quickie prayers and the merest sips of Scripture. I don't feel dry--God has really sustained me through all the busyness--but I'm overdue for letting my soul "catch up."

I'm not even sure how to go about it. Writing has always been, for me, a way of processing what's going on inside, so that will be part of it. Reading, too, has always enriched and nourished my mind and heart. I want to join the Gratitude Community, too.

But I wonder if I can also find some time for solitude, which Richard Foster, author of Celebration of Discipline, in a recent Christianity Today interview said is the discipline that evangelicals need to be exploring more:

It is the most foundational of the disciplines of abstinence, the via negativa. The evangelical passion for engagement with the world is good. But as Thomas à Kempis says, the only person who's safe to travel is the person who's free to stay at home. And Pascal said that we would solve the world's problems if we just learned to sit in our room alone. Solitude is essential for right engagement.

My little story fits right in with his travel metaphors, I think! I highly recommend the whole interview.

And this short article which I just found while looking for the other, is so perfect that I must quote from it too:

In solitude, I was able to be with God and with what was true about me in utter privacy. There was time and space to attend to what was real in my own life — to celebrate the joys, grieve the losses, sit with my questions, attend to my loneliness, shed my tears — and allow God to be with me in those places.

This was not primarily a time for problem-solving or fixing — because not everything can be fixed or solved. It was a time just to "keep still" and wait for God to accomplish what was most needed in my life. It was a very deep kind of rest indeed.

Go and read the rest--it's short!--especially if you are a church leader. (And I think her words to church leaders apply to Christian parents as well.)

So I'm feeling the need for some solitude, to let my soul catch up to my body...to take a deep breath. I doubt I'll be able to go on an extended retreat, but I'm hoping to find an hour here and there. I think even an hour will seem like a long time to me.

Wait Up!!!!

I forget where I heard this little story, but I think of it often:

There once were Western missionaries who went to minister to a primitive culture. I forget what the specific objective was--it might have been finding a certain village or clearing the ground for an airstrip--but the missionaries and some of the natives had several days to travel through the jungle. The natives were in favor of a leisurely pace, but the Westerners wanted to get there in three days, not four, so they pushed relentlessly onward, until the natives sat down on a log and refused to go a step further. "We need to wait," they said, "for our souls to catch up to our bodies."

The past couple of weeks, I've been panting to keep up with my life. It seems I've just had an unusual number of time-consuming responsibilities and commitments that are above and beyond my usual ones.

And somewhere, in all the busy-ness of mind and body, my soul has lagged behind. I feel anxious, emotional, and stressed. I read the Scriptures and I pray, but it isn't "sinking in" so well, as my mind quickly turns from one pressure-filled task to the next.

I haven't had time to spend writing, either, which for me is a reflective activity which helps my mind and heart communicate. I am not always in touch with my emotions until I start writing, which is why journalling has always been a big part of my prayer life.

So that's why I'm writing this post instead of designing Charlotte's Web makeup, assigning makeup committee members and recruiting volunteers to do 26+ animal faces before each show, and drafting an email telling all the human characters what to do with their hair, eyeshadow, etc. Oh, and buying more makeup and calling friends who still haven't bought tickets. The first dress rehearsal is in 9 days!

This is the fun stuff though. I'm glad my plate is finally cleared enough to be able to give it my attention. I just wish I could have started on it earlier....

I really work better at a hen's pace.

House-Selling Update

“If you don’t have it now, you don’t need it now.”

I once heard Elizabeth Elliott say this on her radio program, and it struck me so much that I jotted it down immediately. Stuck in a 1400-square-foot townhome with three preschoolers and a work-from-home husband, I longed for a bigger house. These words gave me patience, and in time, the Lord provided what has been a perfect home for us.

Now, with our house on the market and not a buyer in sight for the past 9 or 10 weeks, I’m finding comfort in those words again. Much as we’d like to be living in Wisconsin now, building relationships and throwing our energy into the church plant there, God must not need us there yet. I’m fully confident that He can and will move us exactly when He wants.

We are getting used to the hour-and-twenty-five-minute drive on Sundays. We all have our little routines: Papa Rooster preaches sermons in his head as he drives; the older kids read or sleep; I sip coffee from a travel mug, open mail, or write in a Word document on my laptop--while keeping the two youngest supplied with books and toys. Papa Rooster drives up there one night a week, after work, to meet with the core team, and spends the night since it’s closer to his work than here. So things are still moving forward with the church, despite our geographical location.

On the home front, I have a lot more peace than I had a few weeks ago, since we made the big decision to unpack the PODS. Back in April, when it was delivered to our driveway, I was full of faith that we’d be moved by Christmas for sure. So I packed up everything I figured we could live without for a few months, including all our winter clothes and outerwear.

As time went by and we realized how bad the real estate market is, I became less and less eager to finish packing up the PODS and have them come take it away. My packing had slowed to a standstill, in fact, with over a fourth of the space in the PODS still to go. We sent out an SOS to friends to pray for us, we dropped our price—and still nothing happened with our house.

But what happened with me was that I became peaceful. It seemed obvious, now, that of course we would unpack the PODS to get things we needed; it seemed we were continually adding to our list of items missed. We’d repack with a longer-term vision in mind, or maybe--not at all. (Since we did unpack most of it, a couple weekends ago, into our garage--maybe we'll just unpack the rest and store it there. Easy access and no monthly rental!)

And though we can't completely jettison the moving mindset--since we could still sell our house any day--we’ll just keep doing the next thing: homeschooling, doing musicals, keeping the house clean, cooking meals, writing sermons...

...and driving a long way to church.

Unexpected Afternoon

My blender broke last week. It was brand new. I made fruit smoothies with it once, and the next time I filled it up with yogurt and frozen bananas and frozen berry blend, it was dead.

I had ordered it from Amazon, so I opted to return it to the not-so-nearby service center rather than pay shipping back to Amazon--if indeed they would even take it back; I don't know. With my children cheerily assuring me that they knew exactly what to do for their schoolwork, I allowed myself to be pushed out the door to do that errand this afternoon.

The service center was not in an area that I ever have reason to go near, ordinarily, but it was a straightforward process to drop it off; they'll let me know in 5 days whether it's being repaired or replaced. As I headed for home, it seemed like I had a bit of unexpected time to myself, if I wanted to take some, so I stopped at a monastery where I had spent a day once, years ago.

People often think that "monastery" refers to a place where monks live, and "convent" refers to a place where nuns live, but actually, either gender can live in either place. This monastery had sisters, and there were darn few of them left, it seemed, when I had been there for a personal retreat day. They had begun turning their ministry into a nursing home, and when I returned there today, I hardly recognized the place. Huge wings had been added to house more residents; a whole section of "retirement villas" filled what had been an enormous front lawn. It clearly was run by a professional staff now, not just a few nuns.

The chapel that I remembered was unavailable; it's only open once a day now, for Mass. The grounds were entirely changed by the additions, and I couldn't even locate the lovingly tended garden area that I remembered so well, where an unfearful squirrel had come right up to me as I had sat on a bench, praying, soaking up the silence and receiving much-needed rest for my soul.

They have a really cool European-style grotto there, a vision made reality in the 1920's by the labors of a nearby orphanage for boys, now a Catholic boys' school. When I was there before, you could explore its stony twists and turns, follow them up and down and through stone gateways, admire the plantings in and around the rocks, pray at its altar area. I always meant to take my kids there sometime on a mini field trip to see a real, live grotto. Now, they have enclosed the whole thing with an iron fence, with no gate.

The only thing that was as I remembered it was the little cemetery in the woods at the back edge of the property. Row after row of "Sister Mary Somebodys" lie there, their graves marked by identical granite headstones flat against the ground. I remembered it as a deeply peaceful place, and it was still that.

I wandered among the graves, looking at dates, wondering about the two nuns buried side by side who both died in their twenties. Cancer? Influenza? It was ninety years ago. One nun had died in World War II, in her fifties; hers was the only headstone with any additional information on it. Here were those who had died in the last five years. How many sisters were left, to join those here?

I pondered the sacrifice, the dedication of those buried here. They made their choice to forsake marriage and children out of love for God, out of a desire to serve Him...possibly with other motives or circumstances fueling their choice; but are any of us able to love Him purely?

They knew what it was to seek to serve Him, following their best lights, even when they couldn't see very far down the road. They knew what it was to try and live a life of devotion, despite rubbing elbows with very human beings, full of frailties and sin.

I am not Catholic, but in the company of the mortal remains of those sisters, I could almost understand where the tradition of praying to saints began. I have heard it described as just like me turning to you and asking you to pray for me; why not turn to ask those near to God's throne, those now with perfected wisdom--and time on their hands, so to speak--to pray for us? I wanted to ask these sisters, who had known what it was like to serve God throughout their life span, to pray for me in the midst of anxiety and uncertainty in mine.

"A little light, please, Lord," I prayed. "Just a little light to see just the next step." We've put our house on the market, but no one has even looked at it in six weeks.

My children's faces rose to mind. Six days into a new homeschooling year, and already I was ready for a break. "I need strength, Lord, to serve you in the midst of my family. I can be so selfish."

I sat for a moment on a cement wall. I should stop talking and listen, I thought.

Have more love, daughter.

Love casts out fear.

Yes.

That's so right.

Fill me, Lord! I cried out. I am such a leaky vessel!

We are meant to leak, I thought, meant to have to come daily to the Lord for His replenishment...and sometimes, we need to drink more deeply than those little hurried sips.

Thank you, Lord, for the deep drink of silence, of solitude, of solidarity in mission, and for Your replenishing words today. I'm glad you got my attention for awhile here today--even if You had to break my blender to do it.

(It's a Braun, for heaven's sake, top-rated by Consumer Reports; there's no earthly reason...!)

Maybe when I have to drive back next week to pick it up, I'll bring my kids along to see the grotto. It's still pretty cool to see, walking around the perimeter.

And I don't know if they'll have any grottos in Wisconsin....

Works for Me Wednesday #6

Do you hate changing burnt-out light bulbs?

About 2 years ago, I started replacing light bulbs throughout our home with compact fluorescent bulbs. They're more expensive initially but you save about $30 off your electric bill over the lifetime of each bulb. They use about 75% less energy, produce 75% less heat (so you save on cooling costs), and last 10 times longer!

And the light they produce is very similar to the incandescents we're all used to. In fact, I like the CFL light better in some settings; it seems brighter for less--or comparable?--wattage...I'm not sure. I just know you buy the equivalent to a 60-watt, but it looks brighter to me than the standard 60-watt.

I think I pay around $3.44 per bulb, and if you buy one each time you're in the light bulb section (because of course you'll still need your special shaped bulbs for that chandelier or bathroom fixture), it's not hard at all on the budget. If you're lucky enough to have an Aldi, you can pick one up while you're standing in the checkout line, which is where I was when the light bulb came on for me. ( So to speak.)

But you will find yourself needing fewer and fewer lightbulbs, because these things last forever! I've only replaced one so far, and that's because we--okay, I--smacked it with some blunt object when we were moving furniture around preparing to paint. It didn't break, but it began to smoke and melt and smell--it was quite the exciting moment, actually.

They say you'll save the most money if you use them in frequently-used lamps, but the first place I tried them was in the bedroom closets, because I was tired of draggin' out the stepstool.

Saving energy, saving money, and spending less time buying and replacing light bulbs...works for me!

Visit Rocks in my Dryer for more Works-for-Me posts.

What Will Make You Happy?

Continuing with my current musings on choosing joy (recent posts are here and here)....

This educational, inspirational video is 22 minutes long, but WELL WORTH the time. (If you're really pressed for time, skip the first segment...but then go back for it later!) Here's their blurb about it:

Psychologist Dan Gilbert challenges the idea that we'll be miserable if we don't get what we want. Our "psychological immune system" lets us feel real, enduring happiness, he says, even when things don't go as planned. He calls this kind of happiness "synthetic happiness," and he says it's "every bit as real and enduring as the kind of happiness you stumble upon when you get exactly what you were aiming for."

There is so much fascinating research in this entertaining lecture that pertains to the idea of choosing joy, but let me point out a few things especially.

One is that we are pitifully bad at knowing what really will make us happy. Some things that we think will make us happy--for example, more choices--actually make us more miserable, the research shows! Incredibly, so does having the option to change our minds.

We also overestimate the significance of desirable circumstances. We think that if we just get the promotion, win the election, get the big break, etc., etc,....we'd be more happy. And it's simply NOT TRUE. In fact, three months later, it's as if the big event never happened, in terms of our happiness--whether we gained or lost what we wanted.

In fact, there has been research on two different groups of people: lottery winners, and folks who lose the use of their legs and end up in a wheelchair. Believe it or not, one year later, both are equally happy!

You'd probably never guess that when we have no choice, we are the happiest. The speaker gives fascinating example after example of how this is true. He explains that in these circumstances, our brains actually manufacture what he calls "synthetic happiness" with our lot, and it's just as real as when we get what we want.

Applications abound, it seems to me. Apparently, commitment is a big factor in happiness, which makes me think immediately of marriage. Their levels of commitment explain why previous generations who did not view divorce as an option self-describe as truly very happy with their marriages, and why couples who live together before marriage are so much more likely to divorce. It also explains why, when we truly give up trying to change our spouses and accept who they are--bad and good--we feel happier and we like them better. (Don't miss that last link to one of my favorite books on marriage.)

Additionally, making a choice brings a lot more happiness than indecision, and for those who struggle with indecision, doesn't it make you happier to know that whatever you choose, you can be happy with it? I find this knowledge most comforting.

I think immediately of making a purchase, like homeschool curriculum or a house. These are both decisions in my near future, and it's so interesting to compare them. I told my husband weeks ago that even though we haven't been able to find "the perfect house" yet in Wisconsin, I just knew that whatever we end up choosing, I will find things to love about it. Choosing a home, of course, is almost as irrevocable a choice as getting married, in my book--unless you just love keeping your house realtor-ready at all time, and packing and moving all your belongings every couple of years. (Sigh.... Blegh!) So of course I AM going to be happy in my new house.

Choosing curriculum is another story. As all homeschoolers know, it is so easy to be dissatisfied with your decisions because there are so many other options out there, with someone, who has chosen them, just so happy with their choice! (Can I get an Amen?) So it stands to reason that homeschoolers with fewer choices because of budget, or who tend to choose reusable vs. consumable curriculum, are probably happier than those who continually revisit their choices. The same applies to plenty of other purchase decisions as well.

In fact, those of us who can make a choice and move on are happier than those who choose, but keep watching prices or reading reviews to see if something better comes along. Harboring regret sounds like a choice that is not conducive to happiness either.

Other obvious applications are that limiting our choices--and the number of choices we give our kids--is a happiness-producer, as is accepting our limitations like health, energy level, sleep needs, our geographical location, or circumstances like our children's current ages, our husband's job, or our income level. (See this post for more on that idea.)

I think the psalmist knew the kind of happiness that we all can experience from accepting our lot when he said in Psalms 16:5-6:

LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I've only unpacked a few of the things that this video made me think about. Maybe I'll take it a little further later. But in the meantime, do go watch. It's so thought-provoking; feel free to share your thoughts on it here in the comments, or if it inspires a post on your own blog, please leave a link here!

A Shopping Sabbatical

Check out this article about a group who compacted not to buy anything new (food, toiletries and underwear exempted) for a year.

Besides thrift stores and garage sales, participants found a wealth of free or previously owned merchandise in online classifieds and sites where people post stuff they want to get rid of, such as http://www.freecycle.org and http://www.garbagescout.com.

After going through an initial period of retail withdrawal, discovering just how easy it was to score pretty much anything with a little time and effort was an eye-opener, according to participants.

Rachel Kesel, 26, who works as a dog walker, said she was astonished by how often the items she needed simply materialized — the friend who offered a bicycle seat when hers was stolen, the Apple store employees who fixed her laptop at no cost.

Similarly fortuitous timing happened often enough that group members came up with a name for it — "Compact Karma."

This is fascinating to me, because I have experienced the same thing. Something I thought about buying, but didn't, will often turn up for next to nothing at a garage sale or resale shop.

Once, when my two oldest boys were little, they were begging for Batman and Superman costumes for dress-up. At Party City, those costumes were $26 each. Neither boy had a birthday coming up, and I just couldn't bring myself to spend that much money. Weeks went by, and one Saturday morning, I pulled up at a garage sale and there, hanging from track of the garage door, were a Batman and a Superman costume--in the exact sizes of my boys!

The Lord--or Karma? (Maybe the anti-consumerist mentality is dearer to the Lord's heart than most Americans would guess!)

"One of the byproducts of The Compact has been I have a completely different relationship with the things in my life. I appreciate the stuff I have more," [a participant] said.

Related article here--one I happened to bookmark a year ago about the same group.

After-Christmas Commentary: Christmas Day

We spent Christmas alone, just our family, for the first time in seven years. (Usually Papa Rooster's parents come over for the morning, but this year they drove in to Chicago to spend the whole day with his brother and his family. On Tuesday they all came to our house.)

We had Morning Prayer together and then turned our attention to the sea of gift bags that surrounded the tree. I wrap most of the younger two's gifts so that they can have the satisfaction of rrrrrripping that paper off. But the older ones don't care, and since it's faster than wrapping, I go for the gift bags most of the time, wrapping the item up in an opaque plastic bag--to discourage peekers--before stuffing tissue paper on top. Quick, reusable, and needing little in the way of decoration, the only problem with them is that you can't easily stack them under the tree!

For posterity (and character development in the grand plot of this blog), it may be of interest to report on a few of the most successful gifts, especially the ones that didn't cost much. How does one keep Christmas from becoming a financial nightmare when trying to please six children?

First, one asks them for a list, and one gives immediate feedback on the list. "Don't hold your breath, dearie, for the laptop. Better not count on that iPod, either. How much do Heelies cost?" (Upon researching the latter question, these gym shoes with built-in wheels in the heels are not to be had--anywhere--for less than $70, and since the requester, Bantam11, is outgrowing shoes every six months, it was lovingly explained that he should not expect these under the tree.)

Having accepted financial realities, they usually shift focus to smaller things they'd like to have, and I do my best to please, while staying out of the expensive stores. I didn't even set foot in the mall this year; their gifts all came from Target, Aldi, Dollar General, Half.com, and Bath and Body Works (I had a 33% off coupon!).

And I always supplement and surprise them with garage sale and resale shop finds. These items are not usually on their lists, but they were, for one reason or another, too good to pass up, and the kids usually recognize that same quality in them. One of my biggest scores this year cost me a mere $10 at a garage sale last summer and delighted all three of the Bantams--a Lego spaceship, UFO, boat, jail and X-wing fighter, plus two zip-lock bags of assorted Lego parts including 4 much-fought-over foundational bases. They divvied everything up very amicably and seem extremely pleased to possess and play with these models even though they did not have the pleasure of assembling them. The X-wing fighter, it turns out, is a discontinued model worth at least $45 on Ebay, and I am just the coolest mom ever, to have had the luck to find it and the sense to buy it!

We did very well at Dollar General: sticker books and paint-with-water books delighted the younger crowd; Chicklet4 adores her porcelain ballerina doll and feathery princess tiara; Bantam 7 fools us all with his spy binoculars; Bitty Bantam's light-up bouncy ball was a hit all around, and Blondechick14's request for a jar candle was easily met there. One of the coolest things I found there was a $20 electric piano, on sale for $10, which seems to be remarkably good quality (i.e. it's still looking and sounding good after 48+ hours in our home). The keyboard folds in half so that two players can play it at once, and it has all kinds of settings and accompaniments. We gave it to the two piano lesson-takers, Bantams 7 & 11.

In keeping with the musical theme, the two boys each got a $3 harmonica, which delighted them both, and Bantam11 is already playing recognizable tunes. I saw them at the music store while buying the piano books ($11) they had requested--Bantam 11 is eager to learn some easy Beatles arrangements, while Bantam 7 will work up some simple Disney movie musical numbers. While I was there, I checked for any deals on Broadway-type karaoke/accompaniment CD's which we could use for auditions, and found a reasonable 2-disc anthology of choices for Blondechick14, who's been anxious to start working on her next audition.

A few more scores:

Bantam 7--an I Spy book and the only McDuff book we didn't have, both for quarters at a resale shop. (I Spy and McDuff are way up there on his list of favorites.) He also asked for and received boxers and black stretchy gloves, thin enough that the fingers fit in the trigger section of an Airsoft gun. Having just seen the first one for the first time (these poor deprived fourth-borns), he was thrilled to receive Toy Story 2 (we ordered a like-new DVD from Half.com for half the price of one from Target)

Bantam 15--a graphic novel based on H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds (which he asked for and I purchased with my teacher's discount at Borders), black leather gloves ($7 at Aldi), 3-D puzzle of the Capitol (still in the shrink-wrap, $2 at a garage sale), books on the military (from garage sales), and a new backpack

Chicklet4-- picture books from garage sales, especially a version of Cinderella, which accompanied a darling Cinderella pumpkin coach from Odd Lots ($8, and it goes with a playset she received for her birthday last September, thus revitalizing that possession)

Bantam 11--a CD mix that Blondechick14 made for him, a CD holder, cologne, skateboarding stickers (which delighted him almost as much as Heelies would have), and a plush tiger rug/blanket from Aldi (this was his expensive and most thrilling gift at $17)

Blondechick14--small purse, large purse, winter coat that converts to vest (all on clearance at Target), earrings, footless tights, body spray, and 2 DVD's (which I did not have the foresight to order from Half.com)

Bitty Bantam--play fruits and veggies from the dollar aisle at Target (he and Chicklet are playing picnic all the time now) and a chunky toddler schoolbus I found at a garage sale.

Papa Rooster and I had agreed to not exchange gifts for Christmas, since we spent beaucoup bucks earlier in the month on a family gift--a heavy-duty, won't-break treadmill, for all the runners we have in our house now! And he gave me a special anniversary gift for our 20th--a sapphire-and-diamond cross on a gold chain, with matching sapphire studs. Beautiful (he has great taste), and they were on sale. Still, it's a good thing we economized on the kids, dontcha think?

Perhaps our best Christmas gift cost us nothing at all, and it arrived on Christmas afternoon--the news that my sister-in-law (Pilot Brother's wife) had given birth, on Christmas Eve, to my newest niece, and that they were both healthy and well!

Which brought our minds around to other free gifts we enjoy--health, family, friends, salvation, and meaning in life, all because of the gift of another baby born 2,000 years ago. It's a cliche, but it's true--the best things in life are free!

30 Days of Nothing--Update

Well, I said here that we weren't going to participate by buying nothing...but as it has turned out, we've been so busy beginning a new homeschooling year, a new musical, and a new writing class (which I'm teaching), that I haven't had time to set foot in any store but Aldi since the month began (oh, and Panera, while I wait for my kids during rehearsals). We sure haven't been eating as well as Tonia though--this month I'm sooooo grateful for frozen pizza, prepared bags of salad and baby carrots, and kids old enough to make their own soup and sandwiches. (Poor Papa Rooster--to get what he considers a real meal, we've had to order pizza twice.)

Actually, we're not eating that badly. I suppose I also am grateful for the organic veggie subscription we bought for the harvest season, because I've been forced to do something with the veggies, though I haven't had much time for it this month! Last week I made potato, leek and onion soup from scratch, and it was delish. This week we had spaghetti squash with tomatoes, onions, and eggplant--all of it organic--and though the kids had to bury it in Parmesan cheese to make it palatable, I kept thinking how good it was for us! We've had so many fresh heirloom-variety tomatoes that we're beginning to tire of them, and I've even had to throw some out.

That strikes me as a metaphor for the abundance we enjoy in our society. We have so much that we take what we have for granted, then tire of it and throw it away. I said that this month we were going to pay attention to what we were paying for, if nothing else, but I've also found myself paying attention to what we're throwing out (actually, giving to charity). In late August, after our summer guest moved out of "the junk room," I began a decluttering project that was interrupted by our Labor Day weekend trip. Since then, I've only been able to work on it in moments here and there. But it sure has got me thinking about the "back door" of consumerism:

Learning how to get rid of our possessions has become as much a part of homemaking as cooking and cleaning. Spring and fall cleaning, for most of us, now means "decluttering." Look at the popularity of Flylady's 27 Fling Boogie! Giving away and throwing away things is a survival skill American parents have to teach their children, in order to keep them from being overwhelmed by all. their. stuff. Does this seem as wrong to you as it does to me? Why don't we just buy less stuff in the first place?

One of the most helpful things I read when I was a newer parent was Clay Trumbull's hundred-year-old book, Hints on Child's Training. In a chapter called "Denying a Child Wisely," he says:

One of the hardest and one of the most important things in the training of a loved child is to deny him that which he longs for, and which we could give to him, but which he would better not have.

It is very pleasant to gratify a child. There is real enjoyment in giving to him what he asks for, when we can do it prudently. But wise withholding is quite as important as generous giving in the proper care of a child.

If in childhood one is taught to deny himself, to yield gracefully much that he longs for, to enjoy the little that he can have in spite of the lack of a great deal which he would like to have, his lot will be an easier and happier one, when he comes to the realities of maturer life...

It is not that a child is to be denied what he wants, merely for the sake of the denial itself; but it is that a child ought not to have what he wants merely because he wants it.

As a child, my parents said no to me all the time, it seemed--and I'm grateful. Now, I say no to my kids far more often than they like to hear, more often than their friends seem to hear it--and probably not as often as I should, for I certainly struggle with sorting out our "needs" from our "wants." But I hope one day my kids will be grateful that I said no as often as I did. I hope they'll be able to be content with little and generous with the rest.

I read with interest Tonia's most recent update on her 30 Days of Nothing experience. She admits that it has been hard to keep the needs of the poor in mind, while she is trying to break her own selfishness and "self-numbing materialism." I confess that the plight of the poor--though it deeply saddens, even haunts, me--is not a great motivator for me in this area. It's just too far removed to think that foregoing ice cream cones for my kids will really make a difference in the world situation. (I know no one's saying it will.)

But foregoing that stop for treats because it's best for my kids is much more of an incentive to me. Do I want to model that eating out is a regular thing, or a rare thing? Do I look for excuses to run to Target--or stock up when I'm there, in order to avoid going shopping so often? Do we buy everything new, or look first in the resale shops? Do we stick to the list, or fill up the cart with impulse purchases? My kids are watching...and learning.

We know a young couple that is expecting a baby. They are living on a shoestring while he's in grad school, and they are consciously cultivating a mindset of not "needing" things. (I believe their ideology has grown partly out of their travels to third world countries.) She's worn the same maternity dress nearly every day for the past few months, her mom said; she just rinses it out at night and it dries by morning. She doesn't think she needs more than that one outfit! She didn't register anywhere for baby gifts. She told her mom that they have 4 outfits and a blanket--that and some diapers are all they'll really need, she thinks. (Her mom told her a baby can go through 4 outfits in an afternoon, of course.)

They've clearly got some learning ahead of them, and they're going to have their struggles. But poor financial stewardship, "comfort spending" and worrying about too much clutter probably won't be among them! They may be a little idealistic, but I truly admire their low-need, simple way of looking at life.

The 30 Days of Nothing has got me thinking--a lot--about year-round choices and habits, and especially how they affect the next generation.

30 Days of Nothing

It's September 1--the first day of Tonia's 30 Days of Nothing challenge. I've been trying to decide how we can participate.

It's a challenge to fast from our mindset of affluence, from our addictions to consumerism. Like a fast from a favorite food, the purpose isn't to change the world but to change us as individuals:

The goal of this month-long fast is to break the grip of materialism in our hearts and minds. We want to live in gratitude, not discontent; and we want to live with awareness of the great responsibility our affluence has laid on our shoulders.

Actually, our family has already taken this challenge. When Papa Rooster very suddenly lost his job about a year ago, we lived this way for six months--buying nothing but absolute necessities. To be very honest, I'm not eager to do it again.

It's not that it was so hard on me. I have to confess that I am frugal by nature (or by nurture--my parents were the same way). It was almost a relief to me to have our circumstances put a lid on spending for our family, to have my husband as motivated as I was not to spend money, to have my kids not asking for things because they just knew: we didn't have any money (coming in). I guess I'm just afraid that our stint of deprivation is still too fresh in their minds for the kids--or my husband--to be willing participants in this as an exercise.

[Tangential update on our activites: In addition, we're already directing our energies into so many new things this month. We've started school this week (which is going more smoothly than I expected: Thank you, Lord! How often does that happen?) Next week I begin teaching a writing class to our newly-formed homeschool co-op and carpool. At church, where my husband and I are both leaders, we are planning and adding a second service in two weeks. Rehearsals for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe begin tonight for Bantam 11 and Blondechick 13, and the Makeup Committee, which I'm chairing, has to figure out how six or seven of us are going to get 89 kids made up into Narnian animals and cruelies--gotta design all that, too--in the mere hour before each show and dress rehearsal. Papa Rooster has new projects at work and he's gone next week for his company's fall conference where it will be his sad job to wine and dine their clients...no cutting back on the joys of an affluent culture for him! (Though I know how much he'd rather be home with us.) And we're going camping this weekend!]

So instead of experiencing this month, I think I'll focus on educating. So many of our societal problems with excessive consumption and debt begin with attitudes of the heart, like confusing needs with wants, seeking security and fulfillment in material things, elevating self-fulfillment to the place of an idol (vs. living a life of joyful sacrificial submission to the circumstances in which God has placed us) and the good old-fashioned vices of avarice (greed) and indulgence.

Doesn't that sound like a good curriculum for our morning devotions?

When I introduced the topic this morning, Blondechick 13 got it right away. "Oh, yeah, when I go shopping I always want to buy things I don't really need."

Attagirl. This month we're going to pay attention to what we're paying for, if nothing else.

Better Off

Better Off , by Eric Brende, was one of the most intriguing and thought-provoking books I've read in a long time. It's the real-life story of a couple who live "off the grid" in an Amish-type community for 18 months. Their purpose is to research by experience (for his MIT master's thesis) what modern culture may be missing by its dependence on technology.

His findings were fascinating. One of the most interesting, to me, was the way that technology causes us to compartmentalize: we go to the office to work, we go to the gym to work out, we carve out "family time" here and "a social life" there. In the low-tech lifestyle, one gets plenty of exercise while working, and without audio or video/computer images to keep folks company, work becomes an excuse for social occasions as well.

[I admit this kind of thinking is in my blood. Growing up on a farm, we had fruit trees and a large garden, and my mom would sometimes call a friend to come over and visit and help her can tomatoes or pears. She had no qualms about making me and my best friend sit down and shell peas with my brothers--"many hands make light work," she'd say--and I remember lots of joke-telling and hilarious pea-shooting fights that made the time go fast. Corn-freezing day started with Dad and Grandpa picking the corn at daybreak; we kids would be pulled out of bed to help husk, while Mom, Grandma, a hired woman and my aunt boiled, cut from the cob, and set up, filled and labelled boxes with corn destined for the freezer. Some years the last box wasn't filled till 9 or 10 p.m. It was a long, tiring day, but also peculiarly exhilarating to have accomplished--so much--together.]

I was also intrigued by his observations about community. Distance isolated people, yet work and their faith brought them together regularly. When he and his wife left this community, they looked for somewhere they could transport the principles they had learned. They chose a downtown area of St. Louis, in a regentrifying area that was not yet expensive, in which church and the stores they needed were within walking or bicycling distance. They have a car, but use it mainly for cross-country trips. They have a phone, but he comments that in the course of bicycling to stores and customers, he usually sees, in person, most people he needs to speak to. (This near-idyllic existence is being threatened by the impending arrival of a Walmart on the fringe of town.)

[And the suburban-dweller's lament is: (All together now?) "It's so hard to get together/make it to church during the week/arrange playdates when we all live so far apart!"]

Their work is all home-based. He finished part of their home as a bed & breakfast; they make soap--which they sell and also trade for organic veggies; he takes engagements to play piano; and he takes tourists around St. Louis on the weekends in a bicycle-powered rickshaw. They've begun homeschooling and are amazed at the fruits of a childhood without computers, movies, and iPods. They don't eschew technology across the board--he outlines criteria for when it makes sense--but in most cases, they find that the low-tech solution serves them best. (One interesting point he makes is that machines should serve us, not the reverse, yet technology can place a great demand on our time, attention and resources, even sucking the very life out of us, as the movie The Matrix chillingly portrayed.) [That last bit was from Papa Rooster. I doubt Eric Brende saw The Matrix, but I bet he'd agree!]

I'm not ready to turn Amish or pitch my laptop, but I am inspired to view my life a little differently. This week I drove Chicklet 3 to a local VBS every morning. The church is all of 3 blocks from my home, but it didn't occur to me till the last day to ride my bike (with child carrier seat) over to pick her up! Even with gas prices what they are, it's just a habit to start up my minivan. But how much more enjoyable, mind-freeing and spirit-lifting it was for both of us on my bike.

A quote from his time with the "Minimite" community:

Time moved more slowly but also...we had more of it...we were able to relax and read the way we were doing right now; in the absence of fast-paced gizmos, ringing phones, alarm clocks, television, radios, and cars, we could simply take our time. In being slower, time is more capacious. The event is only in the moment. By speeding through life with technology, you reduce what any given moment can hold. By slowing down, you expand it.

I think I'll start by letting my answering machine get the phone.

I like the irony. Technology... serving me...to serve technology!

Trying to Obey

I got up early, before the kids, to be silent for an hour. I sat on the deck and listened to the birds and watched the squirrels.

In the silence, I had time and space to process a painful conflict from the weekend. When the hour was up, I opened up my other blog, my private blog, and poured out my feelings. I reread this post, looked up some Scriptures, and did my best to own my part and start the process of forgiving.

This afternoon I found myself, after an unusual set of circumstances, alone in my minivan, driving in silence. I wanted to turn on the radio or put in a tape. I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call someone. I drove in silence. I felt a little tired. I prayed for a friend. I thought of someone to call...later. I drove on in silence.

It was nice. It was...refreshing.

Tonight, I looked up what Sister Wendy has to say about silence in her little Book of Meditations.

Silence is a paradox, intensely there and, with equal intensity, not there. The passivity of silence is hard to explain, since in one respect it is intensely active. We hold ourselves in a condition of surrender. We choose not to initiate, not to cooperate with our mental processes. Yet from this passivity arises creativity. This mysterious liberation from all commonplace demands is exemplified in Rebecca Salter's abstractions, which have been compared to gazing at a waterfall. Salter seems to have painted silence itself; the work is both alive and moving, and yet still, so that the eye wanders absorbed and yet patternless, through and among the shapes. There is nothing to say, nothing even to experience in any words that sound impressive, yet the looking never wearies. This is a rough image, in its very imagelessness, of the bliss of silence.

Entering into silence is like stepping into cold water. The dust and debris are quietly washed away, and we are purified of our triviality. This cleansing takes place whether we are conscious of it or not; the very choice of silence, of desiring to be still, washes away the day's grime.

Ahhh, maybe that's why I love a silent house at night...

Getting the Message

...in my e-mailbox:

It is always easier to add to the noise of the world than to be silent.

Silence is a very precious thing--"There was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour" (Rv 8:1 AV), when the seventh seal was opened in the Book of the Revelation. Thunder and horses and martyrs and earthquakes had preceded the opening of this seal. Hail, fire, blood, and fearful judgment followed it--but in between, angels stood in the presence of God and there was utter silence.

Have we learned to stand in God's presence, mouths shut, hearts open? "Lord, what do you want me to do?" We must be quiet in order to know Him and to hear Him and to hear Him answer us.

"Be still"--that is, shut up--"and know that He is God" (Ps 46:10 AV).
Elizabeth Elliott, A Lamp For My Feet

...on my kids' boomboxes:

What's it gonna take
to slow us down
To let the silence spin us around?
What's it gonna take
to drop this town?
We've been spinning at the speed of sound.

Stepping out of those convenience stores,
what could we want but more more more?
From the third world
to the corporate core
we are the symphony of modern humanity.

If we're adding to the noise
turn off this song.
If we're adding to the noise
turn off your stereo, radio, video...
Switchfoot ("Adding to the Noise")

...from the pulpit:

The Transfiguration August 6

O God, who on the holy mount revealed to chosen witnesses
your well-beloved Son, wonderfully transfigured, in raiment
white and glistening: Mercifully grant that we, being
delivered from the disquietude of this world, may by faith
behold the King in his beauty; who with you, O Father, and
you, O Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and
ever. Amen.

(Added later)
...and reading blogs!

The Interior Voice of the Spirit

It is certain from the Holy Scriptures that the Spirit of God dwells within us. There he acts, there he prays without ceasing, groans, desires, and asks for us what we do not know how to ask for ourselves. The Spirit urges us on, animates us, speaks to us when we are silent, suggests to us all truth, and so unites us to him that we become one spirit. (Thank you, Lord!)

That is the teaching of faith, and even those teachers farthest removed from the interior life cannot avoid acknowledging it to be so. To be sure, there are some who strive to maintain that in practice, we are illuminated by external law, or by the light of learning and reason, and that then our understanding acts of itself from that instruction. They do not rely sufficiently on upon the interior Teacher, the Holy Spirit, who does everything within us. We could not form a thought or desire without him. Alas, what blindness is ours! We suppose ourselves alone in the inner sanctuary, when God is more intimately present there than we are ourselves.

...We are then, always inspired, but we incessantly stifle the inspiration. God does not cease to speak, but the noise of the world around us, and the noise of our passions within, prevent our hearing him. ...How rare it is to find a soul still enough to hear God speak! The slightest murmur of our vain desires, or of a love fixed upon self, confounds all the words of the Spirit of God.

We hear well enough that he is speaking and that he is asking for something, but we cannot distinguish what is said, and often we are glad that we cannot. The least reserve, the slightest act rooted in self-consideration, the most imperceptible fear of hearing too clearly what God demands interferes with the still, small voice.

(Francois Fenelon, Talking With God--bold and italics mine)

Further Advice "To A Woman Beset By Many Tasks"

"My God, Madame, we will soon be in eternity, and then we will see how all the affairs of this world are such little things and how little it matters whether they turn out or not. At this time, nevertheless, we apply ourselves to them as if they were great things. When we were little children, with what eagerness did we put together little bits of tile, wood, and mud, to make houses and small buildings! And if someone destroyed them, we were very grieved and tearful at it; but now we know well that it all mattered very little. One day it will be the same with us in Heaven, when we will see that our concerns in this world were truly only child's play.

I do not want to take away the care that we must have regarding these little trifles, because God has entrusted them to us in this world for exercise; but I would indeed like to take away the passion and anxiety of this care. Let us do our child's play, because we are children; but also, let us not trouble ourselves to death in playing it. And if someone destroys our little house and little designs, let us not torment ourselves greatly at this; because also, when this night comes in which it will be necessary to take shelter--I mean to say, death--all these little houses will be of no use to us; we will have to take our shelter in the house of the Father. Faithfully attend to your obligations, but know that you have no greater obligation than that of your salvation and of the saving progress of your soul on the way to true devotion."

Francis De Sales' Letter "To A Woman Beset By Many Tasks"

My dear daughter,

I remember you telling me how much the multiplicity of your affairs weighs on you; and I said to you that it is a good opportunity for acquiring the true and solid virtues. The multiplicity of affairs is a continual martyrdom, for just as flies cause more pain and irritation to those who travel in summer than the travelling itself does, just so the diversity and the multitude of affairs causes more pain than the weight of these affairs itself.

Lord, it's so true! It's not the individual weights of the tasks or even the cumulative effect--it's being pulled thirty-three different directions before lunchtime that kills me. "The multiplicity of affairs is a continual martyrdom"--indeed.

You need patience, and I hope that God will give it to you (if you ask it of Him carefully) and that you will try to practice it faithfully, preparing yourself for it every morning by a special application of some point in your meditation, and resolving to restore yourself to patience throughout the day as many times as you sense yourself becoming distracted.

That could be pretty often!

Lord, in what careful way can I apply myself, with Your help, to patience as a starting point each morning? And how "restore myself to patience throughout the day"? I know this is exactly what I need to do.

Do not lose any occasion, however small it may be, for exercising gentleness of heart toward everyone. Do not think that you will be able to succeed in your affairs by your own efforts, but only by the assistance of God; and on setting out, consign yourself to His care, believing that He will do that which will be best for you, provided that, on your part, you employ a gentle diligence. I say "gentle diligence," because violent diligence spoils the heart and the affairs, and is not diligence, but haste and trouble.

Ouch. I confess, Lord, to gutting it out with a violent diligence that does neither me or my family any good.

May I set out each morning by consigning the day and myself to Your care, employing a gentle diligence as I entrust You with my multiple affairs.

...Have patience with everyone, but chiefly with yourself; I mean to say, do not trouble yourself about your imperfections, and always have the courage to lift yourself out of them. I am well content that you begin again every day; there is no better way to perfect the spiritual life than always to begin again and never to think you have done enough.

Grace and perserverance--so simple, yet so difficult. Lord, give me patience with myself and my imperfections, as You do. Help me begin again every day--as You do!

"Considering Fields"

That's my metaphor for garage saling ("sailing"?). It comes from the passage we all know, about that Proverbs 31 woman who gets up early and gets more done in a day than I do in a month. (She has servants, I notice!) But we have this in common: "She considers a field...and she buys it!"

Now, I'm not one who lets myself go very often in the spending department. But garage sales are the one place where I let the silver flow through my fingers freely.

I love the ones in subdivisions where 20-plus families participate and you spend most of your time at garage sales instead of driving around. Today I spent $7 and got 4 pairs of like-new adorable little girls' shoes for Chicklet 3--so she's set for the summer and fall, at least. For another $7, I got 4 shirts, a pink track jacket that matches the one her older sister is wearing here, a darling brand-new dress for spring/summer/fall, and another fancy dress that will work for Christmas AND Easter. It won't fit her for about 2 years--but it's un-trendy, gorgeous and was only $1!

Bitty Bantam (14m) is the one I was really hoping to find things for. I didn't save much from my older boys after we found out #5 was a girl--stuff gets dated and worn after it's gone through a few boys. And it's so cheap and easy to replace with cuter things at garage sales! I was delighted to find 4 like-new shirt/shorts outfits--for $1 each; and I got another 15 items--all like new!--for a whopping total of $7.50.

YESsssssssssss.

I also forked out a whole dollar for a nice old hardbound copy of the play Cyrano de Bergerac, which I enjoyed writing a paper on in high school. I didn't even think to look at the date till I got home: 1898! (By the way, this movie version was great, and our kids loved it.) I also got 4 beautiful hardbound art books for .50 each, plus a few paperback titles and a picture book about pirates, now long out of print, that I had enjoyed as a kid--all for .10 and .25 each.


Finally, with a little deception--pretending I really didn't want it badly enough to pay $5 for it, but for $3, I would take it off her hands--I got Chicklet 3 a new tricycle to replace the one we had to throw out last summer. We back over one about every other year, so $3 is as high as I go for trikes.

The Proverbs 31 woman returneth;
she unloadeth her car full of treasures.
Her daughters exclaim over their raiment;
her sons rise up and ask, "Any Legos?"

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?