It's a dangerous business, Christine, going in your door.

I work with a group of homeschool moms to create quality history-focused experiences for our kids. Choosing and preparing the literature portion of the day is my job. I laid out twenty authors, and we are nearing the end. Second-to-last is The Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila. I have already enjoyed her autobiography and a good modern biography, so I knew this was going to be a soul-stirring business.

I wasn't prepared for the evangelistic tone of Teresa's writing. "The door is right before you go through it." She conveys the urgent certainty that there are no other adventures. She proclaims that you will never be the same, and if you are it is a disgrace to your soul.

If you need a book to get you off your spiritual backside and back to your search for the Beloved, this is your book. Go in the door to your soul and keep trekking until you reach the Beloved at your core. This book is a classic in several genres. Give it a look.

Sorrow like a Catholic

"Repent and believe in the Gospel." The phrase will be repeated over and over today. I always wanted guidance about fasting, and this time of year the church speaks clearly. Just in case you've wondered, here are the Catholic regulations for Lent.

1) Abstinence on all the Fridays of Lent, and on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.

• No meat may be eaten on days of abstinence. 
• Catholics 14 years and older are bound to abstain from meat. Invalids, pregnant and nursing mothers are exempt. 

2) Fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.

• Fasting means having only one full meal to maintain one's strength. Two smaller, meatless and penitential meals are permitted according to one's needs, but they should not together equal the one full meal. Eating solid foods between meals is not permitted. 
• Catholics from age 18 through age 59 are bound to fast. Again, invalids, pregnant and nursing mothers are exempt.

Please, Let Me Win!

While shopping at Barnes & Noble, I wandered into the cafe for some tea and found a sign up sheet for a company sponsored bake-off. Specifically, cookie recipes were required. I love both baking and the B&N Cafe, and therefore felt uniquely qualified to develop a winning cookie. Batch after batch of test recipes filled the house with homely odors and happy children as by-product. I entered the recipe two hours before the final deadline, and all I can do is wait. Today is the last day of judging, and I keep checking my email in case they announce early.

There is a little voice in the back of my mind thinking, "Please let me win. Please let me win. Please let me win." It keeps drawing my attention away from the contest in front of me--homeschooling, raising kids in general, writing curriculum and a novel to the quick high of public acclaim. I've learned a lot as I've waited for news that may end up being an eloquent silence in my email. 1. I'm optimistic. I feel hopeful about winning. 2. When I focus on something, I focus. Refining my recipe is on-going even though the contest is closed to further submissions. 3. It only takes the tiniest bit of hope to get my imagination going. I keep imagining and reimagining  presenting my cookies, and telling people to buy them at the cafe. I imagine myself as a grandmother passing on this precious recipe to my grands.

This experience has reminded me that there is a contest we've already won. We are loved. All the work we do, that is so valuable and at times rewarding cannot compete with the joy of this treasure in hand. 

We should be... 1. Optimistic, everywhere are tokens of God's love for us. When the final judging takes place we will rest in his love. 2. Focused, on Christ and his love for us, and ever closer reflection of his image in our lives. 3. Inspired, we should see the light of Christ filling our lives and changing our world, for the better.

Opening Up

I do not care to display weakness. Once in my adolescent years I fell and hit my head so hard it felt like my brain was sloshing about in my skull. I immediately stood up and protested that I felt fine even though I could not see. When my vision finally cleared I realized I must have been oddly staring off into empty space, so I walked in that direction talking about getting assistance as I tried to stay steady on my feet.

I do not know what makes me sadder, that I was so determined to remain independent, or that everyone respected my independence. It must be better to be more fully woven into one's community, but I still don't know. I have gathered more skills and information as I have walked each step of life, and if nothing else I'll be a thread in the rug in Heaven.

New Years with all its fresh dates is coming and the opportunities for growing and learning seem in full supply. Personally, I'm signed up at the Rec Center to weave a little more recreation in my life. Even my hobbies are work, and my body has become a waste. Here's hoping I can get to know my community a little better as well. 

Where are you struggling with connection? Is it an important relationship? An over abundance of relationships? Or is it a lack of relationship? Don't forget to scribble down a resolution about this important area. I do learn, and I can say the effort is worth it.

My Christmas Hat

I look forward to Christmas baking all year long. This year I decided that reaching out to our new neighbors would be my priority. I set the date for baking and distribution early in the season to keep stress low, and then I chose three different offerings--Glazed Ginger Bundt Cake, Wreath Bread, and Cinnamon Rolls. I have made all of them several times and enjoyed eating them. Baking went remarkably smoothly. Not surprisingly, I ran out of butter, but that was easily remedied. Delivery took three rounds, but we eventually got to everyone.

I am not outgoing, so baking something truly special is my way of saying hello without getting stressed. Getting to know my neighbors is something I feel strongly about. This commitment challenges me, because my preference is to "hunker in my bunker." Eventually I might work my way up to a party, but for now I'm happy to imagine the foil coming off and the smiles going on. 

Christ's call to love one another is a real stretcher. He doesn't put limits or guidelines on who to love. When you sit down and really think about it, he calls us to love the torturer as well as the tortured. He calls us to love our bully as well as our savior. He calls us to start right where we are in our lives and neighborhoods and to love everyone indiscriminately. Christmas always presents me with real challenges as I seek to see people the way Jesus does. I'm not very good at it, and sometimes I'm too bitter to listen to the Spirit's helpful hints. It's worth pursuing. Some day we will understand it all.

Pick up the challenge to love this Christmas, even if it's only homemade baked goods. 

You Never Know

We have a large crèche, that is our pride and joy in decorating each year. In the past we put the set up on a large set of bookcases, but our new home didn't have that kind of space. It does have room for half on top of the coat closet in the foyer, and the rest fit on a table in the same space. This is the first year we can see Baby Jesus, so I put him aside to wait for Christmas Day. The empty manger is a powerful reminder of the melancholy time of waiting in the Old Testament. Every time I walk by it, I give thanks for the knowledge that he is with us.

Last year, Jimmy's teacher made Baby Jesus dolls out of socks for each of her students. Jimmy loved on that doll all Christmas long, and it was so sweet to see this nurturing side of my little boy. Even after the holidays were over, Baby Jesus remains important. He is snuggled into blankets, taken on adventures, and helping Jimmy understand why we need to sit still during church. This engagement is a happy sign of my son's growing faith.

A few days after putting out our crèche I was tickled to find the void in our manger filled with Sock Baby Jesus. I don't know if Jimmy's catechist imagined the impact one sock, two rubber bands, stuffing, and a Sharpie marker face would have on him, but her passion for sharing Jesus has changed my little boy. You never know what will have the most impact. A holy zygote has transformed the world.

For Normal

We had the same pediatrician for seventeen years.  Same for our dentist and obstetrician. I like continuity. I like a strong sense of normal. We moved three hours away from our previous home base. Time for a dental appointment? Where to go? Kids need their shots? Turns out to be way more complicated than choosing someone from their online reviews, but it does get done. Our teeth are clean. Half the kids are vaccinated. We are getting to a new normal, and I'm so thankful for the progress.

I'm also thankful for the turmoil. It's offered me the opportunity to do something different. I can change care providers without turning our life upside down if I need too. I'm thankful for the way life on this side of the state has forced me to see the people in my life with fresh eyes and helped me to relate to them in more authentic ways. I needed the change even if I didn't want it.

"There is a time for everything,     and a season for every activity under the heavens:      a time to be born and a time to die,     a time to plant and a time to uproot,      a time to kill and a time to heal,     a time to tear down and a time to build,     a time to weep and a time to laugh,     a time to mourn and a time to dance,     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,     a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,      a time to search and a time to give up,     a time to keep and a time to throw away,      a time to tear and a time to mend,     a time to be silent and a time to speak,     a time to love and a time to hate,     a time for war and a time for peace.  What do workers gain from their toil?  I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race.  He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.  I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.  That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.  I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him. Whatever is has already been,     and what will be has been before;     and God will call the past to account." Ecclesiastes 3:1-15 Thanks be to God for the seasons in life.

Traveling

As part of my duties as a homeschooling mother, I am writing a curriculum teaching history through reading literature. No, that won't replace a solid history class, but it will immeasurably enrich it. As a hybrid history/literature some of my choices aren't obvious. The latest example is The Travels of Ibn Jubayr. I chose it to round out our understanding of the cultures of the Middle Ages. Ibn Jubayr is a Muslim, and his travels are to Mecca to perform Hajj. I was excited to learn about medieval modes of travel, ancient Muslim culture, and interactions between Christians and Muslims of that time. What I didn't expect was to be so impressed with Ibn Jubayr himself. His soft voice, so reverent and deferent to God, his praise for those who did good, his thoughtful appraisal of those who did bad, these all won my heart as well as my ears.

Some quotes.

"This world destroys all those who love it most, and it's sons it devours. The reward of God is the best treasure, and obedience to him is the most noble booty. There is no God but He."

"May God protect us from the abuse of His decrees."

"Enlightened men left weeping for religion, despairing of the happiness of the world, and assured of the portents of the Day of Judgement. To God belongs the future and the past."

"Yet on the whole, in comparison with the men, they are wretched and cheated. They see the venerated House and may not enter it, they gaze upon the blessed Stone but cannot touch it, and their lot s wholly one of staring and feeling the sadness that moves and holds them. They have nothing but tawaf at a distance."

At times I forget that just because someone's faith is different than mine doesn't mean they are hypocrites, and that faithful adherence to one's religion doesn't automatically make someone a bad person. Sometimes it makes them exemplary.

Permitted

I've just spent a really long time trying to say things that aren't aloud. I'm sure you have a closet full too. If you can't think of any right now, give it a month.

I've been sending the repair bills to the wrong place. I've forgotten that just because someone breaks something doesn't mean they know anything about fixing it. Breakers are often the most in need of fixing, even if they'd rather climb in their grave early than accept help.

I'm learning to stand where I've been put and accept the Lord's repairs as they come. My struggle might not be aloud, but His Grace is always heard.

Recess

I am learning the side-stoke! That is a fancy bit of swimming for the uninitiated. It involves curling your legs up to your abdomen then kicking out with your legs in opposite directions then bringing them together all stretched out while you glide forward. This is done while you lie on your side in the water. Your arms gather into each other then separate out for the glide. It's so hard, and I love it.

I'd forgotten the pleasure of a doable challenge, of making your body try something new.  Pushing, turning, flipping over, the goal is so close, but no luck yet. I like it that way. It's something to work on that I know I'll master, so little of life is like that.

Right now I'm facing very difficult challenges, and I'm very invested in their outcome. I have no idea what kind of outcomes there will be, and most of them are completely out of my control. Having permission to completely give myself to a task I can conquer helps me discover inner resources I have forgotten.  Things long hidden are returned to me. 

Learning the side stroke might not do the trick for you, but there is something you used to do, or wish you knew how to do, that could provide respite from the longer challenges of life--a little recess never hurt anyone.

if you judge people, you have no time to love them

There are times when I get very angry when I think about all the people whose friendship I am missing, because I dangled mine like a prize to be won if they would only come to Jesus. It's what I was taught to do, but it was wrong. However, when I turn my mind to rant, I remember that no matter how deeply people have disappointed you, they need love without judgement too.

Thank you, Mother Teresa.

Lost Lamb

The Good Shepherd was my first understanding of my relationship with God. The naughty grey lamb was me and Jesus loved me and rescued me all the time. My copy of Jon and the Little Lost Lamb had a white lamb on the first interior page, so I took a pencil and colored it in. I suppose it was on purpose to show the new, clean life of the lamb, but to my mind I was grey. 

My grandmother could be dramatic, particularly when telling a Bible story that might spare us some sin. One afternoon, she told me the story of the lost lamb embellished with everything she'd learned about shepherding after decades of teaching Sunday School. She was an extraordinary storyteller and she had me in the palm of her hand when she got to the part where the shepherd broke the lamb's legs, reset them and spent the next few months carrying the lamb on his shoulders while they healed. I still prefer to access that memory with only one eye open.

If that is what God has to do, then that is what God has to do, but wow, how does one avoid it? I don't do perfect--these days not even pretentious perfect. Every day of my life reminds me I'm falling short. I want to do better. I'm trying to do better, but from my perspective at least, I'm not doing better.

Good thing he is faithful even when I am faithless. 

Angst

I am suffering from a lack of direction today. What is important? Why am I doing this? There's a distinct lack of cosmic clarity and everything is falling flat. It is one thing to push through a difficult circumstance or project with the emotional equivalents of fan mail and theme music in your soul. It is quite another when you aren't very sure what you do matters anymore or if it does that you care.

These can be bad days. The worst are the days without angst-- days of emptiness.

Lucky for me my response to that is anger. The kind of anger children draw on compels me to ask why was I created if this is all it means. There are all those boozy, opiate answers. There are the mean answers your mother tasered you with when you were bad. But the answer to all the ways we ask, "Do you see me?" has already been given...

"Yes."

One Little Thing

We moved something like a month ago, and everything is everywhere. I am beginning to see counter space, but every room has me singing that classic Sesame Street song, "One of These Is Not Like The Others." Even things that I've previously sorted have to be removed to someplace else when other storage options are discovered or created. It makes for seemingly limitless reasons not to work on my regular work.
At first the excuse that if I just plowed in now, I'd make such a difference it would be worth delaying things for. Now that it's about one drawer or one bin, I think to myself, "It's just one more bin. It won't take long." And it doesn't. And neither does the next one. Or the next one. Or the next one.
Having an orderly house matters, and this house delightfully repays all attempts at bringing order, but my daily work of homeschooling, writing, studying and above all prayer is important and should be non-negotiable. It is time for me to recognize and enforce that one of these chores is not as important as the others.

Torn

At the moment I am in awkward place in my parenting. I believe strongly in good medical care. This is because we have been spoiled with great medical care, and I can't imagine life without it. Or, I couldn't. One of my top priorities was to get my kids settled with a doctor. It isn't easy to find doctors who are willing to work with a family as large as ours, so I was very grateful to find a clinic that had room for most of us. When I arrived I was handed a page covered front to back with questions that ranged from nosey to in my opinion, rather improper for my teens. Furthermore, the doctor, whom i had never met, would be discussing these questions with my kids. I was told there would be no ducking it, so I left, and skipping future doctor visits was on the table.

It is at least partly legal, and many doctors are doing it to give children in abusive homes a place to speak up. I'm offended by the whole thing. I was at the clinic because I take good care of my kids, and I was being treated like a suspect. My children would be exposed to information they don't need, because they are loved and sheltered. Their education about these matters can wait for an appropriate time.

The only thing that keeps me from going nuclear, is the thought of a kid who isn't so lucky. A kid who needs that stray physical to ask for help. The procedure is in definite need of fine tuning, but if it saves kids like the ones Jeanne cares for, then I will find a way to make it work. I'm looking for a doctor of like mind, and I think my kids can endure talking about issues other kids are living.

This is a major change for me. When I gave myself permission not to care about the least of these, I took a good look in the mirror. I'm still going to be the mom. I'm still going to get in there every way I can, but I'm not going to shut the door on a child who might need it. 

Sometimes you have to accept suffering.

A Little Cooperation

This is my lovely basement classroom half destroyed, halfway through school. It's still a bit ragged around the edges because of moving, but I am finding the compartmentalization it offers is good for the kids. I've worked hard on this basement and on the plans for school. I've put my heart into it trying to really engage my kids and prepare them for life. I love it. 

So, why is this basement so quiet this time of day? I happen to be all out of ideas for dealing with one of my children. We went through my entire repertoire of disciplinary techniques before lunch.  The day I have planned is fun, stickers, games, art projects, independent projects, videos, fart markers, but this one would rather be banned then behave reasonably. I literally don't know what to do next. Fear not, I always come up with something, but I'm taking a breather.

It's at moments like these that I wonder where God is with me right now. I know he could never be out of ideas or patience, but the Bible makes it clear he is not afraid of applying some tough love. Am I entering into the day he has planned for me, or am I serving myself? Am I rejecting skills and truths I will need for the future? Am I accepting painful practice? I don't know, but I know God is the best parent. I know it is always worth cooperating.

freak out

My kids soak up my brain. For years, I've packed up and gone to Barnes and Noble to write, because the busy cafe was less distracting than being at home. If they have a hangnail I want to know about it. We battle away like all parents and children, and I love every minute.

Recently, we moved and bought a house with a pool. I think I was the most excited about it, but the kids have been swimming every day. I've been watching from the side, measuring each swimmer's ability and good sense. They developed a rule of the pool that you have to go down the slide. Even Jimmy, our youngest took the plunge. When I finally felt secure enough to swim myself there was no question about going down the slide, what good is a pool rule if you can opt out of it? I eased into the cold water, and as soon as I was completely in the heckling started.

I am a planner. I need to think things through. I didn't plan beyond going down the slide. I sat there trying to plan and the heckling became shouting so off I went. I have three different skills I rely on in water, but my lack of a plan for employing one meant complete panic. The only thing that saved me was a calming thought that there would be be help. Sure enough, Rose snagged me and pulled me over to the side. All those years of taking her to swim class paid off.

As I calmed down I realized that I hadn't really been swimming since my college days. I've been by the pool and at the beach, but stroking my way through water, not so much. I'm always keeping them safe, though I now think it's time for a refresher class. If ever there's another need to panic, I want a much better plan.

I'm thinking I've been doing the same thing spiritually. Every life has its ups and downs, and different times require  different skill sets. There are disciplines I used to participate in every day that I'm taking for granted instead of practicing. I think it's time to reach and grow and seek the Spirit for a refresher class.

Snug as a Bug

I am snuggled under the garage roof in my own little space, listening to rain fall. It is a gentle, tender rain without thunder or lightning. I have been packing and unpacking for what feels like a month, and if I'm not careful I'll trade in this post for a nap.

It isn't just the rain and the weariness, I've been longing for a place like this all my life, and the rest that has come with it is both overdue and overpowering. I'm pushing myself to stay focused on the other parts of the house, but every little thing adds up. Last night I hung up a red birdhouse on the window above my desk. I hunted up my Pieta statuette and put it in a place of honor. This morning I rearranged the furniture and and cut the shrink wrap off. All of these actions rewarded me with the energy to do a little more. 

The more was to take time and pray. Pray without the pressure of hurrying done before kids woke up and the day needed me. For just that necessary ease that space can give, I was able to get back to a prayer routine I was sorely missing. It's important to persist in our spiritual disciplines in order to reap the rewards of knowing God better, but I am beginning to understand when this or that becomes difficult it may be that God is opening the door for greater growth through change.

I didn't want to move here, but I'm discovering many good things I couldn't have had without moving, including this room of my own.

Good has been done here

We are packing up my things for the big move. I am living in, on, under, around, above, but, by, and all the rest of the prepositions, boxes. I failed to get my color coding scheme working, and we have way more books than I really understood we have. I mean, 2,034 on the Library App, is impressive, but having enough book boxes to make several castles is inconceivable.

Some things we didn't want packed, in particular our canned goods, but I forgot to specify that. I found the canned goods shelf empty, and didn't even look for the box because I thought it was in the boxnado. Several hours later, there it was, all by it's lonesome, I was going to donate the canned good after all. 

Except St. Mary's was locked. I don't have the energy to do things twice. Due to the Coast Guard Festival, traffic was horrendous and I opted to give up on donating at St. Pat's. We pulled into an antiques store and I suddenly remembered Peter's antique high chair. It's been classing up the attic for eight years or so, and Goodwill doesn't take antique baby anything. I walked into the store and a gentleman offered me 15 dollars sight unseen. I turned to leave, but the opportunity to get two things done at once was too close not to try. I got him to agree to take my canned goods to St. Mary's on the following day. Win, win.

I've been impressed with how many things are falling into slots bit by bit--how two different errands can have one ending. I don't know if I'm just too old to fight God and worry, or if I'm finally getting smarter about listening and trusting. All I know is that my heart flubs along steady while problem after problem is put straight. It's a great time to practice trust.

Because I love them

Put me in a room with a child and fifteen minutes later I will love them.  Some kids it doesn't take fifteen seconds.  When I find adults difficult to take I imagine them at five years of age and that almost always helps.  I love the mysteries in each person, and I'm hooked on watching them unfold.

I grew up in a very structured world that had very clear ideas about what kind of people God made and how everyone should express the character God had given them.  The older I get and the more people I watch blooming and growing, the more I realize we really are too limited to know what God would do and how he would do it.  I'm  trying to give up categorizing and controlling in favor of observing and appreciating other people.  

I know how much I love it when someone does that for me.