Corduroy

Evee and I have been reading the book Corduroy a lot the last couple of weeks.  We've had some great conversations about it.

If you've never read it, the quick story is...
Corduroy, a toy bear at a department store, waits for someone to take him home.  After hearing a conversation between a mom and daughter he realizes that he is missing a button.  He searches all night for his missing button to no avail.

The same little girl comes back the next day, after counting her own money, to buy "the bear she always wanted".   

My favorite part, and the one I keep thinking back to, is after the little girl Lisa brings Corduroy back to her house.  She brings him straight to her room.  She sews a button on his overalls and says,

"I like you the way you are," she said, "but you'll be more comfortable with your shoulder strap fastened."

 "I like you the way you are," she said.

So much that I love about this simple line...

I love that she saw his button was missing, but he was still the "bear she always wanted".

She knew the button was gone and still went home and counted her money.

She didn't ask the saleslady for a discount when she bought him...she took him just the way he was.

She didn't act like the button was still on.  She knew it was gone and liked him all the while.

She didn't need the button on, but knew that he would be more comfortable with one sewn on.

It seems that Corduroy already felt unwanted (the 2nd page said "but no one ever seemed to want a small bear in green overalls") and then realized he was missing a button.  Possibly he thought that a button was needed to be loved, but in the end it wasn't true.

Because of her words the book says that Corduroy then knew he had a friend.

I think that this is love in it's purest form...  Before being "fixed" or "healthy" or "whole" (or even if that never happens), to be liked "just the way you are".

laughter

Tonight Iris was bouncing away in her little seat at the edge of the kitchen while I put stuff away.

Clint came up behind me and kissed my cheek.  It made a sound.

Iris laughed.

Of course, he kissed me again.
Again, a little laugh.
This went on a number of times.

Iris is just learning to laugh.  Tonight is the most I've heard it.

Clint looked at her, telling her that she was just happy to be around people.
(As you are when learning to laugh.)

That and the noise were probably what brought the new laughter.  I'd like to think that somehow, someway, maybe she might also enjoy the sight of her dad kissing her mom.  I know this is a lofty thought for a 4 month old, but still...

What my kids see in our home is important...I believe this to my core.  The interactions between Clint and I and us and them are vital to who they become, who they are and who we are.

I'm thankful for this reminder tonight.

"I think the world today is turned upside-down.  It is suffering so much because there is so little love in the home and in family life.  We have no time for our children.  We have no time for each other.  There is no time to enjoy each other, and the lack of love causes so much suffering and unhappiness in the world...So the breakdown of peace in the world begins at home."  (Mother Teresa) 

Praying for...
love
peace
fun
sweet interactions
tenderness
gentleness
and lots of grace
...within this home.

stars

There is a time of day that gives life.
Different for everyone, I'm sure.
And different seasons yielding different times.

It is work to find 
and to take
but no work in the actual moments
they are joy.

The hardness of the day seems loose;
easy to shake off.
The good able to seep in;
to heal the soul.

Moments to think, play with words, laugh, complain, be silent.
Sometimes in company, sometimes alone.

Peace.
It comes down like rain.
Sometimes to heal, sometimes to clean, sometimes to revive, sometimes to restore. 
Often finding beauty in all of the day
...even the hard.

Tonight I see the stars before I even walk outside
the air is crisp on my cheeks
I breath in deep.

thankfulness

Today is beautiful.  This moment is quiet. 

My house is a mess, but I won't get to cleaning it anytime soon.
(why start when I can't finish?) 
I won't get to organize the closets like I've been wanting to do for weeks. 

In this week of breathing thankfulness in and out
I'm going to focus on things of importance
and not on the things that are not getting done. 

Because there is so much I am thankful for.
There are so many things (people) of incredible importance. 
We are blessed indeed.

Peaceful times to you!
You, who are counting your blessings too.

baptism

Working in the children's area each weekend, it takes a bit of effort to get into the church service.

This morning I made it in.
The service had already started.
A person in the pool.
Their story being shared.

I think of the hardship I haven't experienced.  The loss and abuse is more than I'll know.

And yet?  She tells about a God that is gracious.  God is there and he is good. 

We celebrate new life. 
We sing about and to our God.

There is a young guy in front of me...maybe 16 or 17.
He is wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.  His hands are tucked in the pocket.
I watch him worship.  It looks real.  It looks like love, like grace.

A boy gets up, goes out the back, asks to be baptized too. 
He's in the pool. 
He says he knows freedom..."life to the fullest". 
He goes under and comes up again.

There are others.
Those who have experienced life.  grace.  freedom.  love.  peace.

The old becoming new...salvation in the truest sense.
It's a wonder. 
Hard to comprehend. 
Impossible without faith. 

But
to see it,
to experience it...
I've not known anything more real. 

knowing

Sometimes I think if only I knew people, really knew them, their hurts and pains and the wrongs that had been done to them, I'd be more gracious.

But, then, I'd also know all the wrongs done by them and be prone to judge.

It's amazing to me that God knows all the pain I've felt and that which I've caused and loves me in it.

Then I think, if only I just knew that love, really knew it and not just for a moment, I could truly love another...no matter what I know or don't know about them.

throwing up

3 years old is hard, I'm not going to lie.  It's tough and lately most days I am tired. 

Tonight I found myself thinking about it from her perspective.  3 years old is tough.  Poor girl. 

Even though I hear "I am so upset with you" more than I'd like, I also hear "Can you hold you me?" much more frequently these days.  I feel the depth of love she needs as she figures out life. I feel the weight of responsibility to teach...to teach so much, but to show even more.  I want to show her love and grace more than anything.

Last night she came in our room at 1:30am.  She said she was sick and thought she'd throw up.  She's been sick a couple of times in this, her third year of life, so I trust her judgment.

I walked to her room with her.  Put a wastebasket right by her bed and eventually in her bed.

I was tired.  So tired.  I thought about the work that I needed to get done the next day.  I thought about how I would have to get up with Iris earlier than I'd like.  I thought about what a tough day it had already been and how I didn't want to be up just 2 hours after I'd fallen asleep for the night. 

And yet.  She felt sick.  As she laid in bed, with me perched beside her, she said that it "wasn't coming" and that we had to "wait for it". 

She held my hand and asked if I'd wait with her, for her throw up to come. 

I rubbed her back and held her hair "just in case".  I thought of a babysitter I had once.  I'd gotten sick while at her house.  I found out later that she'd missed hanging out with her friends because I was sick and she had to stay back with me.  It's nice to have someone beside you. 

It took an hour, but it came.  She felt better.  She feel asleep and I slept on the bed next to her's.  As tired as I was last night I had been happy to be sitting there with her, holding her hand. 

This morning is when she said that she was so upset with me.  I probably made her dress warm or something.  I thought of all the grief that Clint and I must have caused our moms without even knowing it and how they loved us anyway.   

Sorry mom. 

Thanks for holding my hair back when I was too little to remember.

words

At the beginning of last week there were too many words.

This week, may I be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to become angry.

Last week I let my emotions get the best of me. 

This week may I choose to live within emotional boundaries.

Oh, lessons to be learned over and over again...

my birthday

I realize that Evee is very excited about my birthday
I want to make sure she feels included
so we bake a cake the evening before
it's chocolate ganache and I think of Jayne
Evee can hold a hand held mixer by herself and I'm amazed
but we only use that to make real whipped cream
we use my mom's mixer and her pans for the cake
3 generations, using that mixer
I blow out a candle while Clint sings and Evee smiles shyly, even though its just us
friends come and eat cake with us
it's good cake...if I can say so

I sleep in
wake up (fully) and I'm holding Iris' hand
Clint comes in with cards and a kiss
Evee shows me the card she made
it mostly tells me what she did that morning while I slept
she asks if today is my birthday
yeah
she tells Iris that today is my birthday, in the high pitched voice she always talks to Iris in
we head downtown
I eat breakfast with Evee and Iris and am amazed that these 2 are mine
my birthday is full of coffee and crafting/reading in the kids' section of the library

Clint and I go out for dinner
we've looked forward to it all week
it's been awhile since we'd had a 'real' date
we have free childcare and almost a free dinner thanks to a sweet friend
we drink wine and dream together
he makes me laugh and I think, I'm so lucky

He organized a brunch with friends
I love breakfast out
I love these friends
and there are so many people, so many places that I miss
He wrote them and reminded them it was my birthday so they wouldn't forget
so I got texts and emails and phone calls throughout the day
and I am so thankful

it was a beautiful day.

the everyday

Oh how sad to miss the beauty of the everyday.  We end up missing life.

The balance is planning and thinking ahead for the future while staying present in the now.  While we look ahead to where we will be, what we will do, and how it all comes about today I will be.  Be now which creates who I am then. 

And not getting caught in the mundane or frustrating points - which I so easily do.  If I'm not going to do anything to change them or seemingly can't do anything to change them, I might as well see the beauty that might lie in those situations. 

So I will see.  I will choose and strive to see.

I am noticing the little...

leaves falling
words shared
reading outside
crisp air
moments alone
night walks
night walks with a friend
cheese and crackers
good wine that's cheap
free babysitting
chocolate cake
learning and growing, even when it's ugly

the beginning

Last week we got home from traveling to and within New Zealand.  I talked a bit about the travel itself, but not the actual trip.

We are moving there.

I am starting to process this.

There is a lot that leads up to the decision to move your family across the world.  Clint has done this once on his own (though he says it feels very different now moving a family) and my parents did this while we were growing up, but only for a short time (9 months).

After months of praying, talking, emails, Google searches, here we are.  Now it's us and the time is indefinite.  And I continue to process what this means.

While visiting a place I'd never been I tried to take it all in.  Jet-lagged and soberly I thought about what this would look like for our family.

I walked streets I'd never walked before but will walk many times more.
I thought about neighborhoods and buildings that we might want to live in.
I wondered who my friends would be and if it would be hard to find them.
I drank at coffee shops and pictured my mom and I sitting there chatting when she visits.

Sometimes I wonder why we would move to a place we've never been, to people we are just getting to know, miles and miles from family and friends, to create something we've only imagined.

And yet...
Peace.
There is peace.  Little by little we sense it.  It is nothing big, emotional, or any creation of our own.  But we trust it.  We trust that the One who has called us is faithful.

I am only starting to process, think, imagine.  But this is not new to Him.

I cannot fathom what the next year will look like as we prepare, dream, pursue.  And I cannot begin to think of all the details that need to be walked through.  It is overwhelming and exciting, all at once.

In awe and with anticipation,
Here we go...

people

Tonight I saw someone who I haven't seen in a couple of years.

It took me a second to place her because I only knew her for a short while.  When Clint first started grad school I served at a restaurant a few nights a week.  She was another server at the restaurant.

Tonight when I saw her, and then finally placed her as we chatted, I remembered that there had been a bit of drama around her leaving the restaurant.  It's all a bit foggy in my mind and while working there I tried to steer clear of the many dramatic incidences that occurred. 

But I found myself thinking tonight, "Was I nice to her?...I hope I was kind." 

Obviously we are constantly changing and growing as people, but I do hope that my responses are kind and loving.  I hate that I had to ask myself. 

i blog

This space has gone a variety of directions since I started it.  I think the last 3 years, in particular, have been years of realizing who I am and resting in that.

Of course, it is a journey.  My desire is to know peace, live simplicity and learn to love.  I am so far from this most moments.

I've realized that in all reality I blog to myself.  There is much I don't know, much to be reminded of, much to be held accountable for.  And that is what this space has come to be.

A place to remember the beauty of moments.  A place to rest in the midst of striving.  A place to remember the One who created me and be reminded of my existence.  A place to dwell on that which brings peace.  A place to learn how to love.

I've been processing this over the last couple of weeks...that's the only reason I write it here now.  Not that anyone needs an "update" since this blog is constantly evolving, but more for my own peace of mind.  In my own need to know why I write and my desire to be authentic. 

songs

I have songs that run through my head.  Usually if a song last for more than a week or 2 it means something.  If it lasts that long I start to really listen to the words.  I begin to take them in.

On the long flight there was a moment where Evee was breaking down.  Understandably the child was overtired and at her wits end.  She was trying to break free as I had my arms wrapped around her body telling her that she needed to get some sleep.  She was crying loudly that she wasn't tired and wanted to stay up for "just a bit longer".  I was trying hard to focus on my child and not the fact that we were probably keeping people up and I looked like a horrible parent. 

As I held her to me she started to quiet down.  I eventually laid her down on the seats.  I began to sing to her.  The same songs I always sing to her.  About my love for her.  I sang the song my dad always sang to me.  She got quiet.  I touched her face and her eyes began to close. 

I sang those songs over and over again.  Her body gave in and sleep came quickly. 

Gentleness.  Love.  It's amazing how it works.

This is how are travels started.  The ended just the same.  At the end of a make-it-through jet lag day, Evee laid in her own bed, crying, tired, with me singing her to sleep.