Highs and Lows

Talk about a whirlwind couple of days. I have been on vacation with my family at the Frio River while Brad has been in and out of the hospital dealing with not 1, but 3 kidney stones that refuse to go away. Despite the stress of worrying about how Brad was doing while I was away (he was in good hands at his parents house), we managed to have a really fun time down in south Texas. I hope we can go back again, perhaps when there is enough water for a floating trip. Here are a couple of pictures from our adventure:

Sophia is so adventurous for a 3 year old. Meanwhile Grant wouldn't let go of me in the water. He clutched on to me for dear life and every 5 minutes would remind me "don't leave me, mommy, don't leave me". He finally warmed up to the water and played by himself, and yes, of course that was during our last swimming outing of the trip.

We went to the Frio Bat Cave where up to 20 million bats fly out every night. It was incredible. And also somewhat eerie, like at any moment, we could become a scene in the movie 'Birds'.

Doesn't Grant look so sweet? Ha. He is a tough one. Iron will. On my reading list this month? 'The Strong Willed Child'. Last summer, he earned the nickname 'piranha' on our family vacation due to his biting problem. This year, he will be remembered for the infamous stand-off wherein for 2 hours he went in and out of time-out for refusing to apologize to his granma for hitting her in the face with a rock...

Thanks mom for a great trip! I'm glad we are getting to make all these memories while the kids are little. Now we are back in Waco, still dealing with health problems. I wish instead we were making smores around the campfire!

Creation: Part A

Pretending to blend in at the Herridge's ranch over Thanksgiving 2008.

Sharing a moment and a snack at the wildlife ranch in September 2008

Loving on Rascal in the summer of 2008.

When I was young, we lived in Canada. It was by all practical purposes the idyllic childhood. Neighbors knew neighbors, enough to swap presents during the holidays so kids couldn't go nosing through the house and ruin the Christmas morning surprise, enough to bless each other's meals with fresh picks from the garden, enough to hose down the entire backyard in winter so all of the kids on the street could have their very own skating rink, enough to genuinely watch out for one another and one another's children.

My love of the outdoors was born in that world I grew up in. I think back to those days and all sorts of images flash through my mind's eye: raking leaves and then playing for hours in the endless, brilliant piles of red and orange and yellow maple leaves, daring to go down to the ravine after school and walk across the fallen log in the rushing creek thus transporting ourselves to the land of terabithia, climbing up to nest in the weeping willow in the park to daydream with one of my best friends, cross-country skiing treks with my family deep in the silent white woods, swimming in the quarry in our town - larger than a young imagination could hold, an unknown depth, cold and dark.

As I have read about Celtic spirituality and their views on creation, I've thought back to my childhood and the many amazing encounters I've had since then in this world that God made. All the places I have traveled, the many different landscapes I've been witness to. And I have thought about Grant, even at his young age, being so in love and curious about every animal he meets and feeling so at home when outside.

I sat down tonight with the intention of summarizing the main tenets of Celtic beliefs about creation. But for some reason, I grew mindful instead. It's all coming together. All of the words I keep reading. "It is not as if creation somehow exists independently from God, the impression we have received too often from a mechanistic world view, and that God only periodically chooses to express himself through it. That would be to say that God is like an artist who has made a violin he only occasionally plays. The rising of the sun each morning is the expression of God, as is the beauty of the moon at night." I can see why the Celts have such a high regard for creation - because it endlessly shouts and whispers and wildly points towards a God who is brilliant, imaginative, attentive, thoughtful, nurturing, fierce, uncontainable, and the list never ends. In all my experiences, and in the stories I read in the Bible, nature always bears testimony to the truth of God.

So, consider this post as a warm-up. I needed it before I could progress. I'll get around to my original intention soon, but in the meantime, I'll end with an evening prayer. Celts believe there is always something to learn from the world around us. See if you can pick up on that belief as expressed in this prayer:

Glory be to you, O God of the night,
for the whiteness of the moon
and the infinite stretches of dark space.
Let me be learning to love the night
as I know and love the day.
Let me be learning to trust its darkness
and to seek its subtle blessings.
Let me be learning the night's way of seeing
that in all things I may trace the mystery of your presence.

Exploring Celtic Spirituality: Part One

It started when Brad got a copy of Celtic Benediction by J. Philip Newell back in January. It's a book of Celtic prayers and provides an outline for morning and evening prayers for one whole week. We liked it so much that we wanted to learn more about the Celts. So, enter a few of Newell's other books, Christ of the Celts, The Book of Creation, Sounds of the Eternal, and Listening for the Heartbeat of God. Now, 7 months later, I have finished all of them (finally!).

I have wanted to write about Celtic spirituality for some time, but even now, 5 books later, I still seem to have a thousand unresolved thoughts swimming around in my head and I'm not sure I want to commit any of them to writing. And yet, writing is the very process that often helps me navigate through such conflicts. What a conundrum...

At the same time I have been living in the land of Celtic spirituality, Brad has been reading several books exploring the future of Christendom and what the new wave of Christianity looks like. Did you know that now over 60% of the world's Christians live in the southern hemisphere - mainly South America, Africa, and Asia? Their expression of faith looks very different that what we claim in the West.


All of the discussions of late in our house have thus collided, reminding me that many of my beliefs, whether I want to/like to admit it or not, are a consequence of the time and place I was born (and by that, I do not mean West Texas in the late 1970's, but rather in the West, in the 20th century). I can't deny that the gospel as I know it, has the stamp of figures such as Augustine, Plato and others.


It is virtually impossible to fully explain Celtic beliefs because they prize mystery, diversity, and freedom. However, I will attempt in the next few posts to outline some of the things that clearly differentiate them.

Western Christianity, thanks mostly in part to Augustine, has advocated the doctrine of original sin which teaches that "what is deepest in us is opposed to God rather than of God." The Celts believe that since we were created in the image of God, goodness is at the core of our being. They do not minimize the catastrophic influence of sin to cripple and wound us, but they do believe that the image of God is at the core of every human. For them, "the shadow of sin comes very close to the beginning of our lives, but deeper still is the Light from which we come." Thus, "The redemption that Christ brings is such a liberation, a freeing of the good that is in us."


As the New Reformed movement is on the horizon in America's evangelical churches and as New Calvinism is gaining popularity, thoughts like the ones expressed above could be viewed as perhaps a tad dangerous. And yet, honestly, they resonate with something in me. As I read the story of God presented in scripture and as I move through this life, I can connect with the idea that God's image is in everything he has created. Is the doctrine of original sin authentic to the story of scripture or a cultural creation? Now as a parent, this subject takes on a different dimension. In innumerable ways, Grant has awakened in me new faith, has pointed me back to God, has reminded me of home. There are certainly many reasons for this, and yet one reason must be that he bears the image of God.



For the Celts, viewing life this way drastically impacts all relationships. Newell recounts a story in which he was exploring these themes and at the end of the discussion, a Mohawk elder stood with tears in his eyes and said, "As I have been listening to these themes, I have been wondering where I would be today. I have been wondering where my people would be today. And I have been wondering where we would be as a Western world today if the mission that came to us from Europe centuries ago had come expecting to find Light within us."


This story has since colored my experiences and interactions. If you spend any time in Celtic prayers, you will see a common request - a desire to move through life with an appreciation for each individual as uniquely made in God's image. How does this influence the way we view 'missions'? How does this influence the boxes and boundaries we draw for people and even more, those who are considered 'enemies'?


I'll leave you with an evening prayer from Celtic Benediction so you can have a taste of what this belief looks like when expressed and I'll try to tackle thoughts on creation in the next post....

Renew me this night in the image of your love

renew me in the likeness of your mercy, O God.

May any refusal to forgive

that lingers with me from the day

any bitterness of soul

that hardens my heart

be softened by your graces of the night.

Renew me in the image of your love, O God,

renew me in the likeness of your mercy.

Busy Hands

Jessica and I have been really busy over the past couple of weeks. You can visit our Paper Wings blog to see a sample of what we've been up to. And, if you are in Waco on July 31-Aug 1, be sure to stop by Bloom and Bee Swanky's open house, the theme being "Made in the 254" featuring local artists.

Oh Youth Games...

Sometimes I love hanging out with the youth because you get to be a teenager again. We had some good, old fashioned, stereotypical youth games the other night. Here are just a few pictures.

We had a game wherein you stand a few feet apart from your partner and try to throw cheetos at their shaving cream covered face. Grant really thought this was fun.

Of course, there was a food relay. I had to eat a bowl full of white hominy. Luckily Mee Maw used to serve hominy all the time, so it wasn't that bad...at least I didn't have the pigs feet or canned oysters.

The best game of all. We were each standing on a bucket on a tarp that was covered in food and got to try to knock each other off. I highly recommend this game if you have any pent up anger you need to get out. We had to stop before I was able to knock Brad off because some food flew into Grant's face and he started crying...poor guy - he probably thinks his parents are the weirdest people.

Defintely read 'The Road'

I can't really remember, but I was probably about 18 when I first picked up Cormac McCarthy's All the Pretty Horses. I couldn't get into it and quickly abandoned my efforts. Brad bought his recent book, The Road, and something about it intrigued me. I am so glad I branched out of my comfort zone to finally read one of his books. I truly believe that future generations will read McCarthy's work as part of high school literature classes just as they now read Faulkner and Hemingway.

The Road is unlike any book I have ever read. Here is the summary from the back of the book: A father and his son walk alone through burned America. Nothing moves in the ravaged landscape save the ash on the wind. It is cold enough to crack stones, and when the snow falls it is gray. The sky is dark. Their destination is the coast, although they don't know what, if anything, awaits them there. They have nothing; just a pistol to defend themselves against the lawless bands that stalk the road, the clothes they are wearing, a cart of scavenged food-—and each other.

I can't summarize it better than the publisher: The Road is haunting in its desperation. It is an unflinching meditation on the worst and the best that we are capable of: ultimate destructiveness, desperate tenacity, and the tenderness that keeps two people alive in the face of total devastation.

Not since The Kite Runner have I read a book that got so inside of me. I finished it weeks ago and I still think of it from time to time, for it explores themes that speak to some of the most basic fears and questions about life. There are no chapter breaks, I think because the father and son never have the luxury of resting in their desperate struggle for survival. The ending was not what I expected, or even wanted, but the more I've thought on it, I think it its further proof of McCarthy's brilliance as a writer, because how you decide to end the book ultimately reveals how you personally answer most of the questions about life that the book poses.

While the story was overwhelmingly painful to read at times, I kept going in part because McCarthy mesmerizes you with his writing. Here is just a sample that gives you a taste of his skillful writing: "He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it."

Even if this genre is way outside of your normal reading sphere, I encourage you to pick up a copy and see what you think. In October The Road is being released as a major motion picture. I can't even begin to think how they are going to translate this story to the big screen, but I already know that there simply won't be a way to compare the novel with the movie. Once you read it, let me know what you think!

Simple

We just returned from a trip home and I was reminded of the unhurried days of my own growing up. It was such a needed and refreshing time away.

Cousin Camp 2009

My sister's kids weren't going to be in preschool over the summer, so in trying to come up with ways to spend the days, she came up with the idea of having a cousin camp. The thought being that we could give the kids a chance to play together at the ranch for a few days and center everything around them. I must say it was a whirlwind. 4 kids under the age of 6 and the 2 of us! We packed a lot in to a few days - special arts and crafts, a trip to the children's museum, the waterpark, the lake, and 'cow rides' at the ranch. Each night after they were all bathed and tucked in, I felt like we had crossed the finish line of a very long race. It was an exhausting time, but completely worth it. Worth it to see Grant laughing with his cousins, worth it to sit on the couch for a few hours each night and get to talk, just me and my sister, worth it to think about how this could very well become a tradition that stays with our children for a lifetime. Kudos to Amy for a brilliant idea!

Grant learned lots of funny things from Jake and Sophia this week and was constantly laughing at them.

Bedtime stories in the tent we set up in the living room. Maybe next summer it will be cool enough to have one outside!

Grant's first real attempt with scissors, with the help of his great aunt, DD, who helped us immensely during cousin camp - the kids adore her and it was neat to see them make special memories with her.

What would camp be without a country cone at the water park?

My favorite picture of all. I wonder who will be the next addition to cousin camp...?

More than Enough

In the quiet of the night
may I know your presence, O God.
At the ending of the day
may my soul be alive to your nearness.
Amidst the tiredness that overcomes my body
and the tensions that linger in my mind,
amidst the uncertainties and fears
that haunt me in the darkness of the night,
let me know your presence, O God,
let my soul be alive to your nearness.

It has been one of those days. For some reasons, Sunday mornings always seem especially difficult - me trying to get Grant fed and all spiffied up for church and myself as well. I could tell that my patience was running low as soon as I even woke up. Grant spilled his juice all over the floor after monkeying around and I reacted too strongly. Get to church and have a difficult conversation that stirs uncertainty in my mind about what to do. Have a luncheon after church wherein Grant throws a table decoration and hits the woman sitting across the table from me in the face. Then he runs off with his fork and digs into the bowl of pink marshmallow fluff in the buffet line. One of those days. Go home and thankfully he sleeps for 3 hours! Except when he wakes up in his crib he decides to pull off his shorts, take off his dirty diaper, and you can fill in the rest...Go to church again and have even more difficult conversations, finally come home - tired, feeling threatened, confused about why things can't be easier, put Grant to bed, light a candle, and guess what the evening prayer is? The words above. So perfectly expressed. Even in days like today, God is near, God is present. And I pray my soul is alive to that truth. That in the midst of toddler tantrums, in the often unpleasant intimacies of physically caring for another human being, in conflict with others, God is near, God is present. God is.

I Pledge Allegiance

Our 4th of July Celebration was relatively low-key this year. We spent the day out at the ranch and after dinner, we decided it was time for a little celebrating. So, we made up a 4th of July parade. We handed out flags to all of the kids, cut up paper to make confetti, tied a bow around the dog, opened up the door to the Yukon and turned up the radio, said the pledge of allegiance and had ourselves a nice little parade down the driveway. The whole thing was utterly ridiculous and yet I haven't laughed that hard in a long time! The kids of course, knew no better and absolutely ate it up. Looks like we might have just made a new tradition.

Dog Days of Summer

Well, I was really hoping against all odds that this summer would not be a repeat of last summer in terms of heat. I got my wish, but I guess I should have been more specific. Because I actually didn't think in a million years it would be possible for it to be hotter than last summer. I've been wanting to post more, but life seems a little mundane at the moment. We spend most of our days inside - reading, playing, and (I'm a little ashamed of this one) watching probably too much of the Backyardigans. Today we ventured outside in celebration of the 99 degree weather and here are a few pictures of Grant playing. He is so funny. His newest saying is "I sure am". As in, "Grant, are you having fun playing outside?" -- "I sure am!"

PS. I have finished a couple more books and will be writing on them very soon if I can collect my thoughts!

Being 15 Again

Well, I am almost back to 'normal' life after being away for a week with our youth group. We made the 14 hour drive to Glorieta, New Mexico to attend M-Fuge camp. Several months ago, I was staunchly opposed to attending camp as a sponsor, but as time wore on, I warmed up to the idea. Turned out it was a lot of fun and I'm so thankful that God changes our minds about things. I went to Glorieta as a senior in high school, and as I walked around the camp and relived old memories, it was incredible to take inventory of all the life changes over the past 12 years. As I watched the youth struggle all week with questions about God's faithfulness, I was able to share all the ways that he has shown me goodness and grace time and time again.


Turns out, some things never change when it comes to teenagers and summer camp. Yes, food challenges are still funny. Yes, our youth minister ate an entire piece of cheesecake covered with worchestshire sauce and salt and pepper. Yes, camp 'relationships' are still uber-dramatic. Yes, camp food still leaves much to be desired - dry meat, crusty bread, and browned lettuce. Yes, pulling pranks is still a staple at camp - I orchestrated leaving our youth minister at a truck stop on the way home :). Yes, teenage boys still have a sense of humor that makes all mothers of young boys a little nervous about the future.


Some things have changed however, since I last went to camp: This camp actually served Starbucks coffee (can you believe that? a caramel macchiato after worship service - so spoiled). Whereas I talked to my parents maybe once during the whole week I was at camp, our youth barely survived with their allotted 10 minutes a day to use their cell phones - I found the whole thing very amusing. Lastly, we actually had hotel style rooms - no bunk beds thrown in a big concrete room and showers with too-small curtains. At this rate, who knows what luxuries camp will have when Grant is able to go!

What Did I Just Say???

Today at HEB I had to laugh after I heard myself tell Grant something. Once you are a parent, you find yourself saying the most ridiculous things, often times with all the patience and seriousness that you can muster up at the time. Here are some of the things that have been coming out of my mouth lately:

1) "When we get the balloon at HEB, it's for playing with, not for repeatedly hitting the cashier."

2) "If you want to eat your banana, that's fine. But it's not okay to mash it on Norman's back."

3) "Your teeth are for eating, not for biting mommy" (this one takes extra, extra patience since he is way too old to still be doing this!)

4) "Please stop licking the carpet, carpet is for walking on" (don't ask - I have no idea why he decided to start doing this at church the other night...)

Grant is talking all the time now and always surprising us with the things he comes up with. Here are some things coming out of his mouth lately:

1) His favorite line "I do it all by myself"

2) He asked Brad, "Mommy is going to work to make money for my piggy bank?"

3) After we tucked him in the other night he yelled, "Hey guys!! Come back and hug me now!"

4) And the newest glimpse into his psuedo-imaginary world, "Norman is my little brother. My little brother lives outside in the dirt."

At least all of this nonsense provides good entertainment from time to time!

Our Biking Adventures

One of my favorite things to do with Grant is go bike riding. I've been wanting for some time to take my camera along and take some pictures along our route, because these times have become special and I want to remember them long from now. Since we live in a more rural area, we are able to veer off onto roads that are less-traveled and dotted with small farms and ranches. Our favorite route takes us along a road that several of our church members live on, so I am often able to stop and visit along the way. At the end is a ranch with 5 horses, so it is a perfect resting stop - I get a drink of water while Grant gets to look at the horses. I've so enjoyed our rides over the past 2 years. Now that Grant is an expert bike rider himself, it's harder to coax him into being a mere passenger, but once we are out riding, I feel free, and I love all the sights, sounds, and smells associated with being outside. I posted a few weeks ago about the book Sabbath. One of the practices it encourages is to spend more time in nature, as a purposeful observer, and it's true - after we bike, I feel more rested - more at peace.

The day I took my camera along, we had the treat of finding a big turtle out on the road next to the creek! Grant was so excited at our find.

What is Outside Your Window?

a view from our front porch

Admittedly, Brad and I have spent our 7 years of marriage in some unconventional housing. For the first 4 years, we had the distinct blessing of living in my grandparent's house out in the country (aka 'the ranch'). In the beginning, while moving in amidst their belongings, I didn't think I could make it there - the grief was too intense and the memories so close they took my breath away. But in the end, it was a sweet 4 years, one marked by tranquility and lots of making memories with friends. When I think of the ranch, what I picture in my mind's eye, is the view out of the kitchen window. A view of the backyard, wild grapes growing over the barbed wire fence, and beyond to the pasture, green and open, cows grazing lazily. That view always makes me pause and take a restful breath.

For 3 years now, we have been living in the parsonage that is next door to our church. The church was overwhelmingly gracious and generous - renovating it based on our tastes and helping us move in. I'll never forget our move-in day, watching everyone around me working so hard, thinking 'this is service - this is love getting its hands dirty'. There have been a lot of advantages of living in the parsonage, but one of the most unexpected blessings has come from the view from our front porch. You see, we live directly across from the Bosqueville Cemetery. It's the very definition of a rural cemetery - graves that date back to the late 1800's, overgrown with bluebonnets in the spring, a curved archway at its entrance. I have spent a lot of time on our front porch watching Grant play, etc. And one of the things that the view has done is center me time and time again. It reminds me how fleeting the days are, it's emptiness reminds me to labor after things that will last, it inspires me to live better.

I recently finished 2 books by Anne Lamott, a very popular Christian writer. I read both Traveling Mercies and Grace Eventually. I recommend both as they are witty and honest accounts of what a life of faith looks like. But it was a quote at the beginning of a chapter in Grace Eventually that stuck with me the most. It was a question from TS Eliott and it read, "Where is the life we have lost in living?" Now, as I sit on my porch and soak in the view, I ponder that question. For, sometimes life is hectic and I can go into auto-pilot, and sometimes life is so mundane that I feel I am simply existing. My view reminds me, this question reminds me, to live all my days - to use all of my senses. I wonder what our next house will look like, and what the view from that house will teach me...

Memorial Day

The family came up to the ranch for Memorial Day weekend and it was such a fun time. First, the weather was just beautiful. Not too hot, not too humid, cool breeze, blue skies with quintessential Texas clouds, everything a vibrant green.

Second, I love seeing Grant play with his cousins. I grew up without having any first cousins, so I am thankful he already has 3 and that he has a ball playing with them.

Third, it is fun to share some of the best times of my own childhood with Grant. I remember playing in the creek at the ranch, hours racing around the yard, rides out in the pasture to see animals, going on river adventures, etc. I'm glad he gets to grow up doing some of the same things I did.

Some of the better pictures:

Splashing with Sophia in the creek

Making Sophia laugh in the dune buggy

Getting Jake with the water gun

Hanging out in the hammock; poor Joshua is still too small to join the fun!

Amy and I are busy planning our first-ever "Cousin Camp" for early July. She is going to bring up the kids for 3 days of fun. We are making t-shirts and a full schedule. If all goes well, it will be a new family tradition!

Girl Meets God

I recently finished Girl Meets God by Lauren Winner and it was a fabulous read - I give it 4 stars for sure. It's a spiritual autobiography, the story of how she chose to become an Orthodox Jew and then was drawn to Christianity. It's a very honest, witty story and contains a lot of details about the ins and outs of both Judaism and Christianity. I found it interesting, inspiring, and just plain fun to read.

Some of my favorite parts...

Winner attends an Episcopal church and thus begins to learn the liturgy. She writes, "What I am learning the more I sit with liturgy is that what I feel happening bears little relation to what is actually happening. Work is being done whether I feel like it or not. Sediment is being laid. Words of praise to God are becoming the most basic words in my head. They are becoming the fallback words, drowning out advertising jingles and sometimes even my own interior monologue." The reason I appreciated this is because Brad and I are becoming more avid readers of Philip Newell and are trying to start a more regular routine of evening prayer. There is something so sacred about the time when we light a candle at the end of our day and begin to say together the now familiar words of our evening prayers. While I am more accustomed to extemporaneous prayer (having been in a Baptist church for so long), I am beginning to explore fixed prayers and have found that they are adding a richness to my experience since they so often give precisely the right voice to my feelings. Winner's words about liturgy also reminded me of Brian McLaren, who wrote in his book "Finding Our Way Again" that "learning something by heart can save you when your heart is broken so nothing can come from it except tears and spontaniety is simply another burden on an already overburdened soul."

If you are unfamiliar with Jewish traditions and holidays, then this book is a great primer, because it explains many Jewish customs and observances - many I knew nothing about. One chapter that I really liked talked about how we read the Bible. As a Sunday School teacher, whenever I teach the Old Testament, I rarely read it by itself. Meaning, in the back of my mind, I hear the New Testament themes that support whatever is going on in the OT and I often try to think of words that Jesus taught that would give any sort of meaning to the text as well. Winner writes about the book of Ruth and says, "To read Mary's inversion of Naomi's words as a statement that what's empty and incomplete in the Hebrew scriptures is fulfilled only in the coming of Christ is to miss the meaning of the book of Ruth. When Mary utters her famous line, when she reverses Naomi's speech, she is repeating a reversal that is already there in the text. The Hebrew scriptures open up the possibility of a Christian reading, but they can also be read, complete, by themselves." I liked this chapter because it reminded me that Christianity and Judaism were forever linked together long ago and it challenged me to remember that in my reading of scripture, to come to the text alone.

Perhaps one of her last chapters was the one that most struck home. It was a mere 3 pages long, but contained the most that really moved me. The subject is the Apostle's Creed, something I learned by heart growing up in the Methodist church. She writes that, "believe comes from the Old English, belove, making clear that this too is meant to be heart language. To say 'I believe in Jesus Christ' is not to subscribe to an uncertain proposition. It is a confession of commitment, of love. Saying the creed is like vowing to love your bride forever and ever. That vow is not a promise to feel goopy and smitten every morning for the rest of your life, It is a promise to live love, even, especially, when you don't feel anything other than annoyance and disdain." Later in the chapter she notes the passionate faith of teenagers and others who are new to the faith and she confesses that many of her friends wonder when she'll tire of Christianity and move on to a different faith. Then she writes, "I am not sure I have the passion to fall in love with a religion again. How to fall in love is not, now, what I need to learn. What I need to learn, maybe what God wants me to learn, is the long grind after you've landed". A couple of weeks ago, I was cleaning in our spare bedroom and noticed all of my journals from college. I could hardly recognize the girl that was writing in them. She seemed so full of faith and optimism and passion. I sat down and wondered where the intensity of that passion had gone. Then, when I read Winner's words, it struck me that I am in a different place now. I fell in love during college, but now, I am learning the commitment part of my faith - how to live love, and that's okay - it's just part of growing up.

Sabbath

My book club at church has gone through almost 30 books over the past 4 years. We've read some great ones, but Sabbath, by Wayne Muller is one of my favorites. We are meeting next week to discuss it and I can't wait. We have our meetings at a home out in the country with a huge screened in porch. When you drive up, there is a sign outside that says in a script font "Linger Longer" and that is always what I want to do at that house.

In his book, Muller examines traditions from a variety of faiths and provides practical ways to begin new rituals that promote rest and renewal. This is one of those books that if you start underlining significant passages, you'll end up underlining the whole thing.

This past year has been an interesting one for me in regards to rest and renewal. Before I quit working full time, I was juggling all these responsibilities: work, motherhood, being a wife, and being the wife of a pastor at that. I remember feeling like the whole world was closing down on me because of the pressure and the ever mounting list of demands on my time. In those moments, I would often just bear down and keep going, keep doing; anything to keep from my confronting my own unhappiness. Muller writes, "This is one of our fears of quiet; if we stop and listen, we will hear the emptiness. If we we are terrified of what we will find in rest, we will refuse to look up from our work, refuse to stop moving. But this emptiness has nothing at all to do with our value or our worth. All life has emptiness at its core; it is the quiet hollow reed through which the wind of God blows and make music that is our life. Without that emptiness, we are clogged and unable to give birth to music, love and kindness." In the space that has been created over the past year, I have learned this is true. I wish I had rested more in that busy season of my life, but I was afraid to. And when everyone around you is running faster and faster, it is hard to be the only one slowing down for rest. I know that my life will at some point have another time of intense responsibilities. I think I will be better prepared next time around, for I know resting is not optional - it is essential.

One of my favorite chapters was on the 'theology of progress'. Muller writes, "this then, is the theology of progress. Only when we get to the end can we lie down in green pastures, be led beside quiet waters, and allow our soul to be restored. This is the psalm we save for death, because in the world of progress, you do not rest in green pastures, you do not lie beside still waters, there is no time." If I am more aware, then I can see this flawed theology at work in the lives of those around me and in my own life all of the time. Even in what I sometimes deem my 'simple stay at home mom' life, I can easily think up a 'to-do' list that is 100 pages long that would keep me from ever sitting still to rest and reflect. Our mantra these days is "I am so busy". As Muller would say, it is our badge of honor. And true enough, we are often are very busy, but this book has reminded me that just because I am sometimes busy, I don't have to have a hurried heart or spirit. I can devote the same attention and priority to times of rest and renewal that I do to my other obligations. Muller says, "Sabbath dissolves the artificial urgency of our days, because it liberates us from the need to be finished."

The book speaks a lot about our consumer culture and its devastating effects on us. He recounts how the concept of a calculating a countries wealth, it's GDP, was started and how it gives such a distorted view of true wealth. He writes, "How do we count friendship or laughter? How do we count the value of honesty, or bread from the oven? How can we count the sunrise, the trusting clasp of a child's hand, a melody, a tear? So many truly precious things grow only in time and we can only begin to know their value when we stop counting. If we do not rest, if we do not taste and eat and serve and teach and pray and give thanks and do all those things that grow only in time, we will become more impoverished than we will ever know". We have had to penny pinch a lot this year, but I feel wealthier than I ever did before because I am learning to rest and really taste life. In surrendering to Sabbath, it is enlivening my senses so that I can see, and hear, and taste more fully.

I could write and write, but those are some of the reasons that I recommend this book so highly. It's going to take up permanent residence on my night-stand. I'm looking forward to hearing how it has influenced the lives of my friends next week...

On My Bookshelf

It all started back in January when Brad had to attend a seminar in Kerrville as part of his doctorate program (he is almost done with year 2!!!) entitled, 'Creative Reading for Imaginative Preaching'. Before the seminar, he was assigned a list of about 30 books to read in preparation (mind you, this was just about 3 weeks before the actual seminar). They covered all sorts of genres and in an effort to help him prepare, I read several of them too we could discuss them together. One of our favorites was a book we both missed somewhere along the way in junior high - The Giver by Lois Lowery. If you need a short fiction book, this is a great read! Anyways, Brad was really inspired during the week and all of the attendees shared their favorite books, so he came home with a huge new reading list.

I've been reading so much lately, and inspired by my good friend Christine, I am trying to change my reading style so I can soak up all the words. I have always read so fast. I can typically finish a novel in 2 days and its because I skim. I move my eyes over the page and quickly assess whether its important enough to actually read - if not, I just catch the overall meaning of the page and move on. Consequently, I can read a large volume of books, but I often can't really remember the storyline or the precise details of specific characters.

So, I think that I will use the next couple of posts to reflect on what I've learned from some of my recent books. Stay tuned and let me know what you're favorite books are!

Random Catch up

Maintaining a blog might be harder than I thought. I started it as a way to remember the funny things that happen, but life is so busy, that they slip by and now a week later, I can't remember them! I don't think this bodes well for my old age...

Anyways, here are some random recollections and thoughts about the past week or so about Grant and life in general.

1) Grant let his beloved HEB balloon go the other day and it floated up into the sky. A little later I see him drag his blue step stool out into the driveway. I asked him what he was doing and as he climbed on top and stretched up his hands, he looked at me matter of factly and said, "I get my balloon back." I love the optimism.

2) We have played hide and seek probably at least 200 hundred times in the past 7 days and I don't think I am exaggerating. We hide from Elmo, Abby, Tasha, and many other characters as well as Norman and Brad. The other day I peeked in on him at nap time and he was sitting up in his crib covered up with his blanket. And then, he found himself. He even hides from himself...

3) Grant started asking "why?" about 2 weeks ago. Literally it was like a switch was flipped and he changed from, "what's that?" to "why?". The thing I love is that now I will ask him why he did something and his answer is simply "because". It's like he's already part teenager, tormenting me by playing my own game.

4) This is going to sound really strange, but today, while I was biking with Grant in the bike trailer, I saw a snake going across the road. So I sped up and biked over it. Nothing happened though, it kept going. Two days ago, Grant found what I would deem a medium sized snake skin in our yard. From a decently fed snake, it was not skinny. Also, 2 weeks ago, they found 2 copperheads in the entrance to my building at Baylor. I am beginning to get nervous - this is way too many snake incidents in 2 weeks.

5) And this just made me laugh. This morning, I went to the post office to mail my Mother's Day gift. There was a family in front of me: mom, dad, and 2 children. I don't know why the children aren't in school - they are school aged. The older one is wearing dirty pajama bottoms and looks like he hasn't had a haircut in months. As I (admittedly rudely) stare at them, the boy looks over at me, grins with this crazy look, and then a green LIVE parakeet crawls up and peeks over his back at me. It was probably the weirdest trip to the post office ever. The bird stayed perched on his shoulder the whole time looking straight at me...

6. Lastly, we found a frog on the porch the other night. Grant loved playing with it and wasn't scared at all of touching it. Poor frog, after he was man-handled for a good 15 minutes of play, we convinced Grant to let him go "night-night and back to his own mommy and daddy."