avoiding work

While we've been eating pancakes (Matt doesn't like the name, 'Yogurt Pancakes', so I need to think of something else), Matt has been hard at work live blogging this, excellent, hopefull. Its so helpful to have a framework or a context to place over this whole mess. The whole church has been experiencing it, but so have I personally. Excellent Talk.

Yogurt Pancakes

So they were delicious. I used the basic Joy of Cooking pancake recipe substituting yogurt for milk, Lyle's Golden Syrup for sugar and then thinning it (heh) with heavy cream. We have tons of cream, just no milk. The pancakes were light, fluffy, a touch sour (which I loved but E was unsure about) and delicious. R methodically ate his way through three without stopping for breath Or, more surprisingly, throwing any on the floor, or himself. Then he had a bath and is now lying on the floor staring at the falling ice, like after Thanksgiving. Naked he's starting to look like one of those cheezy naked baby angels with wings and an arrow. I've never had a fat baby before so it's pretty satisfying. So, R and I highly recommend Yogurt Pancakes (with butter and syrup).

Seriously, there's no spell check.

Nessessity is the Mother

Knowing E didn't have school today in advance I promised pancakes for breakfast. But I don't have enough milk. So, I'm going to try to use yogurt instead, and maybe some bananas and chocolate chips to cover up the yogurt taste. I'll let you know how it goes.

(given that I have all the kids home today, I won't really have time to sit down and write, but also, the ice induces a blogging mood, so probably expect these short snippits all day, although I shouldn't promise anything, we'll see how it goes. Also, my spell check doesn't seem to working, and I'm a horrible speller, so enjoy that too.)

Icing

We can hear the ice falling heavily on the roof. I hoped to lie there and listen to it for hours, but four children and a dog and three cats do not want anyone lying around. So now we are watching it fall through the window. Unfortunately, we are perilously low on milk and there is No Way I am driving in this stuff, so the rationing begins.

More Prayer Required

Thank you to all of you who have been praying. Matt arrived at his destination safe and sound. We are coping here at home. I even got over to the church for a bit today to rearrange some furniture. Tomorrow I'm still intending to get into the kitchen and bake some various things.

But, I do covet your prayers for my parents who work at NEGST in Nairobi. Up to this point they have been fairly safe and out of the way. But the violence has been encroaching and security, though unarmed, has been 'beefed up'. There are more and more horrifying stories of the ethnic violence going on-people running desperately for their lives from gangs of people with machetes and so on. PLEASE PRAY.

Not too long ago my parents were evacuated from Ivory Coast when civil war broke out there. They are 'accustomed' to life in heated political climates but no amount of experience makes it easier (or safe). It is very difficult to be stuck and to be praying desperately every day for the safety of friends who have to travel through town, friends who live in the Kibera slum, and friends and faculty on the NEGST campus who are being threatened.

And of course, if you could continue to pray for Anglican and All Christian Leaders to be able to bring pressure to bear and help end the violence.
Thank You. Thank You.

Prayer Request

If you have a moment, pray for Matt who will be traveling tomorrow (by air, which makes me so nervous) and for the rest of us who will be without him for a week. Fortunately, my kiddos are wonderful and helpful (except for R, whose mission in life right now is to undo everything that has been done). But we will miss him very much. Also, he's taking my computer cord, so I may not be blogging much till Wednesday when my new one is supposed to arrive. Thanks so much.

My Sermon for This Morning

I had, before getting married, some unrealistic expectations about the state of marriage. And, like all expectations, I didn’t know that I had them until we got into our first married argument. I can’t even remember what it was about. But at some point, when we were shouting at each other, Matt said ‘why can’t you just tell me what you want?’ Can’t you just tell me what you need?’ I looked at him in horrified disbelief. ‘What do you mean?’ I said. ‘I can’t do that. I don’t know what I need or want. That’s why I married you. You’re supposed to figure out what it is that I want, and then give it to me.’ He was justifiably unimpressed. But I will say that over the course of being married, he has gotten to know me pretty well. He has studied me, a little bit. After a while of being married, maybe a few months, I was sitting on the couch in a stupor, and he walked in with a carefully built sandwich of tomato, mustard, and paper thin pancetta. I was shocked. ‘What is this for?’ I asked. ‘You get cranky when you’re blood sugar is low,’ he said, ‘and I can see that you’re starting to get hungry and tired. Eat it.’ Over time he’s more or less figured out what makes me tick, often better and before I myself have figured it out. Now, this really only serves to show you the appalling degree to which I lack awareness of myself, but it also illustrates, just a little that we may know a lot about ourselves, we may know a lot about other people, but there are depths to our own selves that even we can not plumb. As we’ve said over and over again and again, sin causes a brokenness on three levels—we are broken and divided from God, we are broken and divided from each other, and we experience also a brokenness and division within ourselves. When you repent of your sin and turn to God and accept his work on the cross and he comes to live inside you, that brokenness begins to be healed—we have a new whole relationship with God, with other people and also with ourselves. Turn with me, this morning, to Psalm 139. I want to apologize for making you slog through such a long psalm section this morning. There’s usually a choice of a long section of psalm, and a short section, and 99% of the time I pick the short section, but today is an exception because I want us to look at this together. Today we are talking about God knowing you. Next week we are going to take up You knowing God.
So, Psalm 139 The psalmist here is believed to have been King David. I don’t want to say a lot about him except that in the Old Testament, he shines out as one of a handful of people who really Knew God, who got the point of God, who understood who God was in himself and loved and followed him. But that knowledge of God did not happen by itself, or out of nothing. It began with God, and God’s knowledge of David. “Lord, you have searched me out and know me.” The word search, here, is liken to a night thief who searches carefully and diligently for the desired object. Someone who comes in and undoes, who disrupts to get to the guts of a room. When I walked up to the office this Thursday, the window had been shattered and glass was everywhere, but also, the drawers were empty and all the paper dumped out. You could see into the empty shelves that hold all the paper I use to copy the bulletin. The room was both wrecked and laid bear. God’s knowledge and searching of you, from your perspective, can have this same quality. First of all, you should know that God knows you whether you know him or not. He created you, every fiber, every molecule, every brain synapse. Even if you don’t know him, or you’re trying to hide from him, or you’re trying to ignore him, he knows you and knows the why and how and the wherefore of you. But if you at once turn to Jesus and ask him to come and live inside you, even as you are turning to him and he is turning your heart and opening your heart to himself, you will begin to experience God’s perfect knowledge of you—he searches you, he undoes you, he lays you bear. He pulls everything out of the inmost places of your heart into the light and shows you the knowledge that he has of you. David describes the substance and extent of God’s searching knowledge. He knows when you sit, whether it be difficultly and pain, whether it be in sorrow or joy, whether it be in hope and expectation. When you arise. When you get up in the morning and immediately argue with everyone you love, when you rise up exhausted having lain awake and troubled, when you wake up refreshed and happy. At rest, rising up, God knows where you are. David goes on, “You discern my thoughts from afar.” Not that God is afar off, distant from you, but that your thoughts, even before they have arisen in your mind, even before you yourself know them, even when they are confounded and tangled and confused, God knows them. He knows their meaning and purpose. He understands them. Wherever you go, wherever you stop and rest, if you are running crazy and purposeless, between soccer and dance and basketball and work, if you are stopped, quiet in your house without anywhere to go, wherever you are, God is acquainted with your ways, he has studied them, he knows what you are about. Verse 4. Before you speak, God knows what you are going to say, even before you know it yourself. He knows it completely—its meaning, its purpose, the intention, how the other person hears it, he knows. David sums up, He hems you in, behind and before. Where ever you go, his hand is upon you. You can’t even begin to understand this kind of knowledge. You can’t even fathom the depth and heighth and width of God’s knowledge of you, whether you know him or not, whether you want him or not. Should you consider running from him, to heaven, to hell, to the end of the earth, to the end of the universe, you won’t be able to. He is already there, ahead of you. In the depths of your soul, in the depths of earth, he is there. What then can you do? How then will you live? Turn to Matthew, chapter 4, beginning in verse 18. As Jesus was walking by the clear blue Sea of Galilee, the Lord of Heaven and Earth saw two brothers casting a net into the lake, because they were fishermen and he said to them, “Come, follow me. I will make you fishers of men,”. You’d think that Peter and Andrew would have wanted some more information, or a promise down in writing that everything would turn out well, or a sales pitch, or something. Jesus doesn’t give any more information. But looking at him Peter and Andrew and then James and John don’t require anything else. They get up At Once and follow him. At some point Jesus, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, God who has complete and perfect and astounding knowledge of you is going to walk through your life and say ‘Come, follow me.’ Most of you have already had this experience. If you haven’t, come to me on the side altar during communion and we’ll talk about it. But most of you have. Most of you were sitting quietly with your nets, handling things on your own, dealing with the complexity of life without too many hassles. And then Jesus came to you and said ‘I love you, follow me’ and you said yes. You got out of your boat, you left your net, you left your kitchen table, or your best idea of what to do with your day and you followed him. Some of you are settled in this new life with Jesus, with God. But some of you feel like all the cupboards and drawers and closets have been emptied out and you are laid bare, before God, and it’s uncomfortable, and maybe painful, and you don’t know what the next few steps are going to be like. Take comfort, even there, his hand will guide you, his right hand will hold you fast. The God who knows you, perfectly, and who has called you and saved you, this same God has a job for you, has plans to put your life together in a new and better way. This same God loves you and is prepared to provide for you, to make you a fisher of men. It begins, today, with his knowledge of you. It will spread to your knowledge and love of him. Next week we’ll pick there, with how to know Jesus. Amen.

Well, Isn't that Fine

In honor of getting 50,000 hits!!! I've done a little site redesign. As a little present to myself and A Big Thank You to all of you who have been reading here over the last year and a bit.

Saturday Evening Amy Carmichael

page 66

If
I refuse to allow one who is dear to
me to suffer for the sake of
Christ,
if I do not see such suffering as the
greatest honor that can be
offered to any follower of the
Crucified,
then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If

Updates on Catechesis and Life Part Two

I was in the middle of long and elaborate posting here when I had to stop mid thought. Can't remember what that thought was any more, BUT, I do remember that I had intended to post some pictures of a project I got off track with. Instead of making materials, I spent a day and a half making these little boxes, one for each child in the atrium (and a few extras in case we had visitors that day)

which I gave out at Epiphany.

A Little More Being Off Track

Thank you for your prayers. The church was cleaned up in record time yesterday. Ladies with a lot more energy than me got in and got it done. I need to go over and help with the sorting of paper in the office but I haven't been able to light a fire under myself this morning. I've been wandering around the house aimlessly looking for a phone charger and trying to decide where to start in all the cleaning. Probably I'm going to chuck it, though, and go mess around in the atrium. Whoever it was came in throw the third floor/attic window and so things need to be righted up there.

Upsetting

Thrown off course today by the early news that the church had been broken into during the night. Matt chucked his morning routine and went over by 8 to find sections of the building ransacked-the offices, the votive/prayer candle stand, the coke machine, various closets, the safe. Amazingly, whoever it was didn't take Anything except the check book, and I'm pretty sure some few odd dollars of birthday money. But two windows were broken and all the paper and drawers dumped out in the office. Its going to take a while to clean up. I'm most sad about votive stand.

Updates on Catechesis and Life part One

Its been a long while since I've said anything about Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, the Sunday School Program we are using at Good Shepherd. For those of you who are not interested, you might as well not read on because I'm going to get technical and possibly a little whiny.

Way back when, I started this blog as a complaining space because I was in school to earn a second MA in theology specializing in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. I did, I recall, two and a half full courses and then, finding myself pregnant with baby #4 and not terribly happy with the program, I dropped out. My unhappiness came largely from having been to seminary for an MDiv. The program turned out to be a review of everything I'd already done. So it was boring, and a lot of work, and not up to date, and not really about Catechesis of the Good Shepherd so it seemed good to me to drop out.

Also, it was hard to be in school and pregnant and trying to start Kindergarten with baby #1, who wasn't a baby any more. (I was pregnant with baby #1 my last semester of seminary, and I don't think I actually learned anything, I was so unwell and throwing up). Those of you early readers of this blog saw on the side bit the word 'homeschooling' which is no longer there. Baby #1 ended up going to school this year to a very nice private Christian Baptist school where she is really learning to read, instead of me going out of my mind while she explained to me, carefully, every morning, that she already knew how to read and so we didn't need to be doing what I thought we were going to do that day.

In the process of dropping out of school and dropping out of homeschooling and having another baby, I also dropped the ball on Catechesis. Not entirely. I had enough ground work laid that I have been able to get through almost a whole year of Level Two without making any new materials or doing any new presenations. But I had other hiccups this year.

First, I lost my excellent Level One helper (she moved away)
Then I lost my Junior High school teacher (she got married),
Then we hired a real live youth minister who needed space to teach Sr. High, i.e. the Library where the Jr. High had been meeting.

We basically only have 4 spaces for Christian Ed on Sunday morning (the parish hall where Matt does Adult Ed, the Library, and the attic with its small room and big room).

So I was faced with Level Two and Junior High in the same space.
My first move (in the heat of summer and 3rd Trimester) was to flip my atriums. I moved Level One into the tiny postage stamp Attic room and Level Two into the big room. And then to divide the space visually, though not in reality. I have all the Level Two materials in one half, and a plain table and posters in the other half with the prayer table in the middle. I've already posted pictures here and here. Trouble was, it was loud, and everyone was consistently really late, and I was handing off an album page to my helper for level two and then trying to handle the Jr. high without any curriculum (I thought we would do some Old Testament, and I thought they could paint some stuff).

I struggled along unhappily through the fall. But then, the first Sunday of Advent, for whatever reason (it went so well it must have been the Holy Spirit) I combined the groups at my big table, lit the first candle and asked if they knew what Advent was. They didn't. They didn't have a clue. And so, in the course of an hour, I shared the gospel straight out. We talked about Jesus coming the first time, and the second time, and what that might mean for them personally, and how then we ought to live. Of course, the second Sunday of Advent there was bad weather (or maybe it was good) and nobody came. And then they were back the third Sunday and we did Synthesis of the Prophecies, all together, and then the fourth week I had Jesus be born. In other words, since then, I've had the groups together and I always go in with an Album Page and most often a material to go with it, BUT usually I end up chucking the whole thing and trying to keep their attention for the hour.

And I haven't had any time to make materials, much to my unhappiness. ...got to feed the baby, but don't want to loose this so will just post it, agh, more in a few minutes...

Trifle, in all its glory

It was delicious. And long gone. Wish y'all could have been here.

Weekend In Review

Slow Cooking Saturday
black beans, chopped tomato, corn, 1 can Ortega green chilies, green pepper, stock, 1 teaspoon ground cumin, 1 teaspoon cayenne pepper, 1 teaspoon chili powder, salt, pepper
low for 4 hours
sour cream, shredded cheddar cheese, warm tortillas

Slow Cooking Sunday
left over roast chicken, shredded (actually, I dumped it in frozen), frozen stock, frozen gravy, carrots, potatoes, a handful of thyme
low for 6 hours. Came home from church, stirred it, added cream, flour, sour cream, frozen green beans and cream

Good Reading
one of my favorite blogs: good thoughts on feminism

An Excellent Sermon
Matt's been on a roll of good preaching. This week was particularly excellent. More and more he lays the scriptures bare.

Football
A: The blue ones are good and the white ones are bad and the blue ones are going to win.
Matt: No they're not. The blue ones are not good.
A: But I don't like white. I like blue. The blue ones are good and the white ones are bad.
Matt: You can like the blue, but they're not good.
A: They are good. I like them.
Matt: Ok

Dessert
stale whole wheat cinnamon buns shredded(from Thursday-left them open over the heater, stupidly, and they dried up), custard made of three eggs, 1/2 cup half and half, 1/2 cup whole mild, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla, 1 tablespoon cinnamon, 1/2 cup sour cream
baked at 350 until all puffy and golden

Vulgar but Funny
Not going to link it, because that would make it easier for you to go there and I don't want to encourage that sort of thing, but if you do go to Mad Priest, he makes fun of Matt (Matt Kennedy sees image of Jesus in Da Vinci painting). Mad Priest seems to be unhappy about Matt calling his site 'vile' on Stand Firm, you'd have to scroll down further. Mad Priest is feeling insecure. Heh.

Rolling a Stone Up a Hill

Yesterday, having intended to do something else (like plan for Sunday School and clean the house) I dragged all the children's clothes out of their cupboards for the seasonal sort. With four kids, slightly off season, I have bins and bins and bins of clothes. A and R are 2 years apart so that I haven't had time to put that much away. Basically R is just shoved into A's big clothes (he's short, but pudgy, so we just roll up the pants and let him go, he's always taking everything off anyway right now). But there's five years between E and G and so that requires serious digging through the attic for unmarked boxes of clothes I was stupid enough to through up there. It took me the whole day, basically, to get through everything and reorder it. But this time, instead of sending it all back up to the attic, I've socked away, in cupboards both this winter, this summer and actually next fall as well for the littles. So now really all that remains of my serious house sorting are the toys, Matt's clothes and my memorabilia/nostalgia cupboard wherein I throw things without sorting them (always a bad idea). I've given myself through February to get all this done, but its weighing on my mind. I'd just like to get it over with.

I'm sure its a little nuts, all this sorting and purging. Matt would just like me to ignore it and go on with general house upkeep. But if I don't handle it now it will only get worse. So that's what I was doing Friday. For an accounting of what I did Thursday, check back later for pictures.

Praise Be

Alright Grandpa, they're in the mail! At your very fine suggestion I sent Micah to the post office (Matt is way over taxed for such an endeavor).

Because endeavor it is. The Binghamton Post Office (not the main one downtown, but the southside one, here on Vestal, the nice little block of a box, with that good old hometown feeling) is no small undertaking. Even suppose you don't take four children, or even one R, with you. You have to prepare your body, mind and soul to go in. Or at least I do. I'm not looking for that good old hometown feeling. I'm looking to mail my stuff and get out. However, once in, and in line, you can depend upon waiting many many many minutes while B- and M- ask you extensively about how you are, how your family is, if you would like stamps, what kind of stamps, if you want insurance, if you really want to send the package, all the available rates and speeds, in short, every possible question, not only of you but of every person ahead of you, so that, after standing and listening for 45 minutes, you want to run screaming from the building. It means seriously gearing up, for me, to event think about going in. I feel so strongly about not going to the post office, unfortunately, that I frequently fight with people on Sunday morning about it. Everybody here on the South Side pretty well loves B- and M- and feels dread about the long off day when the retire.

Anyway, it hadn't occurred to me to muscle someone else into going. I can't send Matt, like I mentioned before, because life is too short. And he gets combative and ends up bringing home notes about the proper way to collect or send mail. But then, just after posting, Micah presented himself and asked (undoubtedly foolishly-he called twice from the post office to make sure about what I was sending and some other wretched little forms he had to filled out) if there was anything I needed. Micah is a soothing and calm person, the kind of person who can calm the shattered postal worker and postal customer. So, I'm so grateful. It only took three months. Heaven preserve me when I have to mail something else.

Excuses, Excuses

Ok, so I just posted a bunch. Should have spread it out over several days, but who knows if I'll have time the rest of the week. I am now going to put this nice warm computer down, and do some serious cleaning and letter writing and phone call making and try to catch up a little, just a very very little. And I'm going to try and play with A. He has put on a Bob the Builder outfit with a knight in shining armor tunic over that and then a breast plate over that, plus helmet, shield and sword. And he's scowling at me and asking for chocolate. So, enough blogging.

AND, because I know I've been a huge disappointment to those who profess to love me and therefore require pictures (Grandma and Grandpa) I'm Trying, I really really am. I've been wildy taking pictures and putting them on cd's and things and I have them sitting here to mail. Thing is, I haven't been able to face the idea of the post office with 4 kids, or even 3 or even just R, or R and the baby. Every time I start to get everyone dressed to go out, I start to moan gently to myself and feel very sad and 3 or 4 excuses leap to mind of other things to do. So, today I'm checking out Snap Fish, Flickr and Shutterfly and trying to see if that will be a doable option. Not to say that I won't get to the post office, its just, well, gasp, maybe tomorrow. In the meantime, hopefully pictures tonight.

Stock

I think someone asked about stock. Here's what I do.

A la Nigella Lawson, I freeze all my bone scraps. When I roast a chicken, I freeze the carcass (sometimes including bones off people's plates). Same with turkey and, from Christmas, the goose and duck carcassas. I also save lamb bones and any other kind of bone we happen to have eaten. I sock them away in the freezer, and basically, over the course of a few months, I gather enough bones/carcassas to fill my large stock pot. The morning of stock day, I take them all out and dump them in (frozen) adding carrots, celery, onions (whole), italian parsley, whole pepper corns, a little salt (not much at all), fresh tyhme, whole garlic and sometimes whole cloves. I fill the pot with water (to the very top-it will bubble over a little, but it's worth it) and turn it on high. Sometimes I remember to run back and scoop off the muck as it comes a boil, but mostly I forget. When I can hear it spilling over the sides I run back and turn it on low, as low as low, and let it simmer for the rest of the day. Around 5pm or so I try to remember to turn it off and push it off the burner (by this time its reduced down by an inch or two). I let it sit through supper and into the evening, and then between 10 and 11pm, when everything else is done and cleaned up, I strain it (I don't bother to strain through a cheese cloth, although that would be a sensible and worthwhile thing to do) and portion it out into 3 or 4 cup, 1 cup and 1/2 cup tupperware containers. Then I jam it all in the freezer. Then I have to seriously scrub the stove, pick the remaining meat off the bones for soup, and soak the stock pot over night. If I had my wits about me, after the stock froze I'd take it out of the tupperwares and bag it, but I never bother. When the freezer is empty of stock, and all the containers are back in the cupboard, and I have carcasses piling up, I know its time to make stock again. This probably sounds like a lot of work, but actually, it takes three minutes to shove everything in the pot in the morning, and maybe a half hour/45 minutes at night (depending on interruptions) every 3 to 6 months. And it so rich and golden and better than anything I've picked up in the store. It adds depth and dimension to soup/sauce/gravy/everything. And its restful, like most all my full day cooking projects.

Repost Per Request

White Bread
1 T yeast, 2 T brown sugar, ¼ cup warm water,
1 ¾ cup milk, an egg, 2 t salt, 6 T salted butter, 4-6 cups white flour, or to feel.

Fancy Bread
1 T yeast, 2 T brown sugar, ¼ cup warm water, 1 ¾ cup milk, an egg, 2 t salt, 6 T salted butter, 1 T poppy seeds, 2 T flax seed, 2 T finely chopped walnut, 3-4 T millet (cooked in about as much water just until the water evaporates and the millet begins to split open), ½ cup rye flour, ½ cup wheat flour, ½ cup oatmeal (cooked or raw), 2 to 3 cups white flour, any other flours or anything you like but at least half the flour should be white foreby to have enough gluten.

Mix it all together (I in my kitchen aid) making sure that the salt doesn’t hit the yeast directly. Kneed for roughly ten minutes. Let it rise till doubled in size, punch it down, form rolls and loaves, rise again, bake at 350 degrees until golden and satisfying.

Another Anglican Carnival

Hosted by A Ten O'Clock Scholar and At a Hen's Pace.

The Ten Commandments

A long while back, At a Hen's Pace requested that I post our ten commandments song. So finally, here it is (though not the podcast. We got the kids to sing it, but they were shy and whispering into the little recorder thing. We'll try again at some point but it will take some practice).

To the old 70's tune 'I'd like to buy the world a home' or better known 'I'd like to buy the world a coke' or, as I originally learned it 'Amazing Grace'

Here's our words (don't go to the chorus until the very end).

The Lord your God the Lord is One
And you shall have no others
You shall not make any idols
Or misuse God's name.
You shall keep the sabbath holy
And honor your mommy and daddy
You shall not ever kill
And you shall always be faithful
You shall not ever steal
Or tell a lie
You shall not be envious of your neighbors Stuff!

chorus:
It's the real thing.
If you're looking for love.
God's gift from above.
It's the real thing.

kitchen day

I have been making weekly batches of bread in my trusty and beloved Kitchen Aid for the last 5 years. Thing is, I've been overloading the poor thing such that bits are falling off and the motor is running very hot. And then on top of that I lost the dough hook on Thanksgiving. So in the spirit of charity and good will, and because he hasn't gotten me a birthday or Christmas present in the last few years, Matt agreed to a beautiful 6 quart cinnamon red professional grade standing kitchen aid mixer.

So, A and I made cookies this morning in the old one in honor and memorium. And I will probably make bread in it one more time before the new one comes, just for nostalgia's sake.

And I also have soup going in my fine new Christmas slow cooker-white beans, green beans, fresh thyme, ham, stock and finely chopped potato. I'm having a hard time not standing eating it right out of the cooker. And I'm going to make whole wheat biscuits to go with it.

The slow cooker has been fabulous-ESPECIALLY for Sundays. For the last 5 years we've come back from church and eaten cereal if we've eaten anything. Or I think once I made guacamole. But basically its cereal after church. Except for the last three Sundays when I've put, at 6 in the morning, stock, garbanzo beans, sweet potato, canned tomato, curry powder, frozen corn, carrots, and green pepper all together, oh, and lightly sauteed onion and garlic, in the slow cooker and let it go all morning, so that when we got back from church there it was. So delicious. So much better than cereal. We've actually sat down at the table together, before all collapsing for naps.

So now I'm going to reorganize the freezer. Merry Christmas.

Sunday Sound Bits

Early in the Morning, getting dressed for church:
E: She looks gorgeous! Gorgeous!
Me: Doesn't she.
E: She looks like you in that dress.
Me: Really? Wow. Thank you.
E and I gaze lovingly at G who is dressed in a frilly white and pink dress with tights and fancy shoes. I am dressed all in black with no fancy shoes, no frills and no tights. I appreciate the compliment.

Later in the Car:
E: This is the day, this is the day, this is the day, this is the day, this is the day.
A: Weeping. I can't find my spider man.
R: Daddy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!

Later in the evening, after eating the top layer of the trifle:
E: I'm really good at reading this book. I'm really good at this.
A: The red knight in shining armor is bad and the blue knight in shining armor is good. And they are fighting and the good knight in shining armor is going to win.
E: Dear Jesus, thank you for this day. Please help the good knight in shining armor to win. Amen.

Trifle

I have lots of things to do, like photograph and post a lot of little pictures, and figure out how to use Shutterfly or whatever its called, and paint a backdrop for the Flight into Egypt, and finish the bulletin, and put all the laundry away and vacuum the house, BUT, I am also busily making a trifle, and one of my own invention based on what I have in my pantry. Basically, upon completion, it will be

yellow/lemony birthday cake cut in thick strips
custard
ginger and rum sauce
peaches
whipped cream
all layered together in my fancy and extremely cheep new trifle bowl from the Christmas Tree Shop (bought on the last day with employee discount)

and I've invited the whole world over to see and admire it on Sunday after church. I'll also take pictures, because its so thrilling.

On the Occassion of Reading 'The Emperor's New Clothes'

Ea: Is this a real story or a fake one?
Me: It's a real story but it didn't happen for real.
E: It seems like a real story.
Me: That's because it has such a good lesson at the end.
E: Yeah. The lesson is that we should always wear clothes, except when we're getting dressed.
Me: Yes, that is an important lesson.
A: Yeah, like when I'm getting dressed and I have to get my clothes and get dressed.
Me: Yeah, just like that.

My Sermon for This Morning

So yesterday was my last day at the Christmas Tree Shop. And it just so happens that yesterday everyone was buying these cute little mugs. They’re white, with various little words and pictures all over them. As I picked one up to scan it I thought, ‘oh, that’s nice’, and then my eye fell on the writing and pictures. They were little astrological mugs—you could get your sign on a mug, with all the characteristics that go with it. Now, I’ll admit to being ignorant. I don’t even know what my ‘sign’ is or what its supposed to mean and what kind of person it makes me. I don’t look in the paper or online to find out what’s supposed to happen to me that day, and when people ask me, ‘what’s your sign’, I’m usually baffled and don’t ever have a good answer, like, Jesus is my sign, or something.

Now of course, sensible people read and look at horoscopes and go on through the day, probably not being materially affected by them in the short term, but others really do cast their fate upon the stars, and look and read and hope for a sign from somewhere to tell them what to do next and what’s going to happen. Because, this is a lost and seeking generation, a land full of people who don’t know where to go or who will look after them or what to believe in, a nation of people who look at the stars, or break open a cookie, or measure out coincidences, looking for some direction or sign that there’s a way to go. This seeking and hunting for a sign is not Necessarily a wise way to live, a life of wisdom and understanding. But it’s not new either.

At the time of Jesus, astrology was alive and well. People interested in creation, in the vastness of the earth and the infinite scope of heaven, looked at the stars and mapped them out and watched, and waited for something to happen. These people sought wisdom, wanted understanding, they saw the dark night sky and looked for light. Some translations of the Bible call them ‘Wisemen’, but the Greek word really means something more like ‘magician’.

We don’t know very much about them. Traditionally, the church has fixed on three, from different places, but there could have been many more, and more likely all from one place, most likely from Persia. You remember Judah was taken captive, to Babylon, and amongst those taken were Daniel and his friends—the cream of the crop of Jerusalem. After being captured, they weren’t sent to work in the fields, they were sent to the palace and their wisdom was renowned. Daniel, having lived an exemplary life And having had many visions of future times, wrote them all down and left them, and other works, for the Babylonians and later the Persians who conquered the Babylonians to peruse at their leisure. In other words, if you were sitting around in Mesopotamia at the time of Jesus, looking at the stars and wondering where is the meaning in it all, you could roll open a scroll and learn about God, the Lord of Heaven and Earth and all the amazing things he had coming up.

So, when one such wise man walks out onto his roof in the evening, as the stars are beginning to pierce through the blue night sky, and sees something so bright its insane, and closes his eyes and looks again, and finds its still there, hanging suspended, and so bright, well, what is a wise man to do? But go and find his friends. They climb on the roof again and look at it and are stirred. It’s that bright. Other people see it too, but they don’t know where all the stars normally are. They’ve got washing to do, and a baby crying, and the neighbor won’t stop complaining about their loud donkey. The wise men dig in the royal archives looking for anything to tell them about this star, and they land on some stuff left by the foreign Daniel including the prophet Isaiah, ‘Arise, shine, for your light has come…Nations will stream to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawning’. The star is so bright they can’t even help it. They pack up their stuff and head for Israel.

Meanwhile, Mary and Joseph are quietly living in Bethlehem, remember, only about 7 miles from Jerusalem. That’s like, what, driving to Endicott? That’s a long way. They have a little house now, by no means rich. They’re enjoying their baby Jesus. He’s starting to get to the really cute baby walking stage—between one and two years, before the awful teeth and the awful attitude, well, Jesus didn’t have the attitude. He’s running around the little house and yard with his chest out and his arms back, the King of all Creation.

The wise men travel and travel and arrive, worn and weary, in Jerusalem. They figure if something big is happening, they should go to the center of Israel, to Jerusalem, because probably everybody will be talking about it. They’ll be sure to get their answers there. But basically nobody knows what they’re talking about. In the market people are short and irritated. There hasn’t been a star. What’s your problem? Look, go ask King Herod, old King Herod, who’s corrupt and good at playing various sides against each other. That’s what you have to do if you want to be king a long time, manipulate everybody, be everybody’s friend and enemy. Herod, no surprise, hasn’t been reading his Bible, he hasn’t been looking at the sky or the page. When the wise men get in to see him, he is greatly troubled. You bet he’s troubled. These guys are looking for a King, but it’s clearly not him they’re looking for. They don’t lay out their gifts, they don’t settle in to congratulate him on all his fine kingly accomplishments. They’re looking for the ‘king of the Jews’. You’d be unsettled too if you thought you were the king of the Jews, sitting in your own living room, on your own fine chair, with all your own fine people, and someone came in looking for the king of the Jews but not for you. Troubled is right. Herod gets his ‘wise men’ to dig around in the archives.

The magicians are right, they say, the Messiah is due to arrive about now, in Bethlehem. Amazingly, Herod doesn’t order a comfy little chariot to drive him the 7 miles to Bethlehem to check things out himself. He tries to double cross the foreigners. ‘You go’ he says, ‘go see how it is, but then come back and tell me because I’m definitely going to get up and make the astonishing effort to go worship him myself.’ No wonder the wise men, being warned to go home a different way, don’t object or question the dream. Herod isn’t the picture of someone full of curiosity, wonder and longing for the truth about God. It doesn’t take magic to see that.

They pack up their stuff and head out, wondering how they’re going to find this king, probably discouraged. They’ve come all this way to see something amazing, and worn their feet out in a town of people who couldn’t care less. What a let down. But, as they head out of town, in the dark cold breathless quiet of early early early morning, the star appears. The sky is pierced by its brightness. They pick up their feet and go, the miles slip by and before they even can breathe, they are there, the house, plainer than plain, the door, the baby.

They go into the house and lay down their gifts—gold, tribute owed a king; frankincense, the sweet smell of prayer wending up to heaven; myrrh, embalming spice, the shadow of death—and they worship him. They lay themselves down before him. They put their whole bodies, souls, minds and hearts into submission, honor, respect, adoration, love, obedience—they worship him.

Who knows where they stayed that night. Maybe Mary made up extra beds and they all got to hold Jesus and play that really great fun pounding game where everyone knows how to bang on the table, and they ate dinner and sat around talking way into the night. Or maybe they stayed in an inn. Who knows? But while they were sleeping, the shadow of death and warning was given to them. They didn’t go back to Herod. When they set off they took the opposite road out of town, away from Jerusalem, quietly, without a fuss. A lot of people didn’t even know they had been. And later, but not much later, Joseph also gets a warning dream and within hours he and Mary have packed up the small plain house, closed the door, and are crossing the boarder quietly into Egypt before anyone has noticed.

Where are you this morning? Are you on your rooftop, gazing at the stars, looking at the wonder of creation and seeking for a sign? Do you need direction and hope and love?

Are you on the streets of Jerusalem, busy, unconcerned, not curious about where God is or what he is doing? Have you become distracted by many things and lost your focus?

Or are you here, before the king, having given the gift of your whole self to him in worship, putting your whole body, soul, mind, heart down at his feet in obedience and wonder?

Where ever you are, the signs are in your favor.

You don’t have to look in the paper to find out what is going to happen next. You don’t have to crack open that next cookie looking for advice and encouragement. You don’t have to despair that there is no direction, no place to go, nothing to hope in. God, the Lord of heaven and earth came all the way down here, took on flesh, a body, the fat baby legs of life, put a star in the sky to show you where he is, gave you this book to help you know what’s going on and who’s organizing everything, picked you to bring you here this morning to hear about him, to meet him, to grow in him and to worship him.

But now the ball is in your court. If you’re looking for God, he is here this morning looking for you. Open the door of your heart and ask Jesus to come in and forgive your sins and make you whole. Trust in him. If you aren’t looking, if you’ve closed the door and are piling stuff in front of it, don’t be hard this morning. Push all that stuff away and seek after God. Don’t let many things be more important to you than Jesus. And if you’re here this morning to worship, then lay your whole self down, don’t hold anything back.

Arise up, this morning, and shine, for your light has come, Jesus, to love you, save you, and guide you. Worship him. Worship Jesus Christ the King. Amen.

Addendum to Previous Resolusions

Felt bad, on Wednesday and Thursday after posting Tuesday, and after reading a lot of other people's blogs, about not making any spiritual resolutions for the new year. Then wondered why 1. I hadn't thought of it and 2. why I felt bad. I mean the new year, while a nice clean slate in many respects, is only the interim time between Advent and Lent, a limbo-ous time where I spin my wheels between liturgical events (the Christmas Pageant and the Great Vigil of Easter). Resolutions are immediately broken when the liturgical season changes (for me anyway) and I try to take on new resolutions. And, sadly, my expectations for spiritual growth have taken a beating this year. I know I will grow spiritually, but I don't want to think about it in advance, because God is so organized and I am not, and I once prayed for humility, and received it. And a few years ago prayed for faithfulness, and received it (ie General Convention 2003). And at the beginning of last year, when I had all kinds of hopes and plans, I prayed for God's will, and received it. So this year, I'm Not resolving, and I'm not asking. I know God will give me what I need anyway, I don't want to make it worse than it needs to be.

I shouldn't be so numb and vague. I've been trying for several days to put into words what this past year has been, and I've been coming up short every time. The best I can say, I guess, is that the last six months have been like God deep cleaning a room. When I deep clean, it looks awful in the process (I am actually deep cleaning the whole house, and everyone is complaining because of all the junk everywhere-I have everything out of cupboards, in no particular order, so that I can get to the back of the cupboard to dust and find junk to throw away). I'd say parts of this last year were awful, or awfully difficult. And all the time as I was plodding through, not paying much attention tripping over piles of junk and muck, God was throwing and dusting and purging and shaping and reorganizing. Such that come January 1st (miraculously in fact) many things had been put in order, including my time, my attitude, my work, my priorities and my expectations. I'm starting this new year humbler, quieter, more focused (I think) and more dependent on God. I don't know what he's planning to do with me. I haven't made many plans, except to clean the house and be in church, and pay attention to my children. As the communion unravels, it gets closer and closer to home, this house, our own quiet lives. It looks bleaker to me. We are worn by this long unresolved division. But sustained. And epxectent. I am only, then, resolved to watch and wait and see what happens, and be ready when it does.

The Snow Lay on the Ground

We're going to try to venture out this morning and spend some small portion of our Christmas money on storage. My hope is to put all the nice things the children got for Christmas into boxes that are very difficult for them to open so they can never mess up the house. Just kidding, sort of. We do seriously have to weed through what they already have to make way for all the new stuff. So that's my project for the week.

And I also intend a serious materials making day. I actually want to paint a lot of little boxes for my Sunday School kids for Epiphany, with a verse or something inside. We'll see how it goes.

And I'm also settling on my new years resolutions. I think I've settled on three that are achievable.

1. I'm going to loose the weight of 2 babies plus.
2. I'm going to pray and read the bible 5 days out of 7 (of course, 7 would be better, but if I make it to 5, then I can aim for 7)
3. I'm going to read 6 books. And I welcome suggestions on the books.

And now I'm going to go stand at the window and watch Matt and E and A shovel snow and thank God for men and children.

Happy New Year

Put the children to bed early after informing them that 2007 was effectively over and tomorrow would begin 2008. SO happy they have no idea and that we don't all have to stay up.

Roasted two turkey legs in the following manner:
started oven at 450, buttered and stuffed tyme under the skin of the legs, laid them on a bed of mushrooms, baby pearl onions and garlic. Roasted the legs for 25 minutes and then turned the oven down to 325 for the last half hour/45 minutes. While they rested I removed the mushrooms, pearl onions and garlic onto a bed of fresh baby spinich and put that on low to wilt, and then gravied the drippings (sherry, cream, touch of flour). And indulged in another Yorkshire Pudding, even though we only ate a quarter of it. Too big.

And reflected on the past year. And now am thinking seriously about going to sleep before midnight.

Saturday Conversations

Aedan: When I grow up, I'm going to marry a Floozy!
Emma: I'm going to marry a Prince.
Anne: Where did you hear the word 'floozy' Aedan?
Aedan: I don't know. I'm going to marry her and live happily ever after.
Matt: No, probably not happily.
Anne: No, Aedan, you need a good sturdy, even tempered girl. Not a floozy.
Emma: I'm going to marry a prince, a prince, a prince.

Sorry! AND Thank You!

Sorry I've fallen off the blog cliff the last few weeks, and Thank You for continuing to check back all these days. It has been CRAZY, as I'm sure you can all imagine.

First of all, let me just say that the Christmas Pageant came off beautifully. The Best Yet. I missed the first part because I was running around in a panic behind scene trying to get Mary and Joseph to GO OUT, go out, go out, while they just stood there in a daze. But I managed to make it to the back in time to see Herod and the Kings and the rest. The music was Wonderful-THANK YOU Micah. I've heard all kinds of nice things about it. And, I will say, for the first time in Five Years, I get the point of Silent Night in the dark with candles with everybody crying. Never understood before, but you're right, it is very beautiful and worth the effort.

My homiletic remarks are in some file or other. I'll have to retrieve and post them at another moment. I'm also hoping someone took pictures because I didn't have time.

And then we all came home and next day ate not just an enormous goose, but a good sized duck as well, with Yorkshire pudding, peas, gravy and mashed potatoes, and then had spiced apple cake for dessert. Matt outdid himself on every level. We were also given a lot of things we don't deserve-like a large horse for Emma, with a saddle and everything (not real, heaven be thanked), and a little real functioning sewing machine, and a castle for Aedan and a wooden sword and shield and a helmet, and a riding scooping truck that makes noises that you can sit on for Rowan. I gave Gwendolyn a china tea set because, well, she'll need it some day. So, now we are exhausted and overstuffed and relieved that the festivities are basically over and we get get on with the bland functioning of day to day life, at least until Lent when the madness all begins again.

I did a chunk of time at the store today, checking people out with half price on all Christmas items. I was fascinated to watch people self censor, wishing me already a happy New Year, after a pause, rather, of course, than Merry Christmas, or even Happy Holidays. Which just proves to me that 'Happy Holidays' is a Complete replacement for Christmas. At Thanksgiving, everyone says, 'Happy Thanksgiving', and of course we're all allowed to say Happy New Year. Its bizarre. Almost wished a few people Happy Kwanzaa, even though they were clearly buying Christmas Items (wrapping paper, little 50% ceramic santas etc.) Anyway, it doesn't look like I'll have to work much longer, due to the enormous generosity of many people, and the fact that Matt knows how to count, whereas, when I was handling things, being unable to count got us in all kinds of hot water. Forthcoming, when I've thought it all through, are all the spiritual lessons I have learned about The World, Money, and The Buying of Many Things.

Meanwhile, I am in a glow of thankful gratitude. For one, I'm thankful for this blog, wherein I can spew all kinds of chatter and people get on and read and comment. Matt and I were recently discussing the joy of having a real 'online community'. I know its cheesy, but in these dark ecclesiastical times, when we war in the trenches, its easy to feel isolated from the far reaching and expanding body of Christ. For all its trouble and heartache, the Internet connection at my fingers is a source of connection and growth and spiritual care that I am very grateful for.

I am also vastly grateful for Matt. As I was running around the church on Christmas Eve, making sure everyone knew where to go and what to do and how to do it, Matt was following after me and giving opposite instructions, confusing everyone and causing mayhem and destruction (from my perspective). BUT, we were in it together, and when we realized what we both we're doing, we had a good solid laugh in the sacristy. AND, it was beautiful. We pulled it off. God pulled it off. For heaven's sake, he managed to be born in spite of us all, and live through childhood, and die for all our sins. From the depths of my soul, I Praise Him! Merry Christmas.

Stock, Bread, Life

Yesterday I spent a much needed day in the kitchen making an enormous vat of stock (hopefully enough to last about 6 months), bread and oatmeal cookies. The stock was really very good, I think. I had a couple of lamb bones as well as turkey and chicken carcasses and it was a beautiful golden color. And I expunged and cleaned the fridge. Its nourishingly satisfying to spend a whole day in the kitchen, without a dreaded holiday to make it stressful.

And the baby has started to say 'goo' (such a cliche :)). This strikes me as remarkably early to me, showing her obvious and impressive intelligence. She's holding her head up so well, I let Emma hold her and walk up and down briefly.

And lately, as in the last two weeks, I've been working part time at The Christmas Tree Shop. I've been loath to bring it up online for fear of inciting pity and 'how on earth do you have time' comments (I don't know how I have time, maybe in retrospect I'll be able to see how it was all possible), but its been such an interesting thing to do, and, obviously, I've been spending a lot of time at it, that I don't want to keep it from the blog world. (I keep thinking I'll post about interesting topics, but I don't have time to think about things right now, so all you're going to get is what's going on).

So, my first and only observation for this evening (because I'm, frankly, tired, and about to eat a nicely roasted potato and go to bed), is that Christmas is rotten without Jesus. I found myself praying for people as they went through my line. Overall people looked stressed out, tired, sometimes angry, definitely not happy, buying cart fulls of stuff in a desperate way to give away. And they have to be sure and hang on to their receipts so that the gift that is given on Tuesday can be quickly returned on Wednesday. As the days get closer to Christmas, people get more desperate and less happy about shopping.

Its a starkly dark and unhappy contrast to church, where things are somber but exciting. My Christmas preparations have been all about the Christmas pageant and writing out Advent prophecy cards for the atrium, and singing O Come O Come Emmanuel with my children. I haven't even been shopping.

But it's into this dark, this despair, this desperation that Jesus came. So interesting to be working in a shop that bears the name of this event, 'Christmas', full of people who have never heard of him. It actually makes me rather excited to be there, spiritually, and I'm afraid of accidentally proselytising :) and loosing my job. But I now have a whole new realm of people to pray for that I didn't know about and I'm glad to be there, and sell people a lot of stuff they don't need, and pray that they'll think better of it over night and bring it back.

scattered already

Missed celebrating St. Nicholas Day on the 6th. Thank heavens the kids have no idea what the date is. Had them pu their shoes out last night since St. Nicholas will be joining us in church this morning. Then woke up in a panic about having to fill their shoes. And, blast it all, it appears I have caught Matt's wretched cold.
Onwards and upwards!
Onwards and upwards!

Friday Hodge Podge

A big shout out to Nigel Mumford of the Diocese of Albany for coming to Good Shepherd last night to do a healing service. A good time was had by all. Many went forward for prayer and healing and someone was moved to leave their cigarettes and lighter on the altar-very cool. I have a sketchy perception of the whole evening because I was wild and crazy enough to take all the kids and try to make them sit through the service. Eventually all the boys ended up downstairs making hash of the nursery. But it was nice to be there, nonetheless. I took little baby forward for healing prayers for this wretched cough she continues to have. So that was very lovely. And, joy of all joys, the Shepherd's Bowl (Good Shepherd's Soup Kitchen) was dishing out Beef Stew and I managed to finagle a bowl. You can see how scattered it all is in my mind-stew, healing all on the same level.

So now we've all had too much french toast and are about the brave the weather for a trip to AC Moore to have our imaginations sparked on the subject of Christmas Presents.

Also, the benefits and necessity of acquiring a Slow Cooker (and the means to do so) have been impressed upon me (thank you Grandma!) and I would very much like any advice and thoughts on brands, size, and any other details there abiding.

I better get moving. A has just informed me that his 'tummy hurts' and that 'its getting boring when my tummy hurts' but that 'when I go out in the snow it doesn't hurt'. He is furthering this information along with a big whine, so that means my time on the computer has come to an end. Good day to you all.

Various Thoughts on Consumerism around the 'Holiday Season'

I am not doing vast amounts of Christmas Shopping this year. I don’t have time nor money to go rushing out buying for all the various and sundry people I know. For those very special people who require attention, we’re making some small tokens of our love and affection. Not having grown up in America, I’ve never been caught into the mania of Christmas Shopping because I never had anywhere to shop, besides the Sikasso or Bamako Market. I have recently, however, been able to observe the American at Shops and am curiously impressed. First of all, the Owners of Shops know what they are doing—The arrangement of items to their logical conclusion (lamps in the home section, light bulbs at the end of the row, extra power cords in a bin within arms reach), the changing over of merchandise during the night so that customers learn to Buy Now, because it will be gone tomorrow, teaching the consumer not to think before buying, the far ranging assortment of glittery And practical stuff at little cost, so that when you walk by, you think, Oh, I need that, its so pretty (when in fact you Don’t Need it). All this says to me that the consumer has been considered, carefully, and analyzed (well, of course, I knew that, it’s just very interesting to experience it first hand.) And it’s very interesting to observe that the present problem with products made in China (so many of them having lead in them) is not enough to actually prevent their being bought. I would say it’s near to an addiction, the Need for China to make us stuff that we can buy, especially around Christmas. We Need this stuff even if we know its bad for us (Spiritually or because it’s packed full of lead). And I don’t think there’s an economic differentiation for this Need—rich and poor are prepared to buy alike. These are just some small observations of the season.

Not enough time

I don't have time to think it through, and I really ought not be blogging as I have somewhere to be, BUT, I've been, when I have a moment, following the story of the British School Teacher in the Sudan who was so foolish as to allow her class to name a Teddy Bear Mohammed. She was thereafter arrested and was in real fear for her life as a mob outside was crying for her execution. I'd been reading in prayerful horror over the last few weeks or days or whatever that she was held, and very relieved to hear on the radio yesterday that she'd been allowed to go home back to England, and that she would be spending a very quiet Christmas holiday at home. I can't put proper words to it, but this is one of those small by the wayside lavalike events like a small earthquake or something. You just feel a little shaking and think, oh, that was interesting. The world is not materially changed. But all the while underneath the surface, the plates are moving and scraping and grating against each other. The growing interaction between Islam and the West, feels in the bones, like one such seismically defined conflict. The outrage of the culture around her completely surprised this poor British woman. I don't really even understand it, at least not emotionally. We are diametrically opposed on so many levels.
Blast it all, I don't have time to think this through.
Comment, or something :)

First Sunday of Advent

We woke up this morning to the beautiful and gently falling Sunday attendance killer-snow. It was so white and pristine and silent, as I looked out the window and reevaluated my Sunday School and Christmas Pageant Practice Plans. There's something calmingly restful about looking out towards a Sunday when Everyone will have an excuse to stay home. You go in prepared to be thankful if Anyone comes, and its always best to start out a Sunday thankful. And of course, it took ages to get out the door. Boots and coats on three kids, the fabulous warm fluffy bunny thing on the baby, trying on 6 sweaters (me, I was trying on all the sweaters), warming up the car, getting the snow off it, running back in for the jump drive and then back in for an Album page and then back in for a mug of tea. All the time knowing that we can be late because until we get there and start shoveling, no one can get in the parking lot anyway, heh. But then, Amazingly, people came, lots in fact. Enough for a whole Sunday School class, all cozied up in the atrium with our one purple candle lit. We chucked the lesson and talked about the end of the world and when Jesus will come back and what it will be like and how the earth will be undone. So now we're going to sing O Come O Come Emmanuel and all go to bed, because its cold out and we've already had our hot chocolateses. Good Night.

Not Inspired of Myself

"His thoughts said, I am ashamed because of my poverty of love and my interrupted obedience.
His Father said, I know it all. I know thee as thou art and yet I love thee.
His thoughts said, I often pray to be delivered from slothfulness that all the spaces of my time may be fruitfully filled by Thee; and yet the spaces seem to me quite empty, and the little that is done is so imperfectly done that I am ashamed.
His Father said, Commit thine empty spaces to Me, and let thy trust be in the tender mercy of thy God for ever and ever. I will perfect thine imperfections."
-Amy Carmichael
His thoughts said...His Father said...

A Caring and Compassionate Micah. Meant to post this a few weeks ago but entirely forgot. Votes on the side burns (is that what they're called?) or maybe chops. Halloween is over, maybe we should move on.

A Carnival!

I am totally remiss in putting this up sooner, especially since its past the deadline to enter (unless you can butter up At a Hen's Pace). Here is what it's all about.

Contrary Expectation: A Celebration of Advent

Advent is arguably my favorite time of year. I always enjoy Christmas and even Easter and Lent in a too busy distracted kind of way (although I really don’t like the inevitable let down after a major feast, like Christmas, which is always more intense if the feast was especially wonderful), but Advent is best. There are three reasons for this. The first is that it gets dark early and so lighting candles in the evening with the children is fun, because it’s dark enough to see them. Second, I love the hymns, love them far better than Christmas Carols. Third, I love Advent because I am contrary and ornery in my soul. While the whole world is rushing out to buy ipods and nanoos (oh wait, that’s the same thing) and x box players and getting crushed trying to beat their way into store after store and listening (oh horror in my soul) to Christmas Carols for a whole wretched month, I retreat into the solitary beauty of sorrow over sin, longing and desire for the parousia, quiet lighting of one candle and then another candle and then another.

So we do have some small Advent Traditions. The first, of course, is the Advent Wreath. I have a wooden bowl/plate thing on which I put three purple candles, one pink and one white. This year the Advent Wreath Routine will be in the morning rather than the evening because we have been having a morning Bible Story with the children plus songs and the Lord’s Prayer. And we’ll sing ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel’ probably every morning so the kiddos can learn it.

Then, in the evenings, we’ll open the Advent Calendar which this year is in the form of a lot of little books, some sacred, some secular, all alluring because they’re all so little and everybody wants to touch them and read them and wreck them. They might go on the tree eventually, but I might rather keep them safe in the box so we can use them next year.

Third is the feast and celebration of St. Nicholas. I am fussy about this because it’s a nostalgic moment for me. I always had a pair of clogs growing up and my carrot and turnip and parsnip would be shoved in them. Clogs are really especially nice for St. Nicholas. My kids are too American already to have clogs (I mean, where would I even get a good pair of Danish clogs for a child in Binghamton? Really, if anyone knows, please email) and so we’ve actually put out boots the last couple of years. And because I really don’t like parsnips for eating and haven’t been organized to go buy them just for the shoes, we’ve put in carrots and potatoes. And then, when they wake up, they find a perfectly round orange, a chocolate St. Nicholas and a small present. It’s so exciting and special. And then, of course, St. Nicholas visits everyone in church, arriving with gold chocolate coins and oranges and wearing a fancy bishop’s hat and cope. He knocks on the door to the altar and then comes out crying for all the children to come and greet him. Every year I’m surprised by the number of even older children who think he really is St. Nicholas.

Fourth, our lives are inextricably wound up in the church, so for me, part of Advent is the intense and sometimes stressful preparations for the Christmas Pageant on Christmas Eve. The pageant has grown to include the Annunciation, Visitation, Holy Innocents, Kings, Shepherds, Everything. Because we did so much work last year, it’s basically ticking along beautifully this year. I am particularly charmed because we have a long thin King Herod, three enormous adult Kings and then Aedan will be Herod’s Guard (a tiny tiny guard) because he refused to be a sheep. We also have a lot of baby lambs this year that will have to be carried by the Shepherds. It should be wonderful.

Fifth, my own private celebration of Advent has come to include the making of materials for the Atrium. This week I’m going to start work on the Level Two Prophecy Prayer Cards as well as the Flight into Egypt. The making of materials has come to be a restful moment of devotion and focus in a month that can be garish, busy and stressful.

And finally, Matt and I spend a whole day making some sort of food as our Christmas presents to everyone (I’m sorry, I don’t have the money or inclination to shop, so if you don’t like chocolate or cookies or sweets, you won’t like what I’m giving you this year). Two years ago we made chocolate truffles, and the year before that, jars of lemon curd, and the year before that, Nigella’s Chocolate Loaf Cake.

Somewhere towards the last Sunday of Advent we’ll get a tree and decorate the house. But again, I love the plain sorrowfully quiet tone of Advent in a house undecorated for Christmas until the last moment. Then you put it all up, and immediately tare it all down.

Several weeks ago I explained Advent and all its charms to my unchurched Jr. High Sunday School class. They were appalled at the idea, as well they should be. Its shocking that God would take on Flesh and come be with us, rebellious and sinful as we are. That he would go through the pain and unpleasantness of being born. That he would spend years trying to communicate with our small minds. And then that he would die. Four weeks is not too long to wait in silence and hope for him to come back in glory. I’m frankly excited about it all. Happy Advent!

I just came across this gem on Drudge,

Most young girls dream of marriage and babies. But Sarah dreamed of helping the environment - and as she agonised over the perils of climate change, the loss of animal species and destruction of wilderness, she came to the extraordinary decision never to have a child. "I realised then that a baby would pollute the planet - and that never having a child was the most environmentally friendly thing I could do."

I would say, yes! absolutely! By all means Don't Have Children if you're going to have this kind of attitude about them. Of course, the attitude is completely false, and, I would say, arrogant.

Prep Day

I continue to be amazed that Matt didn't cook one tiny iota when we got married. When I cooked for him the first time, in those romantic courting days, he was unflatteringly skeptical about the idea. But I managed to impress him enough so that when I was pregnant the first time, and couldn't go near the kitchen for nausea, he took up the enterprise himself and now does fully half if not three quarters of all the family cooking. This is very good for us all because he's very good at it. The more he has devoted himself to food and the cooking thereof, the happier I have become as a person. Thanksgiving is his high holy day of cooking, and Wednesday is always spent prepping.

So today I made pie crust with the kids, pumpkin pie filling (roasting the pumpkin, pureeing it myself and adding cream, eggs, sugar and spices), and Brioche dough to be baked up for breakfast. And Matt minced onion, celery, sage, garlic, parsley and other fresh herbs. He also brined the turkey, and began the base for his gravy tomorrow. He has lately been devoting himself to perfect gravy. (I am torn in my praise of this gravy. If I say it is perfect, he may move on to something else, meaning less gravy. On the other hand, I can't lie.)

Tomorrow, after Brioche, the menu, as it looks now, is very traditional.
Turkey, stuffing, mashed potato, asparagus, brussle sprouts, gravy and biscuits. And then apple and pumpkin pie. We thought about fussing around with cranberry, but we only ever do it for looks, not for actual eating, so we decided not to bother. And we'll also be making hand turkeys out of construction paper, and Indian hats (whether or not this is politically incorrect, I don't know, I'm sure someone will tell me), and the children will dance, because that's what they do on thanksgiving.

Oh, and providentially, our Bible story reading for tomorrow just happens to be all the Israelites dying in the wilderness for whining and being ungrateful. So that will be nice. I look forward to it all very much and am perfectly prepared to be thankful All Day.

My sermon for the Southside Ecumenical Service Tonight

I have always loved the road outside the house where I grew up. My house is just off the road
with a row of thorn trees in front. The drive sort of forks off and there is a path running from our house across the road to the neighbor. The road itself is dirt, not the red cake like dirt of the other side of the stream, but fine white soft sand. Over the months and days the worn easy places of the road change depending on the rain and traffic. A considering person will be careful
to walk on the smooth places, and pay attention to how the road changes over time. By walking it every day, the road becomes familiar even as it changes, so that even in the dark, you know where to walk.

It’s hard, I think, driving everywhere, or even walking on paved roads to visualize walking in a spiritual sense. Here, if you walk from Giant over to La Tazza, you have to look up and out, not down at your feet, so as to avoid cars, rather than stones. But more than likely it would be easier to drive the distance, faster.

It’s no mistake that Paul uses the word ‘walk’. ‘Walk’ not as unwise but as wise. He is talking to those of you who are already on the road, already walking towards God, away from the world,
away from yourself. The road stretches on ahead of you. There are two ways to walk. You can walk wisely, carefully, considering the road, the destination, your situation. Or, you can walk unwisely, carelessly, without attention.

How do you know the difference?

Well, first you have to make sure you are on the road and not wandering off on some path that peters out. Do you know Jesus? Do you love him? Do you trust him to save you from your sins?
Or are you relying on yourself and your own goodness? Relying on yourself is foolishness. Don’t be foolish, don’t continue walking on the wrong road. Get off that road and walk toward Jesus.

But if you’re already on the road, you love Jesus, he is transforming you day by day into his image, he has saved you and made you whole, then, to know if you are walking wisely you must be able to understand what the will of God is. Do you know why he made you? To worship him?
Do you know what your purpose is? To go out into the world and tell people about Jesus and how much he loves them. To listen to his voice and do the work he gives you. Do you pray every day and read the scriptures to know his will, day by day, step by step? If you don’t know his will, you won’t walk wisely.

But then, understanding the will of God, do you allow yourself to be distracted, to be filled up with other things, the things of this world, like wine, or worry, or busyness, or gossip, or anxiety, or a grudge, or envy, rather than to be filled up with the spirit. You can be on the road but not walking carefully in smooth careful watchfulness of God. Don’t walk that way. That is foolish.

How do you fix it?
Paul says, be thankful.
Now, I know its possible to go through this whole week, this week of Thanksgiving, and say thank you a lot, to other people and to God, with your lips, but not have time for it to be translated into your heart and mind. But if you cannot see God any more, and you do not know his will, and you are filled up with many other things, than you are not walking in wisdom.

Walking on this road in wisdom, means walking on this road in thankfulness.

Stop and put yourself into the place of Thanksgiving. You don’t have to feel thankful. You have to stop and bend your will, your mind, your feet towards God and thank him.
If you don’t know where to begin, start by thanking him for your existence.
Without him and his desire for you, you wouldn’t have been born.
Thank him for his preservation of you and provision for you.
Thank him for his salvation—in sending his son to die in your place so that you might live with him forever.
Thank him for the Holy Spirit who sanctifies and guides you.

The way of wisdom, the road toward Jesus is gratitude, is thankfulness.
Walk in it.

late again!

We DIDN’T Forget, we kept trying to get to the computer, but it kept getting away from us. Here is the book Emma wrote and illustrated in your honor. The pictures did not photograph well but here is the text. Each line is actually a page. We are considering mailing it, however, it might be that E will insist on doing another one to mail, being somewhat of a perfectionist.

Book by E

I like flowers.
I saw a moose print.
Those are berries.
I saw a different moose print than before.
I love you.
I saw a different canoe.
Then I saw a better canoe than I saw before.
This is a drink.
That’s not a horn.
That’s not a cross or an ‘x’.
That’s not a bird.
I don’t like that glove.
I saw a whale.
Two boxes.
That’s a shark.
That’s scribbling.
A tooth is gone.
We are all together with the sun, the grass, and the sky.
Clouds you like.
I love Gwendolyn.
That’s a school.
A scribble.
We flew.
We love you.

a little more preachy

Listened to this today.
Really. Excellent. Check it out.

a little preachy

I’ve been feeling frankly euphoric about having four children all day. These moments, as you can imagine, are few in the day. If I do have them I don’t generally have time to notice because there’s so much to do. But I was in the car a fair bit this morning and again this afternoon and I had time to consider how great it is to have so many kids, and how completely impoverished I would be with, say, only three, or only two, or only one, or none at all.

I’d be, first of all, very poor in experience. It’s taken 3 babies to figure it out. Nursing alone is something I only just now feel I have the hang of. And knowing the capacity of a child, say, to not whine if you tell them not to; I didn’t know that with the first, or even the second child. Now, on the third, we finally have the whining under control. Or the difference between boys and girls from birth. Being so rich as to have two of each, I am gaining wisdom and understanding in the differences between men and women, boys and girls, on a more basic and deeper level.

Second, I’d be poor in time. My days have become vastly richer and more varied with each baby. Its especially nice to have a baby at each stage doing different things, all day long, so that at every moment there’s a whole tapestry of play and conversation and activity. Also, I get more done, so my time is overall better spent and less wasted.

Third, I’d be poor in understanding. As I’ve known all my life with my head (because my dad said it over and over) ‘you can do it if you have to’, I now know with my body and soul. There isn’t anything that can’t be done, if God tells you to and gives you grace. So now, when people say, ‘Oh, I could never do that’ when they see my four kids, I can say ‘Oh, you probably could, if you had to.’

But mostly I’d be poor in love. And I don’t mean all ooshy gooshy I’m so in love with my kids they can’t do anything wrong. I mean that God expands the human faculty of love as needed. If there are a lot of people around who need it, God gives you the ability to act in self giving/selfless love towards them for their good, regardless of your own needs. He meets your needs and gives you sufficiently of himself to meet theirs. This, I am experiencing daily, even in my own flesh, is so crucial if you want to be rich in God. You cannot say no to him. If he says, do such and such, you cannot say no, or you become poor. You become lean. You become narrow. Or, as my mother has so helpfully pointed out, you develop ‘good boundaries’ (usually at the expense of other people).

All this I saw and felt as I drove all over town today, thinking about this new baby. The nurse when I checked into labor and delivery, hearing she was our fourth, said ‘Oh, I have an oops baby too’ it’s great. And it is. It’s actually the best.

Health and Happiness

E is definitely feeling better. I now have a dinning room table covered in paint, an elaborate train track taking up the whole hall way, a sea of crayons and paper in the living room, and a soaked bathroom from the bath currently going on. Its going to take me a whole day to recover and then she'll be home because its Saturday. And her cat, Francis, is staring at me fixedly in a murderous sort of way, like if she were a lot bigger, I'd be a snack.

And, just to rub it in, before throwing up on me this morning, the baby slept through the night AGAIN, that's right, again. Ha!

Meat Loaf

I was actually thinking about making meat loaf. I'm not sure why, maybe because its starting to be cold out. I'm not even sure that I've ever even eaten meat loaf. Anyway, I'm looking for advice. Is this a worthwhile endeavor? And if so, can anyone recommend a good recipe? And also, what would one eat it with?

Shameless Posting About My Children

I get really irritated when my favorite bloggers don't post ever day, or worse, take a whole week off from blogging. In that same spirit, I offer my deep regrets for taking almost a whole week off from posting. Thing is, I preached Sunday after not preaching in a long time, and I kept meaning to post my sermon, but then I added and adjusted so much as I was actually speaking, that I decided to bring it home and fix it, but then someone walked off with it during coffee hour, and Lord knows where it is now. So, of course, then I meant to try and fix it from memory, but that hasn't happened either. Anyway, I think it was a perfectly fine sermon, and maybe someday you'll get to read it.

Also, just as we were all getting over a vile cold, E caught some throwing up bug. She's been home from school for two days and will stay home again tomorrow to get some more rest, by which time I'm sure someone else will be throwing up often without prior warning. The fall/winter season is definitely here.

But we've been having a good time nonetheless. For example, E informed us this evening that God can make people sick, but he can't heal them. 'Well', she amended her statement, 'he can but he lets doctors do it.' She has heard about the Israelites getting sick in the desert for complaining and it has made a big impression on her (being sick and all). She organized tea for us this afternoon-a lot of plates carefully arranged on the coffee table, three empty (not sure why), one with 4 grapes on it, one with 6 tiny biscuits smeared with jam, peanut butter and nuttela, one full of cookies. She took the plate of grapes around carefully to ask if we'd like more. Very hospitable. But then she made us sing 'Now the Day is Over' and 'The Lord told Noah to build him an Arky Arky' and afterwards told a long and complicated 'Bible' story holding a copy of Mansfield Park instead of a Bible. Then she got really bossy and tried to make us all take a rest, which I refused to do and everything broke into chaos. She really misses school. But I've been happy to have her home for a couple of days. We miss her when she's not here.

And A's powers of reason are becoming more sophisticated. The kiddos are not allowed to say they don't like whatever they've been given to eat at the table. So tonight, careful not to say that he didn't like it, he explained, very carefully, that the chicken in front of him was made from milk, 'the kind of milk that I don't like'. Very clever, I thought.

And the baby smiled yesterday, after giving it obvious and crucial thought. Plus she slept through the night one time, which was amazing. I've never experienced such a thing, with babies. Imagine, sleeping through the night instead of eating every hour.

And R is his own solid self, agreeably wandering around the house muttering 'yes' to himself quietly. Its his favorite word, although 'cake' comes a close second.

So, you see, I've been covered in children, and not even reading anything online. And its been, frankly, refreshing. Let the Anglican World wreck itself, it doesn't need me reading about it to make anything different.

Butternut Squash Soup

I, frankly, outdid myself tonight on the subject of Supper.

Butternut Squash Soup
I roasted the squash, and then scooped it out into my pan, added probably four cups of chicken stock, salt, pepper, curry powder, ginger powder and cream and, when it came a simmer, went at it seriously with my (well, Matt's really) super cool immersion blender. Creamy, golden orange, I believe Matt used the word 'heavenly'.

Along with miniature biscuits done with an irritating flower cut out. But so puffy. So perfect.

And then tomato and egg (mommy, what's its proper name?) salad avec vinaigrette. And an avocado at perfect ripeness.

I must say, the soup was probably the easiest thing I've ever cooked. It took about 3 minutes of actual cook time-cutting the squash open (I made Matt do it), hunting around for curry and ginger powder, blending it, that's it. Well, and putting everything in the pan. We're going to eat the rest with couscous and then do it again the day before Thanksgiving, that most holy day of eating. Oh, and if you try the soup, it starts out smooth and then the ginger and curry kick in with an interesting bite. Very worth it.

Inheritance

Matt discovered, to our amazement, by staring fixedly at the baby for some time, that she really looks, really really looks like...my dad (Dr. Robert Carlson). I thought it would be so unfortunate for a girl to have to be the spittin image of her father, image having to be a combination of one's father and maternal grand father. Plus she really does look like R.

by them is your servant warned

I’ve been going back and back and back again to Psalm 19 lately. It’s always been one of my favorites, particularly since being in boarding school and hearing some of my school mates when their parents came to visit—a CRWM family from Mali—sing the second part (verse 7 on) of it all together beautifully. But also because it’s a perfect summation of the Christian Life and what produces real happiness and joy. The psalm articulates the liveliness of the Law, the dynamism that it produces in daily life when one tries not only to walk in it, but to integrate it into one’s interior essential being.

But I hadn’t paid particular careful attention to the first half—the declaring speech of the cosmos and earth concerning the greatness of God. There is actually interesting movement—the heavens, the sky, the sun declare the perfection of the Law, after which and out of which flows man’s response.

There is all kinds of richness here, besides the dripping of honey.

First of all, we’ve been teaching our kiddos the 10 Commandments with the use of the old 70s ‘I’d like to teach the world to sing’. I don’t know the words to the real thing (heh) but we hit upon it because it used to be one of the tunes I, along with everyone else, had to sing ‘Amazing Grace’ to in Boarding School (along with Ghost Riders in the Sky, In the Jungle, and Gilligan’s Island). With a little tweaking, we managed to make all the commandments fit in plain language, and now we sing it almost every morning (their choice, not ours) and sometimes again in the evening. Their learning of the content of the law concurrently with a love of Jesus was my aim and its delightful to see it happening.

Second of all, psalm 19 has, over time, very much informed my emotional sense of obedience to God, and my overall desire to know God through the Scriptures. Because, let’s face it, the easy way is not obedience or even knowledge of God. The easy way is strict slavish adherence to one’s own passions and desires. To first of all know the Law and then to find it sure, right, pure, clean, true and golden, that takes a life time of work.

As I write this, I am most painfully aware that this sets me entirely outside the worldview of most of the west, actually. I frequently delude myself into thinking myself in the majority by reading people I agree with and avoiding everything else. But this is not the case. The west has become obsessively self centered. The Law of the Lord, perfect or not, is not known nor sought. Even the church has bought into the boring madness of self gratification. Only its called ‘self actualization’ or ‘becoming one’s best self’ or even, ‘living into the baptismal covenant’. And its why the Anglican World is breaking apart.

I will probably come back to this later. At the moment I’ve just made myself mad and I have to feed the baby.

Scattered Saturday Thoughts from E and A

E, on the way out of a store where she and I had been browsing together on our own: 'All those things in there, that's what made it so wonderful.' (relish and emphasis on the 'wonderful')

E praying in the evening after hearing the story of Abraham, Sarah and Isaac (a favorite):
'Dear Jesus, thank you for Isaac and his family and how long he lived and that he he was a nice baby but grew up and lived a long time and for his mommy and daddy.'

A, gazing at the sun even after being told not to: 'Mommy mommy mommy mommy, you know what there is behind the sun? A SQUARE. And it has lines and its behind the sun.'

A, much later, gazing at G: 'She's so beautiful, and pretty.'
E (whispering in my ear): 'She looks like a boy.'
Me (whispering back): 'No she doesn't. She's covered in pink.'
A: 'I love her.'

Lest you think we are all peace and joy, they then got into a heated argument about how much big furry blanket they each had and who was going to have which song. Finally settled on 'Now the Day is Over' for E and 'I head the Voice of Jesus Say' for A.

And now its 5:30 Sunday morning and everyone is Wide Awake because of the time change. So I am going to roust myself out of bed and begin collecting things for Sunday. I'm even contemplating shoving myself into a collar, would be the first time in months. Its not conducive for baby feeding, but, frankly, I don't have much else that's interesting, and I do have a fancy wine colored velvet jacket, and, as you know, its so much easier to worship God in a fabulous outfit than not.

Happy Belated Reformation Day

So we had a reasonably good time on Wednesday.
It was balmy-windy and warm-and there were lots of little kids running top speed from house to house. We got to meet several neighbors hitherto unmet. Everybody wanted to see the baby. I'd been walking the block for months pregnant so I guess it was only fair.

The highlight of the day, though, was accidentally wishing our very good friends/neighbors a Happy Reformation Day-such a fun thing to wish Roman Catholics. K- wanted to know what 'the reformation' was. Periodically I help her fill out her Confirmation Class worksheets. Told her and her brother in great detail and then asked if they would be dressing up for All Saints. T- couldn't remember what that one was either.
'What do you do in church?' I asked him.
'Go in the cry room' he said, 'the sermon is so boring.
Told him he should be glad he can go in the cry room. 'I sit with our teenagers during the sermon and make them take notes.'
He was aghast. All this time our Jewish neighbor was pondering. Finally she asked if the sermon was all in English. 'Oh yes,' I said, 'All in English, but its very long. At least 20 minutes.'
'My class has to lead the service this week' she said, but she wouldn't say any more. Then I asked them all if they remembered anything for Religious Ed. L- remembered the Shema in Hebrew but didn't know what it meant (Emma told her), and T- remembered that there is someone named St. Paul but didn't know why he was a Saint. 'Wasn't he an apostle?' he asked.
'Yes,' I said, 'but do you know what an apostle is?'
T- thought maybe it was Jesus. Laughed heartily and then told him. Invited them all to church.

I enjoy these conversations with our young neighbors. Its so interesting to see what the average person is getting out of church (any church). And I'm impressed that they're interested. I wish their clergy/pastors would tap into this interest. But of course, K- and T- are not voicing this interest when they are in church.

Anyway, we are launching into the weekend. Micah is here (the official sign that CHURCH will be happening). He is arguing with Matt, well, its sounds like Micah is arguing and Matt is laughing at him. I am going to vacuum the house and muscle the extra bed out of the nursery into the basement. And I'm hoping Matt will cook something fabulous for supper. I bought chicken on purpose for him to do so.

OH! and a big shout out to Bishop Duncan for an AWSOME comeback.

notes

I've just turned on that word verification thingy because I'm getting comment spam. Sorry about the extra hassle.

I've got to get up and madly clean because all three kiddos are sleeping (E is at school), and who knows how long it will last, so I've got to seriously get moving. I have exactly one hour before the next visitor. So much to do, don't even know where to start.

Traveling Mercies

If you have a moment, pray for my mom who is currently in the air, traveling back to Nairobi via JFK, Frankfurt and Amsterdam. She is set to arrive Friday morning and we are all awaiting the good news that she is there safely and soundly. In the meantime we are all in grief that she is gone. We had Such a Good Time while she was here and will miss her very much.