Mountains and Molehills

This is my boy with his new pride and joy: a Pirate Nutcracker. I can't even tell you how much he loves this silly little thing that I found for $3.99 at Michaels. Landon loves anything with a sword, but in our house this year, nutcrackers are all the rage. So imagine my thrill to find a cheap nutcracker with a sword!?

So anyways, of course he wanted to play with it. I of course, explained that it wasn't a toy and more of a decoration. If he wanted to play with it he would have to be very careful.

Right. It lasted all of 5 minutes before he tripped with it and broke the sword right off.

We glued it and told him he couldn't play with it anymore and that it was just a decoration.
He cried.
We tried to explain it again.
He cried.
*sigh
"Ok Landon. You can play with it gently."
"Ok Mama. I will be g e n t l e.
*looking very serious with the slow head nod for the word "gentle".

This time it lasted about 10 minutes before the sword broke off again.
And now it's bedtime. And guess who wants to sleep with the silly thing. We have tears and all kinds of discussions about sleeping with wooden objects with sharp corners and wet wood glue. We finally just gave him a choice: it went downstairs or on his side table.
*side note to parents: choices are you and your child's BEST FRIENDS.

Next day: We make it half way through the morning when he remembers about it. Almost immediately the sword comes off. I got away with letting it "dry" all day. And by the evening when he began asking for it again and I was trying to talk him out of it, I realized just how silly we were being about it.

"Landon, whose nutcracker is it?" I asked him.
"Mine", he said.
"Right. So you know what - you should be able to enjoy it. I want you to LOVE it and play with it and use it."
Big smile spreads across his face, his eyes light up. That makes me smile (isn't that the point of me buying it in the first place??)
"I'm sorry buddy for not letting you have your own toy. Do you forgive me?"

I clarified with him that he didn't care that the sword was broken. Surprisingly, he didn't. He just wanted his very own "doll" to play and pretend with.

He's still not allowed to sleep with it, but he's definately allowed - encouraged even - to play with it and enjoy it. And if it ends up with 1 arm, a cracked skull and a broken nose, well he will either love it to literal bits and have enjoyed every second of it's little nutty life, or have learned a valuable lesson about breakable objects and that decorations don't make great toys.

Or do they?

Mountains or Molehills.
That's our choice as parents.
That's often our choice as humans in life and relationships for that matter.

Some things are mountains.
Some things feel like mountains.
Some things, if we can gain a little perspective are really just molehills.

If you've had any mountain vs molehill experiences, I'd love to hear about them!
:)

Going Into The Pit

Before all of this happened last week, I had already been really pondering a lot about this illusion of control that we have.

While we sure do have what feels like a lot of it- the things which we can't control are just so enormous it begins to feel like we have none.

I know that this isn't like we have a child with cancer or something. But thinking that something is causing this in her - and what that could be - well, that's just the thing, you know? The fear of the unknown is oh so paralyzing.

When I first found out on Thursday, I had to be somewhere after the appointment. I parked at my friend, Nicole's. When I went to pick the car up she lovingly invited me in and we cried together, prayed together, and shared some of the realities of our hearts.

I confessed that I just couldn't keep myself from visiting the worst of the worst places in my mind. Rather than tell me to 'stay positive' or tell me that 'the power of life and death is in the tongue' she encouraged me to "go to The Pit".

When her son, Andrew was born with no blood and things weren't hopeful (medically speaking), it was The Pit where she faced her worst fears. It's also when she felt she had been able to be real with her emotions and then find space to say, "God, I trust you."

That night, as I laid beside and talked with my best friend, through sobs I explained how going there - to the worst of the worst - was showing me how little I really trust God with our children. It's easy to say, "God, our kids are yours and we trust you with them", and "God, do what you want with our family". But did I mean it?

Going through this was allowing me to search every corner of my soul to find faith. Do I really believe that God is good? Is God love?
And what if...
what if....
what if.

The Pit, for me, became a place where I was finding true relationship with my Creator. There I am completely naked and transparent. It's there that I visit my darkest place and make the choice to throw my hands up in surrender - to trust, to hope.

If I needed a test to see where I was on the faith scale, this was sure it.

I am already grateful for it. I obviously hope my 'pit days' will be fewer and further between, but I am thankful for this experience. The hard times are what make or break us. The hard times require me to realize how very little control I have and to live in the moments - a step at a time.

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps
Proverbs 16:9

We Walk By Faith, Not By Sight (pun intended)

Here is one thing I know now to be true: It's a good idea to figure out some things you believe about the 'ways of God' BEFORE you face a trial!

When you're in it is no time to be wrestling through who you believe God to be.

I realize that often in hard times people actually turn to God. I also know that sometimes people turn away from God.

A few weeks ago I began writing about "Good God" - it was a blog half-written on the iPad based on a recent conversation with my Hubby and a good friend.

Maybe I will dig it up and post it, but I clearly remember saying that if we can actually, truly believe that God is good, and that God is love, then whatever comes our way in life - if we can anchor to that, even if the storm is raging and boat is rocking - we can trust Him to care for us. That means, even if things aren't playing out the way that we think a loving God who has our best interest in mind would have them go, that if we have resolved Him to be trustworthy then that will keep us together at the seams.

So the prayer of faith is not, "God heal this illness" or "God I believe you can and will solve this problem". No, I am finding that the true prayer of faith maybe goes something like this:

"Father, I don't know what the heck you're doing or allowing. But I KNOW that you are good. I KNOW that you are love. And I KNOW that you care about this. And I choose to trust you. Help me with my unbelief. Help me when I don't trust you. Carry me when I can't walk. Help me breath when I forget to. Do your thing. Whatever happens, you are with me and this isn't the end."

And then you step.

One foot.

Then the next.

And if we forget how to walk



Slip your hand into his. He'll not just lead you, He will care for you.

Un-NERVing...

Instead of writing everyone individually, I thought I would just write an update here about our new journey with Larissa.

Nathan and I took our sweetie back to Dr. Coates today who wanted to do some further testing and have a colleague check her over as well.

She was, of course, amazingly co-operative and did a great job.

After all the testing and attempts to take a clear picture of her eye, the Doctor's words: "We're basically stumped on this one."

Dr. Coates said he's had several colleagues look at her scans and photographs and no one quite knows what is going on.

Typically, when it's a situation of a 'lazy eye' that isn't helped, the brain shuts down the eye that isn't working well and utilizes the good eye. It's pretty "smart thinking" on behalf of the brain! Lol

So, at first it looked like this was a possibility for Larissa. But it's really not the case. A LONG story really short is that the retina doesn't look good, she has some peripheral vision for light but zero central vision, and her optic nerve is small. This last observation seems to be the new focus.

It's difficult to get a scan or picture of her eye where they need it to be - but the best observation we can get looks like her right eye's optic nerve is a lot smaller - about half the width of the left's. That's a significant difference. These Optometrists say that because of this, the function of her eye is compromised (makes sense).

We have also discovered that though she functions at an extremely high level, she does have a prescription in her "good eye" (the left one). So she'll get some glasses soon I think. (I love kids in glasses!) This is really no shocker, as almost all of Nate's family wears glasses.

So now, off we go to the Specialist at Ivy. He thinks he can get us in there pretty quickly, and we are still hoping this is congenital, and not symptomatic.

How grateful we are to live in a country with such capable doctors, incredible technology, and the resources from the government to afford all this. Thanks for paying your taxes :)

We continue to have hope and take every day a step at a time.

Thanks for your prayers and support! It means the world to us.

The Scariest Day Of My Life

Yesterday: a pivotal point in my life. When my worst fears were realized and I saw my litmus test to the faith I attest to.

It was supposed to be a routine check-up at the optometrist. I was even on time! We were the first appointment, arriving at 8:30am.

Up hopped Olivia, first to go bravely into the big black chair. Proudly, she followed all of the Doctor's instructions and showed him how she knew her letters. Down she came, and up hopped Larissa.

"Take this and cover your eye here and read to me the letters you see in the mirror", he said. Searching for anything, she was unsuccessful to find something to focus on.

"Larissa hunny, up here", I snapped and waved in front of the mirror.

And forever engraved in my memory she said, "Mommy, you know that I can't see out of this eye. I've told you."

Stunned. Shocked. Nauseous. Terrified. Breathless. Dizzy.

My baby can't see, at all, out of her right eye. And I didn't even know it.

I sat there doing my best to stay calm and present cool with one babe-in-arms and two others watching me from their chairs for a reaction.

Like THAT every moment and memory was more precious and valuable.
Like THAT the reality that I live with an illusion of control hit me.
Like THAT I questioned God's love and goodness. Everything I have felt Him teaching me all year flashed before my eyes. I could make myself say it, but I wasn't sure I could truly believe it. What is faith? And do I have any?

Our Optometrist, Dr. Coates, was incredible. He made her his priority and pulled in another Doctor for a second opinion and ran all the tests that hew was able. She is being referred to a specialist and we saw our family doctor today.

For now, we can rule nothing out. But from what they can see, both doctors say that their best guess is that this is something she was born with.

Dr. Coates called me at home today to let me know that he was unable to get through to the specialist today but will try again Monday morning and that Larissa remains his top priority. He said there is definately retinal disruption, but it doesn't appear to be detached, which may give her a slight bit of hope at some level of recovery of sight in her eye. I made it clear that my BEST case scenario is that she never sees anything out of that eye. We only care that nothing else is causing this.

I could already write ten blogs about what I have learned in 30 hours. Finding alone time on my computer makes it difficult to do so, but I'm hoping to share it.

I have a lot more peace today. I'm going with that!

Wisdom From Obi-wan Kenobi

"Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on a certain point of view." - Obi-wan Kenobi

In the last couple of years I have been going through a major deconstructive process in my spiritual life (if that wasn't already obvious from reading my thoughts).

One major area of re-construction lately has been in the Bible - how we read it and what it is. Recent elections have highlighted for us how so many amazing, passionate, intelligent people can hold such varying degrees of opinion on what they feel would be the best way to run our country. The church and religion don't operate much differently. How can so many people feel so passionately that what they believe is right?

Now, take that a step further - as a Christian, in the Church, I look around and see so many "kinds" of Christians. There are many denominations. And within the denomination there are still many different kinds of Christians. In my church, for example, there are some who believe in infant baptism, while others don't find any purpose or "biblical evidence" for such a thing and prefer to dedicate their children. (Neither of which friends is "biblical". However, if you want my stance I'd be happy to share it with you).

Recently, someone completely attacked me for going out for Halloween because "the bible says that we should 'avoid every appearance of evil'. If that makes you defensive it's because you have a hard heart that is resisting conviction". Awesome. Attack me with the verses that you think are appropriate for winning your argument.

Is this what the bible has become to us? A law book to attack friends and neighbors with?

The problem, as far as I see it is that we have slowly, over time, placed the Bible right over top of Christ. We have become people of principle rather than people of relationship. We ask "What does the bible say? What Would Jesus Do? rather than asking "What is Jesus asking me to do in this situation?"
This causes great problems in our learning to become believers in this age.

The mistake we make in calling the bible the "word of God" is that we substitute a book for the person of the resurrected Christ. So lots of people are trying to follow principals derived from a book rather than for a book to open them to a relationship and then live inside that relationship.(And anyone who doesn't align to the way that the scripture is interpreted is out of line, a sinner, a heretic).

The book of Acts talks a lot about the Word of God spreading among the people. Was that the bible? Were they referring to little tracts? No, they weren't. They were referring to the living Christ, Jesus - he spread among them! When Hebrews 4 talks about the Word being living and active and sharper than a two-edged sword it is not talking about the bible (like I was taught my whole life to be the case). It's really the presence of Christ that divides between soul and spirit.

I am certainly not saying that I don't believe that God inspired the writers of the bible. I absolutely do. But I'm not worshiping the bible. And I'm not trying to live my life by a set of rules and principles anymore. I realize the for a really long time I've believed that the way that I have read and interpreted scripture has turned out to be very flawed and uneducated. For much of my mature Christian walk I have put following what I believed to be truth in the bible ahead of the Truth that is life in the Son. And boy, that sure changes my perspective!

"Generational Sin" and How We Read The Bible

I have often heard people talk about ‘generational sin’. This is also a topic of which whole courses are based on and offered in churches around the world. The foundational verse for this is found in the book of Exodus in the bible and says, “God will visit the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth generation”.

Ok. I kinda-sorta bought it for a little while. Mostly only when christians that I love spoke about it as a ‘Biblical Truth’. But I have been thinking a lot about how we read the bible, and how some of the conclusions that the church has reached are way off. This is one of those things that I am not sure I buy into anymore. Why? Because first, God was talking to Moses, or Moses says God says to him in exodus 20 that God will out the sins of the fathers on their kids. But then Ezekiel comes along and God says (ch. 18) “no, I don’t do that,”i dont visit the sins of the fathers on the children”. So what we think is true in Exodus isn’t true in Ezekiel. Now move to the New Testament. Enter Jesus. And he says, “no it’s you- the individual life, engaging God the Father.” So what do we conclude?

When people are quoting Exodus for deliverance in their life and start talking about breaking the ties of generational sin….. I don’t know. Yes, there is some wisdom perhaps to be sought from this. For instance, be careful how you raise your kids. If you lie to your children, will they be honest people? Probably not. But not as a generational curse from God.

The law says, stone the adulterer. That is a serious sin to approach in the community. But Jesus comes, as God, the law-giver… He understood God’s law to prescribe. Does he stone her? No. So did God change his mind? No.

Here is where I am going with all this: there is a revelational flow in the story of things that WERE true, of things that become LESS true and sometimes eventually UNTRUE as God continues to give us a fuller picture of who he is and his story of redemption to and with the world.

God isn’t changing, but our perception of who God is changes.

We need to stop reading the bible as a law book and reading it as a storybook.

Giving Thanks - And Sometimes Not

Yes, I am thankful. Let me just get that out there loud and clear. I am SO thankful. I have SO MUCH to be thankful for! I truly truly do. I know how blessed I am. I know to be thankful for my (albeit small) home and shelter- I've seen families living in literal dumps. I have watched marriages crumble and families ripped apart - I am so grateful for a loving, sacrificing, serving, humble, gentle, godly husband. I am healthy. I am alive. Believe me, I AM GRATEFUL and not a day goes by that I don't give thanks to the One from whom I know it all comes.

But I'm taking the risk to share this: there is a lot that I am not thankful for:

• I am not thankful that the budget is always tight.
• I am not thankful that (not including in-laws) I pretty much have no family - my mom and I that is. I hate having no family. And I hate having family that just doesn't care.
• I am not grateful for fake family - people who say we are like family, but really we aren't.
• I am not thankful that my mom is always in pain.
• I am not thankful that I have no one to help me help her.
• I am not thankful that my cottage is gone.
• I am not thankful for famine and civil unrest in much of the world.

Yes, I can make an entire list of things for which I am ungrateful.

I recognize in myself a tendency to draw to the dark side. Sometimes, the spiral happens so fast that I'm in too deep to recognize that I've even gone there. And it takes all my strength and will power to fight it out - to literally talk myself out of it.

Here's what usually happens:
1. I recognize that deep sadness and the parade of thoughts that flood my mind of all the things that I am unhappy about.
2. I recognize.
3. I tell myself there's a way out.
4. I get alone, by myself for a few minutes.
5. I often tell God EXACTLY how I'm feeling
6. I let myself feel what I'm feeling for a few minutes.
7. I start listing everything that I'm so upset about.
8. Whether I feel like it or not, I start listing the things that inevitably I start thinking about that I SHOULD be grateful for.
9. As I list, I actually become grateful.
10. As I dwell on the good, the darkness fades. LIGHT! At the end of the tunnel.

And so:

• I am thankful we have a paycheck to make a budget with.
• I am thankful for the family that I do have and that I will always put my family first while watching out for others who also have little family.
• I am so thankful for friends as good as family (if not better!).
• I'm still not grateful my mom is in pain, but grateful for the things available to help her manage.
• I am thankful that I am able to help her. I am thankful to give back to her even a fraction of all the times she has cared for me and mine, sacrificing all the way.
• I miss my cottage, but I am thankful thinking about Landon around wild animals and a lake to walk into....
• I am thankful to live in the country I do and for all the ministries, missionaries and organizations that are in those suffering that I can stand behind in prayer and support.

Thankful? Yes I am.

After all, it's all in your perspective.

Why Jesus Didn't Date

*Although I would love to, I cannot take any credit for this. It is a straight cut and paste from another blogger. I won't say who for fear you should judge me on the rest of the blog, this, however is both smart and funny. For copyright purposes, site is available upon request.

(The following conversation took place between my wife Cat and I whilst driving in our car.)

Me: Hey, so I’m thinking about doing a blog post exploring the idea of Jesus being fully man, but not having a sex drive.

Cat: Oh?

Me: Yeah. Because how can Jesus be fully man without a sex drive? And if he has a sex drive, then how can he be sinless, since Matthew 5:27-28, says, “Do not commit adultery. But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” What man doesn’t look at women lustfully?

Cat [looking out her side window]: Oh.

Me: What?

Cat: What?

Me: Don’t you think that’s interesting? That Jesus has to be sinless, yet, by his own definition, cannot be, since being fully man means he must regularly commit adultery? If Jesus was fully man, then must have lusted. And if he lusted, he wasn’t sinless. [In slightly manic tone.] That’s kind of interesting, don’t you think?

Cat: Not really.

Me: What? Of course it’s interesting. It’s core to the whole conception of Jesus being fully man!

Cat: Look. You don’t lust after your sister, right?

Me: Ew. No.

Cat: And you don’t lust after your mom. Because your mom and your sister aren’t potential mates for you. That’s how Jesus saw all women. There are no potential mates for Jesus. Just like no sane father can lust after his daughter, Jesus couldn’t lust after any woman. To Jesus, every woman is his daughter. Literally.

Me: So there’s no psychological mechanism for his lust to kick in.

Cat: Right. Plus, it would be cruel of Jesus to have sexual relations with a woman. He’s God. Not exactly an equal relationship. And he’s knows he’s not gonna marry anyone.

Me: Right.

Cat: And that’s how Jesus can be fully man and never lust.

Me: Oh. [Long pause.] Yeah, I probably would have reached that same conclusion. [Cat silently resumes gazing out window.] I would have. Really. I would have thought of that.

Cat [pensively, still looking out window]: I wonder if I should start my own blog?

Me: No! You shouldn’t!

Recap

A few pictures from the Birtch Academy yearbook, 2010-2011. Love making memories!

Farm Trip

Clovermead Aviaries

The 5 Senses

A Bible study on God's saving Israel from slavery through Moses.
The hard boiled egg was a lesson on a hardened heart (like Pharaoh).

Creation

Some art with circles

Gratitude

This is the day that the Lord has made. We will REJOICE and be glad in it!

The Girl Next Door

After losing Lilli (our family's pet cat), we hung up LOST CAT signs around the neighborhood. One day, while on a family walk we noticed that a few signs had been ripped off of the mailboxes. Heartbreaking to say the least. Who would do something so cruel? It was uncalled for. Mean. FRUSTRATING. Seriously, the kids around here know us, and seriously, almost all of them were helping us look for Lilli. I wouldn't allow myself to jump to any conclusions or lay blame. Someone, for some reason didn't like our signs. Someone didn't want them up.
And then the questions: Does someone around here not like us? Did we make someone upset? Does someone have her in their home and doesn't want us to find her? The kids were really upset about it too.

"Don't judge. Don't read into it.
Just shrug it off and re-hang some signs."

That was the plan: forget about it. Until I found this:


What would you do if you received a letter like this? I found this in my mailbox. It was followed by gentle tap at my front door from Alex (and her dad).

My heart sank. I wasn't upset at ALL about the signs anymore. This poor little girl. She is beautiful. She is kind to the kids in the neighborhood. I just want to wrap my arms around her and tell her it's ok, it will get easier, that one day it really won't matter what those kids think.
Except that might have been creepy and awkward from a stranger. So less the creepy hug, I tried to encourage her in what I saw, and that I remembered those years of my life being very difficult. I told her I forgave her and cared more about her than the signs.

Her father, God bless him, was going with her door to door in our neighborhood asking if anyone had seen our missing cat. She also re-hung our signs and faced grounding from movies and playing outside. Ouch.

Here she is going door-to-door:

So despite our missing our precious kitty still, I'm amazed at how it is connecting us with those around us. And I am grateful for the opportunity to know how to pray for and encourage a young girl that's hurting.

(I wrote this in June. Lilli is still missing)

A Hug From Abba

Without Brushing My Hair

by Hafez

The closer

I get to you, Beloved,

The more I can see

It is just You and I all alone

In this world.

I hear

A knock at my door,

Who else could it be,

So I rush without brushing

My hair.

For too many nights

I have begged for Your return

And what

Is the use of vanity

At this late hour, at this divine season,

That has now come to my folded knees?

If your love letters are true dear God

I will surrender myself

to

Who you keep saying

I

Am.

The last stanza, “I will surrender myself to who you keep saying I Am,” is so inviting and so haunting. In just a few short pen strokes Hafez, the poet, has captured what, in my mind, is the essence of Scripture and has put words to God’s deepest desire for us as his children.

It is haunting because there are things I don’t want to surrender. There are things that I have convinced myself are absolutely necessary to maintain the image of self whom I and the world around me have come to know. Who would I be if I am not this person? Coming face to face with Jesus causes a crises in identity. It is to lose my life as I know it. It is to cease to function as the person with split personalities – juggling my identity between different groups of people depending on how I think they think I should be performing. To surrender the self I have constructed that my family and friends and enemies have validated is to die. What a terrifying thought.

But those who lose their life will find it.

It is also very inviting. This Jesus who stands before me, bearing all of my scars, all of my shame, all of my pain, invites me to reach out and touch. As I gaze upon the one who has taken all of this upon himself, all the things I feel I must hold on to lest I die, I am confronted with the reality that he is risen. And so I reach out and I touch, trusting that who this person says I am is perhaps true – at least for today – and today I discover life. Suddenly it becomes clear that what I thought could sustain me and shore up my identity was false and I find myself declaring, “My Lord, and my God!”

There is yet another reason this haunts me though, or rather, terrifies me. If I really am who God says I am than no longer can I walk through life as a spectator. No longer can I believe the lies that once enveloped me – those lies that say I am not good enough or righteous enough or talented enough or smart enough or, or or… – but now, if I take these words to heart, I must accept that I am loved ruthlessly, unconditionally, irrevocably. Even when I was the most obstinate this Christ died for even me. Such love directed towards me compells me into deeper relationship. Deeper relationship inspires in me a oneness of purpose and desire. A oneness of purpose and desire, this total and complete conversion, similar to being born again, causes my heart to not beat for myself but with my Creator, which shamelessly and scandously beats for all the world. Coming face to face with Jesus scares the hell out of me because to accept the truth about me, the truth which God says is true about me, requires a complete reordering of my desires and it demands more from me than any of my family, friends or enemies ever demanded. They only desired I look more like them – to uphold the status quo, to not rock the boat. Jesus says I am more than that – that I should be “perfect” (complete) not like the best Christian or Muslim or Buddhist or Atheist – well, the best human - I know, but something far more. Something like his Father in heaven.

Am I willing to journey into that? Am I willing to be who God says I already am? Jesus’ answer was a resounding, “I AM.” I want to be.

God, I will surrender myself to who you keep saying I Am.

*I wish that I could take credit for this. It is written as if my heart and soul had cried it out and I had to share it. I posted it first appearing as my own because it speaks for every part of me. It is actually written by a man named Chad Holtz and you can read his blog here.

LOST

No no, not the TV show (although I could write a book about the things that I have learned from that show. Judge away).

Here is the definition of lost: –adjective

1. no longer possessed or retained

2. no longer to be found: lost articles.

3. having gone astray or missed the way; bewildered as to place, direction, etc..

I have been thinking a lot about Lilli being lost. Where is she? What is she doing? Is she alive? Does someone else have her? What is she feeling? Does she miss us? Is she trying/wanting to get home to us? Does she even realize that she isn't with us or is lost?

And of course, as I wander the streets in the middle of the night (don't worry, cell phone in hand. Plus I'm pretty tough :) ), I am talking to God and listening for him.

Paul writes to the Philippians that "it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose".

God has a purpose, a goal, and he never stops perusing it. At least that is what I see.

There are a series of parables that Jesus talks about in Luke 15 about a lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son. And here is what I have recently realized: these stories are not ultimately about things being lost. Instead, they are about things being found. Jesus is teaching us about a God who doesn't give up until everything that was lost is found.

We might never find our Lilli girl. But we won't give up! I may not wander the streets in the middle of the night anymore, but we will keep calling her name, and we will keep our eyes open, and we will trust our God to care for her. And if he cares for her, how much more does he care for us?

Please Come Back Cat

This is our baby girl, Lilli. We love her very much, as any other pet-owner can relate. She has been missing from inside our warm, dry, protected, loving walls since last Wednesday. We have spent many many hours looking for her.
Animals were made for the outdoors. And she so desperately wanted to be outside. We kept her in the safety of our home as long as we could. But I always felt that we were doing her a great injustice. She was made to be outside, and she knew it! It's one thing if the animal does not want to go outside, it's another thing when it tries to run out each time the door opens. That was our Lilli. But we were so nervous to let her out.

Finally this year we decided that if she wanted to go out so badly, it might be safer to let her out when we were outside with her and could keep an eye on her. We thought that if we gave her some freedom and cared for her well, then she would be happy to go every-so-often and wouldn't escape and run away. This had been working until last week.

We figure she snuck (I know that is not a word) out of the house Wednesday morning, maybe when Nathan was leaving for work. She normally stays in our front garden, but I got called out of the house and when I came back I noticed she was gone. I also noticed that the maintenance people had been working on the grass etc. all day and all we can figure is that they scared her off.

We have done all kinds of things: made posters and put them up all over the neighborhood, called the shelters, called the city, put out kitty litter (it has her scent on it). I have even spent two nights searching in the quiet, wee hours of the morning (3-5am). All of these in vain.

So our baby is gone, for now. And we remember she is gone when no one is there to greet us at the door when we come in, or perch herself on the window ledge to say "good bye". We open our yogurt and no one comes running. I climb the stairs with nothing attacking my ankles. And no one is sleeping at the foot of our beds.

We are sad. We don't know why she ran off or what has happened to her.

But we know this: God loves His creation. God cares for His creation. God will bring good things from this. We have hope. We always have hope.

Hmm.

I have been thinking a lot about why I blog - because the truth is that it is a scrambled, messy assortment of what is going on in my head. I don't mean for it to be. But I am like an addict when it comes to honest expression. I just can't deny some things that I am thinking and feeling.
(I am just being honest, ha ha)

I have written before about wanting to express, having a creative space, wanting to share some of our endeavors in homeschooling (and prove to the doubters that we are capable and our kids are not only SOCIALIZED but educated!). And then I have had to have follow-up blog postings, apologizing because I may have offended some by talking about what my kids are doing. I write, I offend, I ask, I doubt, ....and then that's what it is: a mess.

I want so badly to write honestly. It bugs me to no end when I read blogs that are all pollished and nice and neatly done. You know, the shoes are shined, the shelves are dusted. Maybe that is the way that some people are. They never question things (especially of faith!), they aren't opinionated, they never raise their voice to their children or feel frustrated, and the cute confessions of laundry piles and stacks of dishes don't compensate for me. You know, the perfect mother/housewife deal. I'm too honest for that. I want to be all of Proverbs 31 and more! But I'm not there yet. I have a long ways to go.

When I read something like A Holy Experience I feel like I am reading about my dream-self. The person that I dream about being. The life I always dreamed I would have when I was "older" and "all grown up". And then I feel terrible guilt and embarassement about the things I write about. I so badly want to be an encouragement. I so badly want to write about things that matter, that will bless and edify Creation. But I just can't shut myself up. There's too much going on in my head most times and I need a place to spit it out.

So now I am regretting not starting a cute little blog that is all flowers and embedded with creatively expressed Truth.

And I regret not starting a secret blog that would be just for me and the lucky strangers who would stumble across it. That would be my "safe place" to puke out all my questions and thoughts. Maybe I will. Maybe I will start a new, secret blog and transfer anything I've written as on opinion or questioning there. And here you will see the shiny, spiritual, mature, happy homeschooling housewife.

See, I am a mess! :) Love me or leave me I guess.
Don't worry, I confuse myself!

Check marks, Gold stars, and Cell Phone Plans.

This is what it’s all about: WANTING to read God's word.

In light of Gods moving and stirring our hearts lately in new and amazing ways, we have been wanting to open our bibles, to dig deep, hear him, understand Him more and what he is teaching us. And guess what....
It’s not about a bible reading plan.

Honestly, I can’t stand them.
Please hear me when I say that we are not wanting to make anyone feel bad who has ever encouraged or done the bible reading plan check it off thing (we have!). However, it is becoming increasingly clear to us that when we attempt to adhere to these types of regimented programs, two things happen. First, once the initial excitement of getting into the bible on a daily basis wears off, we begin to suck the life out of the words that were intended to give us life. We begin reading the bible not to hear from God but to check off our bible and give ourselves a gold star. Sure, God can use these moments to speak to us, (and he does at times) but even we he is speaking to us we often quickly move on because we are “supposed” to read four more chapters still for that day or we can’t get our check mark. Really, how satisfying is a check mark anyway? Clearly it is no substitute for being led on a journey by the living and active father.
And then once the initial newness of “getting on a plan” wears off (sounds like a cell phone….is it “pay as you go”?…yes it is keep reading) we start to lose motivation and then the unthinkable happens. We miss a day! Quick call the church elders, call the prayer team, we have a crisis!!! We have been taught the following…we need time everyday in the word. Find a quiet place even if it is only for 15 minutes and read your bible and pray. A childhood song comes to mind…”Read your bible pray every day and you’ll grow grow grow”….something is missing from that to me. I can’t quite put my finger on it….

So the problem quickly becomes guilt. One missed day turns into 2. And then a week goes by and pretty soon we feel like terrible Christians. I don’t think the bible talks about getting on a bible reading plan. What comes to mind is Dueteronomy 11:18-20

“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates”.

This sounds a lot different to me than getting on some type of plan but I guess it depends on your interpretation. To me this is explained as a lifestyle that weaves it’s way into our daily life….not a fifteen minute “quiet time”.
I am coming to realize that a deep desire and hunger to dig into the scriptures comes when we are inspired by revelation. Revelation comes when we are free and open to hear his voice, which by the way is ALWAYS speaking. We just aren’t always listening. We can only truly hear his voice when we quiet voices opposed to him. I.e. The news, the government, OTHER Christians, atheists, the bible….wait did i just write that? Yes, if we are simply reading words, instead of listening for a voice then we can actually be drowning him out.
So my recommendation…..get off the “plan” or you will “pay as you go”.
And this quote seemed fitting

“After a while, religious people can allow the words themselves to become part of the non-negotiables of their of their faith, and when this happens, arguments ensue, usually about words rather than about reality…At the very least, a religious obsession with theological phraseology can turn a thriving spiritual life into one that is dysfunctional and detached, deadened by an overdose of mental abstraction.”

The writer continues,

“…Christians must never treat theological study as our stairway to heaven. Finding the right words and phrases to express faith in Christ is not what saves us.” Bruxy Cavey

*A rare appearance made here by my husband who wrote this on a friend's blog. See the comment section if you would like to see my additional thoughts

Provoked To Thought

Today Nathan read an article in The National Post reviewing a book. This is a quote that has provoked us to further thought:

"He leaves readers with more questions because he hasn’t really done his job as a teacher, which is what a minister is supposed to be. Instead, he has become a provocateur."

The origin of the word 'provocateur' is 'challenger'.

So a teacher is not a challenger? A teacher is not someone that provokes you to thought? I suppose then a teacher does not ask questions, or inspire and require you to ask them yourself. No, a true teacher will tell you just what you should think then.

It is possible, that if the questions posed make some uncomfortable, then the one responsible for composing them or stirring them must be trying to cause dissension.

Well, that may be true sometimes. So which is it then? Is the person in fact a teacher, wanting you to search for the answers to difficult questions, rather than giving them all to you on a spoon?

Or, is the person simply getting his kicks from causing trouble?

I don't know. But I hope that I have provoked you to think before you swallow.

Or at least think about what you are swallowing.

It's Not Just What You Say, But HOW You Say It

C'mon, haven't we all heard that from our Mothers?

It's not just what you say, but HOW you say it.

And don't we all find ourselves repeating the things our Mothers told us? We vow not to, but it's inevitable. And So I have found these words exiting my mouth on several occasions the past little while.

I can't deny the truth in it. I absolutely hate it when someone says my name in a heated discussion. I'm not sure I can explain it well, but something like, "No Paula, that is not what I said". Or "Don't you think you're blowing it a little out of proportin, PAULA". I feel a little roar welling up inside me just thinking about it. I hate it hate it hate it. (That and "relax".)

So now that you know how to really get me going (please don't!), I have had these same words come back to me. Another "ah-ha" moment.

I recently found myself getting very frustrated lately with the kids. The girls naturally have little squabbles and bouts of bickering. They instinctively rip breakables out of their little brother's hand and shout "NO" at him when he's getting into their stuff. And I have been reacting.

I was telling my friend that I was saying all the same things that used to "work" and now didn't. Or when she would offer gracious parenting advice she was suggesting things I was already saying.

And then it hit me. It wasn't WHAT I was saying, it was HOW I was saying it.

Duh. How could I be so ignorant? I'm the pot calling the kettle black. I felt so foolish. My error was obvious and I felt so embarrassed and guilty.

When I had just one, or even two I was much more patient.

But I also had a lot more "free time". The girls napped, allowing me at least 1 1/2 hours in the afternoon to do things. And don't forget that amazing little thing called a morning nap! They were in bed by 7pm. Meals weren't quite so large and eaters weren't quite so 'opinionated', shall we say. Clothes seemed to stay cleaner longer. And I wasn't so tired all the time.

Now, with 3 little ones I am always doing something. I am always busy and so it's become my norm to parent from across the room, or the other room sometimes. My attention is often divided. When I need to I stop and deal with the issues, but my attitude is not compassion, understanding, or gentle. Forgive me Lord. I've gotten too busy. I need to reposition my priorities and focus. Slow down Paula. It's not just what I say, but how I say it. Stop. Squat down. Look in their eyes. Be gentle.

Deep breath.

I am learning. I don't hold the guilt for long. That's not walking in the freedom of Christ that I know is mine. I am sorry, and I am grateful for this revelation and loving correction from my Father. Thank you, thank you, thank you Lord for loving me gently into a better way to love.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.
Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

Galatians 5:1

Look Who's FIVE!

I can barely bring myself to write this. How can I be putting together a birthday blessing for my baby.... Age FIVE?! Five is a milestone. A big one. It is HUGE.
When my little girl was born, I held her so close all night long. Every minute that passed I remember thinking: "She's one minute older. Wow, the seconds are just ticking away". Then 4am came and I remember thinking, "this is the first 4am of her life!" It was Friday, and I naturally thought, "wow, I am holding someone who has never experienced a Friday!" then Saturday. Then Sunday. I thought about the time passing, and all her first, and seconds, and thirds ALL the time!

Nothing had ever touched those little hands before! I would begin thinking about how new she was all over again. I was purely and simply awestruck. Have you ever thought about how many things your hands touch in an hour, or a day. Now think about your life so far and how many different things that your hands have touched. It's a lot. So to comprehend just how pure and perfect and new she was was beyond me and it awed me constantly. Not surprisingly, when she was hours old I tried to savor every minute of that newness. I knew it wouldn't last and I didn't want to take a second of it for granted. And I thought about the day that she would turn five. I wondered what she would be like. What would her personality be like? Would she love to dance and sing? What would her favorite color be? Would she be a Tom boy or girly girl? Would she love dresses or hate them? Would she keep her highlighted hair and blue eyes?

Well here we are. My little one is five. I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.

Here she is.

More beautiful and wonderful than I could ever have imagined. She is creative and artsy, but doesn't like a mess, especially on her hands.

She is girly right to the core. Dresses must be fancy, "twirly" and worn everyday.

She is kind and caring. She has always shared well and taken care of others.
But she is the boss, and don't you forget it!

I can't believe all the memories that you can make in 5 years. I will never forget raspberry picking with her. 3 years old an already an addiction!

She has always loved the beach. This is her first time at the beach with her feet in the sand.

And her first Pumpkin Festival at the farm.
She's the cutest little pumpkin in the patch!

Ug, that ridiculous Dora hat that started it all! That hat was a gift from her Uncle Matt.
Before that, she didn't know who Dora was.
She quickly learned and fell in love.

And the unforgettable "TRIANGLE"!
Ask me about that sometime.

Five years. I can't believe it. I knew it would go by fast, but that was really fast.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl! The first five have been incredible. We have loved watching you grow and learn. We are excited to continue to experience life with you. And this is our prayer for you: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:9)

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

*This is a catch-up blog post. Larissa turned 5 in November 2010

Art Lessons ...?

I am creative .... in my own way. I'm not that total right-brain thinker who thrives on visuals of symbols and colors. I like an order to things, I like to think logically through the math problem and understand the process.

However, I also LOVE to snap the camera, love the feel of fingerpaint on paper, dream about getting into pottery, could watch someone draw for hours, and culinary art is a passion. (I was also known to wear a lot of tie-dye and neon in the late 80's - 90's)

I wouldn't say that I am an artist though. I can draw if I have something to copy from. But to make it up in my head and make it come alive with a pencil - yeah, that's not me.

It may, however, be one of my children! Nate is more on that creative side than I am. I always journalled growing up, and I wrote plenty of songs. But they never had any music to them.

As I endeavor into the homeschool world, I am trying to be very aware of my strengths and weaknesses. I don't ever want to miss exposing or teaching my kids something that they might love, or in a way they might love, simply because I don't. (I realize I haven't been great at updating this blog in the school department - I got all insecure that it might seem like I was bragging about my kids)

I found this great learn-to-draw excerise online and tried it with the girls. They LOVED it! We did it a few months ago, and since then I have seen them drawing catapillars, snowmen and lollipops on several occasions. Pretty awesome. They felt so empowered to create with simple circles, that now they have the confidence to go with it.
I have since seen snails, balloons, apple trees and much more.

Thank you Lord for this idea!

Larissa's

Olivia's

Sorry if the picture isn't the greatest. Next time maybe I will let them use markers.
If you're interested in the website click here: Drawing for kids

Life Is Not A Series Of Tasks To Be Accomplished

Occasionally I come across something that is just for ME. It speaks right to my heart and awakens my Spirit so deep, so real, so alive.

I found this just now while prepping for some school things for tomorrow. But I feel paralyzed. Again, I needed this reminder.
I refuse to beat myself up about needing it. It's good. I welcome the reminder.

Here is the blog I am re-posting this from: http://a-pilgrims-heart.blogspot.com/

A golden note of misty light quietly slips through the velvet-black night; noisy birdsong dips and rolls through not-quite morning air. Into my slowly-waking heart, His whisper settles in me:


Life is not a series of tasks to be fulfilled.

It is to be lived and savoured, held close - filled with space and grace – space enough to respond to My call - no matter how inconvenient it may be when it comes.

Oh how well you know me, Father - even half awake you know my mind is already filled with things to do and achieve today, lists to check off. You know how easy it is for me to be structured, maybe even too rigid. How I feel happiest when my list all accomplished. Words that could almost define me - discipline, efficiency, focus...."Come on....time is ticking away", "Hurry up!".

But at the expense of what (or whom)? Are there feelings I have steam-rolled over, children I have nagged and harassed, precious moments I have failed to enjoy in order to finish the task?

Your words of encouragement flow through me - Life is for living:

When your son builds a fort and wants you to play even though you are in the middle of your devotions.

When your children need a snuggle just when you are desperately trying to answer all your long overdue emails.

To dance in the rain when you are supposed to be cooking dinner.

To watch a movie with the family even though they really should be in bed.

To take your time over a piece of work that you are all interested in even when the schedule tells us it's time to move on.

To lay on the floor and eat cookies, listening to music when the laundry needs doing.

Taking the day off to visit the museum or swim in the pool when there is still much to be done.

To sit and enjoy being with your husband, not rushing to put the kids to sleep.

To embrace life's bumps, surprises, mistakes and allow them to be fertiliser for learning and growth.


Life is for living not just for getting through or surviving.

Sometimes we just have to survive - I know that - I've lived it. But so much more is given to us; a life to embrace even with all its thorns and cut-glass edges. We may bleed but if we feel and live grateful and find peace in the small things, we'll find God: open-armed, smiling, delighting in us. In me. In you.

So today I pray -

" I surrender. I surrender my need to control, to have things run according to schedule, to count my worth by what I've achieved each day. I choose to live - not just survive. I want to learn to be."

As I open my eyes, I see a new day has dawned - brilliant blue streaked with fresh linen-white clouds, mellow golden morning-light dancing off the the tips of towering jade-green trees. I am reminded of this verse from His word:

Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him. Lamentations 3:22-24

Thankful for new mornings, I start today.

A secret

Did I draw you in with the hopes of hearing something juicey? Something personal? Something honest? Well, I will share two secrets with you. This is my first:

VegeGreens

That's right. My first secret is VegeGreens. I have been hiding it in a lot of things lately. The truth is that the Birtch Family has NOT been eating their vegetables. Fresh veggies have been rather intimidating to me lately. Washing, cutting, dicing, chopping. Don't get me wrong, I do it. Just not near as often as I once did, or should, or would like to. But enough "shoulding" on myself - I am grateful for VegeGreens!

My second secret: I can be kindof a control freak.

Phew, there I said it. It feels good to know the Truth though, doesn't it? It's an area I am working on and I will write more about that in the future (ie: flying on an airplane was TOTALLY uncomfortable for me because I was COMPLETELY out of control!)

One area that we are really working on is being careful to not over-parent. When good intentions go too far, you have a problem. I firmly believe that extremes of just about anything are not generally good for a person.

Like I said, more to come on this later, I promise! For now, let me show you
1) how too easy it is to be a control freak in the name of "common sense" and stifle your child's growth, creativity, imagination, enthusiasm and courage to try new things
2) how letting go is way more fun!

It was Thursday night, and I was alone with the kids for dinner (as per usual as Nathan works late twice a week). Sometimes I get in a funk with dinners. As of late, the kids have been a little more, hmmm, firm in their cuisine preferences (they've been a little picky lately).
I had planned to make souvlaki pitas - one of my hubby's favorites. I had picked up some 50% off pitas that I had put off making for two days. Needless to say, if I didn't use them that night, I was afraid that my good deal would turn into a bad, moldy, waste-of-a-deal. So I had to make them, but I knew they wouldn't go down little throats so well.

Then I looked at the pita and saw not a pita, but a PIZZA! "YES! I will let them make their own pizzas! They will love that!" I said to myself.

So I gathered various toppings into little jars for them to create with. Landon and I made the sauce (that's him in the above. Good technique, eh?)

I was right. They loved it. See...

Here are their creations:
Big one is for Olivia and Landon.
FINALLY - Olivia gets pizza with no sauce!
Little one, top right: Larissa's
Little one, bottom right: Daddy's (1/2 from 'Liv, 1/2 from Larissa)

Here's the crux of it all - did you notice what is on Larissa's? Can't tell? Look again.

Here.
It's strawberries.

Yes. Strawberries. You read that right.

She says to me, "MOMMY!" (with such intensity) "Can I put strawberries on my pizza?"

My initial response is of course, "What? You silly girl, did you just say strawberries?"
"Yes! Mmmmm that would be good" she tells me.
So I say, "I don't know if you'll like strawberries on pizza!"

Then catch myself. I'm doing it.
She wants to try something new and different. She wants to combine two of her favorite foods. Why would I stop her from that endeavor? Because I think it sounds disgusting? Seriously. I am the girl who loves to dip fries in frosties and eat cheese dorritos with cottage cheese and dill pickles (are we still friends? You think I'm sick now. That's ok).

"GO FOR IT!" I tell her. And then I change my song to be completely encouraging, supportive, excited for her new creation.

Guess what? She loved it.
And I didn't mind it.
And I loved watching her get excited about her idea and discovery.

Note to self reminder: Don't be afraid to try new things.
(but that's another story)