Yesterday We Asked God for a Miracle and He Answered Right Back

The past couple of days have been scary.  Late Wednesday night my  friend and neighbor called to say she was taking her two-year old son to Children's Hospital.  Earlier in the day he had been seen by his pediatrician for some pretty disconcerning symptoms and my friend decided the "wait and see" approach she had been prescribed was not enough.

Her husband was traveling for work so she made arrangements for her two other children, loaded up her toddler and headed out in search of answers.  The news was not good.  Initial testing led the doctors to believe that it was likely bladder cancer.

Our friends were able to keep their family and friends updated through Facebook and, right before our eyes, a virtual prayer chain was formed.  I have mixed feelings about social networking.  I enjoy the instant access to friends but the whole concept is at odds with my own need to be a bit insular.  In this case, I felt immediately connected to people throughout the country who were loving and praying for this child.  I told his mom that it felt like a tangible prayer blanket was being weaved around their family.

The doctors went ahead with a biopsy.  As we held our breath, God breathed his blessings on this family.  What looked like a cancerous tumor to a team of highly specialized doctors now seems to be something else.  It looks like little E. is going to be ok.

Sometimes we wonder if God is listening.  We wonder, in the grand scheme of the world, where do our daily concerns register?  Yesterday God reminded us that he walks with us.  We don't always get the outcome we want; but sometimes we do.  Either way, we do not take this journey alone.

Yesterday we asked God for a miracle... and he answered right back.

The Tale of Three Trees

Today, a friend and co-worker turned me on to a lovely children's book so I, in turn, am passing it on to you.  It's called The Tale of Three Trees: A Traditional Folktale retold by Angela Ellwell Hunt.  Beautifully told and illustrated this book would be a great addition to your family library.  I loved it so much I ran right out and bought it for our four children.

It's the story of three little trees, high atop a mountain, who share their dreams for what they will grow up to become.  While their plans for themselves don't turn out exactly as they imagined, in the end, each of the trees plays an important role in the life of Jesus. 

One tree becomes the manger, another becomes the boat Jesus is in when he calms the storm, and the third becomes the cross.

Reading this story made me think of my own four little ones and how I wonder what they will become.  I try to instill in them a real sense that God has a beautiful plan for their lives.  I encourage them to grow and explore and wonder and dream.  I know that like the three trees in the story, they are important to Jesus. 

I also know that even as adults, we are still "little trees" in God's eyes.  We may have deeper roots and sometimes, when the winds of life blow, we have a tendancy to snap instead of bend.  Still, God planted us and it's God who nurtures us in the fertile soil of his Son.

Now that I think about it, I'm kind of a tree hugger.  I can think of several tree-themed stories that I love.  Who doesn't like the book, The Giving Tree?  Another favorite of mine is called Trees Make the Best Mobiles: Simple Ways to Raise Your Child in a Complex World. 

I remember climbing trees as a kid, carving my initials in a tree as a young girl, discovering our favorite tree in town - the "elephant tree" - while we were on a family walk a few summers ago, and planting a tree for each of our children in the backyard .

Long after I'm gone, the trees will remain.  Long after the last of the rings on this old tree have been counted, the roots I put down, the little saplings I nurtured, the fruits I shared, the shade I offered to someone in need will live on.

Three little trees dreamed of what they would be.  But God had something more wonderful planned for them.

Mommune?

My husband and I own two homes.  Sounds upper crust, doesn't it?  It's not.  It's actually pretty crummy.  We own and lived in a historic beauty near downtown Racine and Lake Michigan for about five years when the owners of another house, just one mile south, got transferred.  We made the leap and bought the new place, hoping for the best but not realizing how horrible the housing market would become. 

The new (though actually older) house is a better fit for us.  Plenty of bedrooms, bathrooms, room to spread out, and a library that makes a wonderfully private home office - something my husband and I both need.  Still, two homes comes with its obvious disadvantages.

Financially, it has not been easy.  We did have renters, for awhile, but the elusive buyer that every homeseller is looking for is yet to be found. We've made some lifestyle modifications and are doing fine.  In fact, this little mess has actually helped us to re-evaluate the concept of want verses need as it applies to a lot of frivilous spending.  In the end, it will all work out.  Someone else will surely love this old gal as much as we did, won't they?

The thing is, as much as I love the new house and believe moving was the right decision, I'm attached to the other place and feel badly that it is not being used.  Recently, I had an epiphany: Grand old home + fireplace + good book or laptop + glass of wine or cup of coffee - children = great place for mom to get away! 

What was I thinking?  Isn't "a room of her own" every woman's dream?  Forget the shared home office situation, I'm setting up shop over there!

I sometimes brainstorm alternate uses for the house.  Afterall, we're paying for it, might as well use it.  This morning, I was thinking that if this were the sixties, that place would make a great commune.  Then it hit me - a mommune!  Imagine a sort of club house for moms.

Any interest in a lovely, quiet place where moms can come together and make themselves completely at home?  Where we can gather around a fire to read and discuss books, write, create, inspire, and re-energize?  Where small groups can connect around issues that matter to them?  Where monthly programs address our shared concerns, joys, accomplishments and challenges?   Where we can mentor a new generation of moms and tackle the issues that threaten our city and our families?

I'm getting excited as I envision moms from all walks of life drawn together by what connects us, not categorized by what sets us apart.  Single moms, married moms, divorced moms, working moms, stay-at-home moms, new moms, older moms, grand moms, step moms, gay moms, straight moms, adoptive moms, birth moms, teen moms and more.  Forget about the mommy wars. 

Think of the variety of clubs and organizations that exist.  Why not a group designed to promote and support mothers and the issues that matter to us?  My second house just might be the perfect place for such a movement to take shape - a place where you can get away and get involved at the same time.

Is forming an active, intergenerational community of moms the answer to personal burnout and community reform? Is the "Mommune" the mother of all ideas or is this mother simply sleep deprived?

Hot Cross Buns

At our last women's retreat we were having a good giggle about the year we were too late to the bakery to get a nice round of bread for communion. We ended up using Kaiser rolls.

Well, you know what they say about paybacks. It's my weekend to bake the bread for our congregation's lovely practice of using homemade bread during communion. It's not going so hot. The bread isn't rising and it looks a lot more like the buns of Christ, then the Body of Christ. Great. I'm trying to be careful and prayerful as I kneed frantically to get my dough to look more like bread. I'm trying not to panic as I envision our Pastor, lifting my buns in the air for all of the congregation to see and I'm wondering how long it will be before I'm reassigned to another volunteer post. Maybe I can be in charge of picking up the kringle for coffee hour. That seems like a lot less pressure.

My bread is a bust. Here's hoping a fish and loaves style miracle can happen in my kitchen - stat. See you at the communion rail. Try to keep a straight face.

"When Your Cup is Empty, You Can't Give Anyone Else a Drink."

Today I heard a woman say, "When your cup is empty, you can't give anyone else a drink." That statement resonated with me, especially as we move toward a busy time of the year.

Now that the calendar has turned to November I feel myself gearing up for the marathon that starts in a few weeks and lasts through January 2. I also find myself dreading all of the extras that bog down the holidays and take the focus away from what I really want to relish in. Things like being thankful and celebrating the birth of Jesus.

It seems I have a chronic, seasonal disease. I'll call it Empty Holiday Syndrome. The number one symptom of EHS is, as the name implies, a nagging sense of emptyness. The disease does not respond to the remedies we have been told will fill any void in our lives. For example, popular elixirs such as overeating, overflowing your shopping cart, pages long shopping lists, even longer wish lists, over indulgence in holiday cheer, and overspending just seem to exaggerate the symptoms.

The disease is highly contagious. No one in their right mind would sleep on the sidewalk all night just to be first in line for the chance to overpay for the lastest gizmo if they had not caught this dreadful disease somewhere. I've decided the best thing to do is stay in isolation. No risky trips to the mall for me.

In many ways, the annual Christmas shopping season is like any other sport season - highly competetive, not always the best example of sportsmanship and usually maintaining its intensity until the last buzzer sounds. I see others succumbing, and initially they do it with enthusiasm. Groups of friends calmor into cars and head to the store, eager to outshop and outspend each other. What starts off as a fun-lovin' shopping trip too often ends in a mountain of materialism that doesn't quite convey the message we truly hoped to send.

This year, I'm radically implementing a mostly "homemade Christmas" rule at our house. If you can't make it we won't take it. I'm writing a story for each of my four children. I'm also painting them pictures to hang in their rooms. They are busy thinking up things to make for each other. I've overheard some of their conversations and they're cooking up some real doozies. It should be fun; and far more meaningful than what they're selling at the mall.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not anti-Christmas present or Anti-Santa. Cashmere has brought me plenty of Christmas joy and the man in the red suit will surely slide down our chimney again this year. What I am opposed to is how easily we get wrapped up (pardon the pun) in the things that burden us during what really is "the most wonderful time of the year."

I remind myself, Son of God + Born in manger = Less is more. God showed us the power of keeping it simple. The true Christmas story should be more than enough to fill every wish, every need, every thing. When did we decide it wasn't? When did we make it about us? When did we become so detached from the importance and purity of the story that we feel physically empty, even ill? And why, why, why do we keep up this empty overindulgence year after year?

I am not an innocent observer of all of this. I'm more of a recovering addict. I can't tell you how many times the Christmas spirit has turned into sheer panic when the credit card bill arrived in January. How did it all add us so fast and did most of those "must haves" really matter at all? I've been the mom who wants her children to have piles of gifts. Funny thing is, most of the time what they've been given has been far more than they every hoped to recieve. And really, what are we giving them? Are we just passing on our own empty Christmas to the next generation? Come on, ladies. We know better than that.

Women typically carry most of the burden for the holiday planning, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and organizing. We are the ones who are most likely to feel that holiday overload has us running on empty. If the social pressures and brilliant marketing starts you down this path, remember, when your cup is empty, you can't give anyone else a drink. We are gearing up for the most magical season of the year. Our cup, no doubt, runneth over. We live in a world forever changed by a baby born in a barn. We don't need to dress up Christmas. There is simply no way to make the story anymore beautiful than it is.

Set a new tone for your Christmas this year. Step back, reconnect and regain control of this most important time. Prayerful celebration, loving anticipation, generosity that conveys love without overpowering the real message, and an earnest effort to simplify will bring more comfort and joy than any "things" possibly can.

Let's keep our cup full and share that sense of satisfaction with the people we love and care about. It's the best gift we can give them, and ourselves. Cheers!

Dear God, I'm All Ears.

Ever feel like you're spinning your wheels? Lately I've been giving a lot of thought to how I'm using my life.

I ask myself, "Is the way I'm spending my time a true reflection of my values?"

I wonder, "If I cut out the clutter of daily life, how much time could I free up to accomplish things of greater importance?"

These are the big questions that fill my mind as I go about the daily grind. I find myself wondering if I am full filling God's plan for me. I'm a true believer that we all have a purpose and a calling bigger than we'll ever know. I also believe that we have to be open to the Spirit, ready and willing to do the work, say the words, lend the support, give the love, and meet the needs God sets before us. I look for these opportunities, I wonder what's next and I pray I'm not missing any of the signs God is giving me.

Sometimes I wish I could see the playbook. I worry about getting too comfortable and complacent. I guess it's good to question - to be searching for a sense of wholeness that comes when your values and lifestyle are in sync, when your life and your work are in harmony, when your response to the needs of others is timely and thoughtful, when you follow the example of Jesus and set that example for others, when you go to bed at night confident that you lived the day you were called to live.

So I search, I question, I work, I pray, I wonder, and I say, "Dear God, I'm all ears. Tell me how I can best serve you."