Today is 9-09-09. A date I thought we could appreciate given our calendar culture. Anyway, yesterday Cambell brought home a note saying she and her classmates were supposed to dress to the nines today in honor of the 9-9-09 date. This is right up her alley. If dressing to the nines means wearing a flouncy white dress, Easter heels, plenty (read- way too much) costume jewelry and my lip gloss then it's "mission accomplished" for my fancy first grader.
At breakfast, during the great "which dress" debate, I started thinking about how much we have. Life as a middle class American, even in tough economic times, is pretty full of frills.
Laeken told me the other day that she dreamt she crossed the international date line and travelled in time so she could see the day she was born. I imagine that time travellers from the past and international travellers from today would be taken aback by all we have, by how "gussied up" our lives have become.
Tonight our entire family is getting in the game. We are dressing to the nines for dinner and serving our pizza on the china we have but never use - milk in tea cups and the whole "nine" yards. Scott will wear the suit he wore to work this morning. Maybe I'll wear one of the two never-been-worn bridesmaids dresses hanging in my closet. We'll laugh and consider all we have and spend some time thinking about those who have so much less. We'll have some fun with this unusual date and use it as a reminder that all good things come from God.
This morning, as I sat in the van watching the girls go into the school, I had a good laugh seeing Cambell strut down the sidewalk like it was a cat walk. As I drove off, I wondered if God gets a good giggle out of us when he sees how focused we get on all of the stuff that fills our lives and drains our wallets. Silly people.
We can have fun with the bells and whistles and ruffles of life and that's OK. But when it comes right down to it, I think we can all agree, that could be stripped away in an instant and we would still have more than enough. That's what you get when you're lucky enough to recognize that you are living your life in the arms of a loving God. A life that is something truly beautiful, even without the frills.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Something in the Air
There was something in the air this morning. I could feel it from the moment I opened my eyes - before I even felt the wind. The forecast called for rain but I woke up to a bright and breezy morning. I was thrilled. I love a windy day. It's part of the reason fall is my favorite season. It's also part of the reason I love living where I do, on the banks of Lake Michigan, right in the line of the lake breeze.
Today when I opened my doors and windows there was something different, something marvelous about the breeze. I went outside and came back in commenting that this was the most refreshing wind I have ever felt. "Go outside" I said, "you've got to feel this."
Once inside I did a quick check of the news of the day and the two blogs I follow each morning - one about my friend Megan's son (see older post about Phoenix) and the other about my friend Sue who is battling cancer. There it was. The news I knew was coming but still didn't expect to read. Sue died peacefully last night at home in the loving company of her family.
I instantly knew there was indeed something in the air. Sue was a remarkable woman of faith, family, humor, joy, adventure and love. Of course she would spend some time circling this Earth, free from the pain and confines of cancer. She was, afterall, a pilot. When a spirit like that is set free it is sure to blow through you and wash over you in a way that is no ordinary wind can.
I quickly rounded up my four children. "Get your shoes on. We have to go outside. Quick, before she's gone." We walked to the lake, looked out at the horizon, let the wind blow through our hair and our hearts. I told them about my friend and how her beautiful example taught me lessons about grace, faith and kindness.
I asked her, "Is it really like this?" "Is it really this fresh and free and fullfilling?" As I stood there, listening to the wind playfully blow through the trees and the lake, I knew the answer was a definitive "yes."
There is someone in the air today. She has been released in a gust of God's glory. It's only natural to want to reach out and touch her but we can't. You can't bottle the wind. But you can spread your arms, close your eyes and let her spirit blow through you knowing that today, a remarkable spirit is breezing toward Heaven and, at last, the peace she deserves.
Today when I opened my doors and windows there was something different, something marvelous about the breeze. I went outside and came back in commenting that this was the most refreshing wind I have ever felt. "Go outside" I said, "you've got to feel this."
Once inside I did a quick check of the news of the day and the two blogs I follow each morning - one about my friend Megan's son (see older post about Phoenix) and the other about my friend Sue who is battling cancer. There it was. The news I knew was coming but still didn't expect to read. Sue died peacefully last night at home in the loving company of her family.
I instantly knew there was indeed something in the air. Sue was a remarkable woman of faith, family, humor, joy, adventure and love. Of course she would spend some time circling this Earth, free from the pain and confines of cancer. She was, afterall, a pilot. When a spirit like that is set free it is sure to blow through you and wash over you in a way that is no ordinary wind can.
I quickly rounded up my four children. "Get your shoes on. We have to go outside. Quick, before she's gone." We walked to the lake, looked out at the horizon, let the wind blow through our hair and our hearts. I told them about my friend and how her beautiful example taught me lessons about grace, faith and kindness.
I asked her, "Is it really like this?" "Is it really this fresh and free and fullfilling?" As I stood there, listening to the wind playfully blow through the trees and the lake, I knew the answer was a definitive "yes."
There is someone in the air today. She has been released in a gust of God's glory. It's only natural to want to reach out and touch her but we can't. You can't bottle the wind. But you can spread your arms, close your eyes and let her spirit blow through you knowing that today, a remarkable spirit is breezing toward Heaven and, at last, the peace she deserves.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
What Does Your Miracle Look Like?
A friend of mine is in the hospital in Texas where she delivered her third son via c-section yesterday morning. Phoenix is a miracle baby. Even as late as yesterday doctors were unsure if he would survive birth and, if he did, what life on the outside might hold for him. As you can imagine, emotions have been running high. The back story is that Megan and her husband Mike lost their first son, Evan, who was stillborn. They knew early on that both boys had little chance at life but continued with the pregnancies, nurturing them and packing as much love into nine months of pregnancy as many children get in a lifetime.
We have all prayed that the outcome will be different for Phoenix. Please, God, grant them some time with this child. Let her hold him, feel his breath on her face, smell him, rock him, nurse him, look him in the eyes and tell him what he surely already knows - that he is a child of God who is has been deeply loved, anticipated, and wanted.
Phoenix was born weighing just over four pounds. He is resting comfortably after surgery last night. Mom, Dad and big brother Rowan are over the moon, savoring every moment of this miracle. I have been amazed by their strength and trust in God. They see a big miracle in this little baby and are realistic in their expectations for his future, which is still uncertain, at best.
Too often we close our eyes to miracles when they don't look just as we had hoped they would look, when they don't meet our every expectation.
Today, in a hospital in Texas, a family is loving a fragile baby boy. Doctors say he will not walk and will require more surgeries to close his open spine. The circumstances are not ideal. Life is not perfect. Luckily, God's love and grace are. Maybe we too narrowly define our blessings. We only see God in the big things - the things that seem to us to have a perfect outcome. We expect our miracles to be all or nothing. The truth is small miracles surround us at every moment. If we could embrace that our lives would be so different, so much more fulfilling and whole. I want to breathe that air -to be fueled by the Holy Spirit who is active and alive.
Close your eyes and take a deep breathe. What does your miracle look like?
PS
Welcome to the world, sweet Phoenix!
We have all prayed that the outcome will be different for Phoenix. Please, God, grant them some time with this child. Let her hold him, feel his breath on her face, smell him, rock him, nurse him, look him in the eyes and tell him what he surely already knows - that he is a child of God who is has been deeply loved, anticipated, and wanted.
Phoenix was born weighing just over four pounds. He is resting comfortably after surgery last night. Mom, Dad and big brother Rowan are over the moon, savoring every moment of this miracle. I have been amazed by their strength and trust in God. They see a big miracle in this little baby and are realistic in their expectations for his future, which is still uncertain, at best.
Too often we close our eyes to miracles when they don't look just as we had hoped they would look, when they don't meet our every expectation.
Today, in a hospital in Texas, a family is loving a fragile baby boy. Doctors say he will not walk and will require more surgeries to close his open spine. The circumstances are not ideal. Life is not perfect. Luckily, God's love and grace are. Maybe we too narrowly define our blessings. We only see God in the big things - the things that seem to us to have a perfect outcome. We expect our miracles to be all or nothing. The truth is small miracles surround us at every moment. If we could embrace that our lives would be so different, so much more fulfilling and whole. I want to breathe that air -to be fueled by the Holy Spirit who is active and alive.
Close your eyes and take a deep breathe. What does your miracle look like?
PS
Welcome to the world, sweet Phoenix!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
What Are You Looking For?
I recently realized how easily entertained I am. Ever since I was a child I have been able to pass hours of time simply looking for things. It's a trait I've passed on to my own children and something we share with real enthusiasm.
As a little girl, my babysitter, Beth, taught me how to play "Find the Button." While my sister, brother and I closed our eyes she would hide a button somewhere in the house and then we would look for it. She would give us clues like, "getting warmer" or "getting colder" to guide us in our search. We looked forward to evenings with Beth and our favorite game. These days I'm the official button-hider in our family and, like their mother, my children pass many long winter hours looking for that button.
Another favorite childhood pastime of mine was finding agates. Agates are rocks that have very pretty lines in them when they are polished. We loved going to the old gravel road where we would look for agates for hours.
Maybe it's genetic. My children have discovered their own love of looking for interesting rocks. They can see beauty in stones that are far less exotic than the agates of my childhood. They are always on the lookout for rocks and bring them home by the handful.
On a sunny summer day, you might find us laying on the front yard looking for shapes in the clouds. Yep. It's another looking game that I love and encourage. In our hyper-scheduled world I don't think children are given nearly enough time to have their head in the clouds and I'm on a one woman mission to change that for my own children.
Lately, we've added looking for crosses to our list of "look for" favorites. We've found that if you're looking for them, you can find crosses everywhere - in high line poles, window frames, intersections, light poles, trees, fences, car doors, jungle gyms and, yes, even in the clouds.
"Find the Cross" does more than keep my children occupied while riding around town in our minivan. It teaches them that they are surrounded by signs of the cross and all that it represents. The other day, when we were getting into the van, one of my daughters noticed that the door panel and window on our vehicle intersect to make the shape of a cross. She commented, "That must mean God is with us when we're driving."
In life, we will all experience times when we're searching for things bigger and more consuming than buttons and rocks and shapes in the clouds. If all of my years as a "look for" fanantic have taught me anything it's that when you're really searching, you don't have to look any farther than the cross.
Play a game of "Find the Cross" today. The cross, and the man who loved you enough to die on it for you, are closer than you think. Go ahead, take a look. As Beth would say, "You're getting warmer."
As a little girl, my babysitter, Beth, taught me how to play "Find the Button." While my sister, brother and I closed our eyes she would hide a button somewhere in the house and then we would look for it. She would give us clues like, "getting warmer" or "getting colder" to guide us in our search. We looked forward to evenings with Beth and our favorite game. These days I'm the official button-hider in our family and, like their mother, my children pass many long winter hours looking for that button.
Another favorite childhood pastime of mine was finding agates. Agates are rocks that have very pretty lines in them when they are polished. We loved going to the old gravel road where we would look for agates for hours.
Maybe it's genetic. My children have discovered their own love of looking for interesting rocks. They can see beauty in stones that are far less exotic than the agates of my childhood. They are always on the lookout for rocks and bring them home by the handful.
On a sunny summer day, you might find us laying on the front yard looking for shapes in the clouds. Yep. It's another looking game that I love and encourage. In our hyper-scheduled world I don't think children are given nearly enough time to have their head in the clouds and I'm on a one woman mission to change that for my own children.
Lately, we've added looking for crosses to our list of "look for" favorites. We've found that if you're looking for them, you can find crosses everywhere - in high line poles, window frames, intersections, light poles, trees, fences, car doors, jungle gyms and, yes, even in the clouds.
"Find the Cross" does more than keep my children occupied while riding around town in our minivan. It teaches them that they are surrounded by signs of the cross and all that it represents. The other day, when we were getting into the van, one of my daughters noticed that the door panel and window on our vehicle intersect to make the shape of a cross. She commented, "That must mean God is with us when we're driving."
In life, we will all experience times when we're searching for things bigger and more consuming than buttons and rocks and shapes in the clouds. If all of my years as a "look for" fanantic have taught me anything it's that when you're really searching, you don't have to look any farther than the cross.
Play a game of "Find the Cross" today. The cross, and the man who loved you enough to die on it for you, are closer than you think. Go ahead, take a look. As Beth would say, "You're getting warmer."
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