carrying ballast

buna

2012-02-01T23:32:00.001-08:00

Is there anything that holds the memory
of a place
more completely than a smell?

He was so small the last time
corn sizzled and popped
over charcoal
while the coffee steeped --

and that nearly half a lifetime
ago in baby years.

Still today he stopped, remembered:
lifted his nose a bit with a deep breath,
and smelling the popping corn
asked for the coffee.

whack-a-mole

2012-01-31T19:36:00.000-08:00

My house is pristine
and my car is a sty.

Keeping one thing alive
will make something else die.

I better just laugh
or I think I might cry.

who is two

2012-01-30T23:24:00.001-08:00

One of us blew out
two candles on the last cake;

The other one is pitching a fit,
pounding her fists on the bed and
losing a battle of wills.

re-purposing

2012-01-29T16:10:00.001-08:00

It seems I do all my blogging on my other site these days, but I don't want to get rid of this space quite yet. I think I will keep it and re-purpose it as a poetry journal. Here's a little something I wrote this morning to get started.

Sunday Morning

I can hardly tell if
it's the most important thing
I've ever done,
or the most frivolous.
(It could be both
but that feels too cliche.)
Is it presumptuous
to think
I might approach the One
who made the seed break open
in the soil,
sprout and stretch its
branches to the sky before
it was felled and split
into the polished planks
I'm standing on?
Yes.
Maybe faith is the guts
to stand anyway
and ask to be the seed.

on being a garden

2011-10-10T20:41:00.000-07:00

Not tender care, not careful tending.

Not water or sun or food.

Not knowledge or wisdom or experience, nor the putting into practice of such things.

Not gardening.

Just seed and scattered intentions, met by a hull-bursting, ground-breaking, stalk-raising Force
(love).

Neglected and abandoned, but a garden still.
Forgotten, overgrown, unweeded, unwatered, unkempt--
and a garden still. Fruit-bearing, even.

Beauty besting death, a harvest of grace.

Come and see what the Lord has done,

taste his goodness,

walk in abundance,

and run in freedom,

a garden still.

[for WCT.]

an LA girl's guide to seattle

2011-09-17T17:03:00.000-07:00

1. COFFEE

The Drive-Thru Coffee Stand: These are everywhere here because no one wants to get out of their car and walk into a store to buy coffee in the rain. The coffee is cheap (I see $2 for any drink any size advertised often), but typically not terrific - you get what you pay for.

The Snobby Organic Fair-Trade Artsy Independent Coffee House: The cups are made out of compostable plant materials, there's probably not a menu, and the baristas may or may not shower weekly, but the coffee is awesome. And expensive.

S.tarbucks: I was not a big fan of the *$ before moving up here, but it is such an institution in these parts that one has to make a conscious choice to resist or else be sucked into its gravitational pull. I looked around the room at a meeting last week and there were 7 S.tarbucks cups at a table of 11 people. It's part of the culture. I'm OK with it (i.e brainwashed).

2. COMMUNITY

People in Seattle are nice. We are polite and we mind our own business. We will let you ahead of us in line at the grocery store if you only have 3 things in your cart. We smile and say hello to each other. However. We are fiercely independent and private and not very good at forming deep and meaningful relationships with each other. Consider yourself warned: it can be a hard place to make close friendships and build community. Not impossible, just hard.

3. COMMUTING

The drivers here will make you bonkers. We are too nice (see above), to the point of actually being dangerous. We slow down to 40 mph to let you merge in front of us from an on-ramp when the surrounding traffic is going 70. When you put your blinker on, we will actually let you in. Don't freak out! This is normal here. You should also know that since we are a bunch of tree-huggers, lots of people choose to bike, bus, or carpool to work. For some reason the rush-hour traffic still sucks though.

4. CULTURE

Compared to LA, the overall 'feel' of Seattle culture is chill. There is still a lot going on and plenty of things to do, but everything is just dialed back a few notches. The music scene is fun - there are always plenty of live shows happening and tons of big artists make Seattle a regular stop on their nationwide tours. Even though our weather sucks, we are a city that likes to be outside. You can tell who the tourists are because they are using umbrellas -- locals just tuck their hair into their North Face jacket and tough it out. The little subcultures of the different neighborhoods here remind me of certain parts of LA (if a bit scaled down): West Seattle's packed real estate and beach-front shops are reminiscent of Hermosa, Wallingford's hipster yoga moms would fit in Silver Lake, and the combination of industrial areas, low-income housing, and beautiful waterfront neighborhoods makes Renton a sister city to Torrance.

5. CLOTHING

I am not sure I'm very qualified to speak on this subject since I'm not exactly Ms. Fashionista and these days I barely ever interact with people who don't have spit-up on their clothes... but I'll give it a shot. I think Seattle 'fashion' (using that term loosely) varies a lot depending on the neighborhood and demographic. In some ways it is more casual than LA (i.e. you will not find very many Jimmy Choos walking down 5th Avenue carrying Bloomies bags), but in other ways it's not (we do not wear daisy dukes, bikinis on top... ugh, I love to hate Katy Perry). Jeans with Ugg boots (or Costco knock-offs, in my case), a hoodie or cardigan, and maybe a cute scarf thrown in would be considered a decent outfit. Also, whatever you would call a "jacket" in LA can only be worn on the nicest of Spring days here, and you'll probably still be chilly. Don't bother buying a coat until you get here or you'll just end up buying another one by the end of October.

I'm sure there's plenty more to say, but that's all I can come up with for now... For what it's worth, I did love LA... but I adore Seattle and now I can't see myself living anywhere else. Welcome to Rain City, ladies!

big enough

2011-09-15T07:03:00.000-07:00

Two strong convictions have been steadily building throughout my journey of faith:

1. There is only one way to God the Father, one way to salvation, one way to freedom, one way to life as it was meant to be lived, and that is through the person of Jesus Christ: his life, death, and resurrection.

2. There are as many ways to pursue, experience, and receive the person of Jesus Christ as there are people in the world.

My sister is soaking up his grace through Dani Johnson's teachings about success.

I am drinking him in through Wendell Berry's words about failure.

He is more than big enough to be revealed in both.

labyrinth stories

2011-09-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

I have a thing for labyrinths. We came across this one on Orcas Island last weekend and I sat in the grass watching my kids, snapping dozens of pictures on my phone, feeling full in my heart. They are not high quality photos, but I dare you to look through them and not hear all the stories they tell. Crawling, walking, waiting, resting, watching, crying, disappearing, turning, chasing, carrying each other: this is us.

tending

2011-08-23T14:08:00.000-07:00

My garden has utterly
run amok.

Then again
other things have been tended carefully
and are coming right along.

bellyfull

2011-07-22T19:43:00.000-07:00

Just before dusk I am out to pick the raspberries. They are barely tamed, teeming with fruit and tangled in heaps over heavy-burdened lengths of twine. They are mine.

But they're not, because I am almost nothing to their thriving lives: not the seed-sower, not the grower, hardly the keeper, only the blessed reaper am I.

Fat with juice, a tap to loose a ready berry and it bounces happily from hull to bucket bottom. I crouch in the rich old soil, thankful.

The carrot seedlings fed the evening rabbits, though I tried to tend them faithfully. Theiving crows snatched up the sunflowers before a single sprout could see its namesake. My hands' good work, a feast for scavengers and nothing for it.

Nothing for it, but a bellyfull of raspberries.

dinner

2011-07-19T20:21:00.001-07:00

I am on a two-night streak of making dinners that are A) not pizza or hot dogs, B) made from ingredients (not frozen, canned, or boxed), and C) enjoyed by the whole! entire! family! Sadly folks, this is blog-worthy.

Last night I made this pasta salad and we took it up to the pool. Jon declared it one of his favorite meals I've ever made (granted, the poor guy was starving because he worked late and ate lunch early). The kids ate every bite, it kept well for leftovers, and it was crazy easy to make: definitely a keeper.

Tonight I made Pioneer Woman's Marlboro Man Sandwiches. Quite possibly the first time I've made beef and not just tolerated it but actually loved it. (Perhaps it was the stick of butter? PW is the Paula Dean of the internet, love that woman.) I have a feeling that with a houseful of boys, this recipe will serve me well over the years.

What are y'all eating these days?

a letter to my imaginary frenemy

2011-07-14T15:26:00.000-07:00

Dear Madame,

I am breaking up with you.

Now before you get all angry, let's remember that I made you up. You are not real. You are a composite of all the best characteristics of all the women I've ever met at the park, or seen at Target, or stalked on the blogosphere. You have recently washed hair and cute shoes. Your children stand quietly in line at the post office and have never watched Disney Junior. You always return phone calls, you never raise your voice, and your pork chops are delicious. I hate you.

But for all your sickening perfection, you have a fatal flaw: You are a liar. You tell me I am frumpy and lazy. You once said I was a bad mom, and even hinted that my children couldn't help being wild with such an incapable role model and teacher. You are wrong.

Oh, and don't even try to blame the wonderful ladies you are loosely based upon. Sure, they are beautiful and talented and lovely, but unlike you they have all the weakness and frailty and wonder that hums inside each human being. Maybe I haven't seen it all, but that certainly isn't their fault.

Since you are a figment of my imagination, the beauty of this break-up is that you are gone forever. We won't run into each other awkwardly at the grocery store or end up at the same parties of our mutual friends. We're done, and I couldn't be happier.

Goodbye forever,
Haley

independence day?

2011-07-04T12:29:00.000-07:00

I am going to try to write a post that is not a list. I know, I know, you're so impressed. Well don't be, because it is going to be a jumble of partially processed thoughts based on questionable data and a dash of privilege.

Today is the 4th of July and I am feeling weird about it. Don't get me wrong, I think there are a lot of pretty great things about America and I am thankful to be American. But the textbook story of our country's beginnings has slowly lost its glory for me year by year, not because of what is said, but because of what is often left unsaid.

The 4th of July, or Independence Day, is the day of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, the day that the 13 colonies became independent states and America emerged from under the heavy hand of Great Britain. "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness." What an amazing sentence... except that in 1776 it didn't really mean what it said.

I do not understand how slave-owners could have signed this statement. I do not understand how men who sanctioned the massacres of Native Americans could have signed it. I do not understand how so many beautiful truths could have been written at a time when so many atrocities were being carried out. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." Oh, unless they are black, in which case they are no longer humans and are now property. Oh, and if they already lived here before we arrived they are just a nuisance to be eliminated so that our Manifest Destiny can unfold as God surely desires. ?!?

I know there is a lot to celebrate today, but I also think we need to be real about what didn't happen on the 4th of July. Liberty and justice for all? Nope. Land of the free? Only if you're a white man. I'm not saying we should all mope around and be depressed about these things, but pretending that American people have been equal and free since 1776 is ignorant and offensive. And, whether most white people want to admit it or not, the bigotry and inequality that characterized our country's beginnings has left deep wounds which time alone will not heal... but that is a subject for another post. For now I'll just wish you all a Happy Let's-Keep-Working-Together-To-Actually-Live-Out-The-Declaration-of-Independence Day!

when you're away

2011-06-12T20:03:00.000-07:00

I stay up too late.

I eat strange things for dinner.

I usually have a sick kid on my hands.

I hit up the drive-thru.

I think I'll get lots of things done. (But I don't.)

I pray more.

I let the kids play in the bath until they are prunes.

I run the dishwasher before it is all the way full.

I get creeped out by every little noise I hear at night.

I wake up when your alarm is supposed to go off.

I eat ice cream out of the carton.

I miss you so very much.

I am not quite my whole self.

an ode to those making homes with boys

2011-05-26T14:54:00.000-07:00

We buy band-aids in bulk.

We manage to look amazed (and not even a little grossed out)
when a worm is dangled under our nose.

We pick up Lego pieces invisible to the naked eye.

We make rules like
'No throwing boogers'
and 'No swords at the dinner table.'

We do eleventy-hundred loads of laundry a day.

We are terrible at car crash sound effects
(but we make them anyway).

We pretend to be dragons
and dinosaurs
and knights
and pirates
and big scary sock-eating monsters.

We kiss milk mustaches.

We know the difference between
a 'we're just having good loud fun' noise
and a 'someone's about to go to the ER' noise.

We find pebbles in the dryer.

We sneak into their rooms at night to stare at them
because it is the only time
when they are quiet and still enough to let us.

they all start somewhere

2011-05-15T14:04:00.000-07:00

Above are the opening 2 chapters of N's first novel.

Things I love about this:

1. The author, who turns six later this month, wrote it without any help.

2. Almost every sentence is exciting! enough! for! an! exclamation! point!

3. All CAPS on the dramatic last words of the sentences. Despite repeated attempts on my part to ascertain the source of this unusual writing technique, the author refused to divulge his influences.

4. References to flora.

5. Mom was not burned after all [sigh of relief].

what i would say to you (if you were not me)

2011-05-02T19:18:00.000-07:00

Dear friend,

It's OK. It's OK to be useless. It's OK to be sad. It's OK to need help.

Who gave you permission to say those things about yourself? You are God's beloved child, created for his glory and redeemed by his grace. He delights in you. Yes, even now, when you feel you are at your worst, when you feel like a failure, when you have nothing to offer, even now - he delights in you.

This is a hard stage. That is just facts, it has nothing to do with your efficacy or skill. It just is, unequivocally, a tough stage of motherhood.

You can only be what God made you to be. You are only as useful as the grace he gives you at any given moment. If you find that God is pleased to render you useless sometimes, don't despair. Rest.

Nothing you do or fail to do can change the love of God for you, his child. You fight this, and if you're honest, you don't really like this about God. Surely, if you do things right, he'll love you just a little more. But his love does not fit in your hand. You are thinking in teaspoons about a love that floods the oceans. Toss away your measuring cups and drown in it.

Love,
The Me I Am To Everyone Else

the middle

2011-04-24T14:01:00.001-07:00

I guess I unintentionally gave up blogging here for Lent. But now, as my son wrote in his notebook this morning, He is risen! and I am back.

I don't have much to say, really. [I get most of my ~~free therapy~~ blogging done here these days.] I'm writing anyway today because sometimes it's good to hear the middle of the story.

We like to wait to see where our stories are going before we start telling them. We're not afraid to admit our mistakes and stumbles as long as we can keep talking, as long as we can explain just how they all got fixed and how everything happened for a reason.

What about the middle? What about the times when we aren't sure how it will all turn out? Why are we afraid to open our mouths in those moments?

It might be because opening our mouths when we're in the middle can sound a lot like whining. It can sound like lack of faith. It can even sound like disobedience.

And maybe it is, I don't know. Maybe we have to whine and doubt and disobey our way through the muck until we see how God is making castles from our mud cakes. I still think it's OK to talk about it.

lent

2011-03-10T06:47:00.000-08:00

It was a strange Ash Wednesday for me this year.

True, I did spend the usual quiet evening hour in stillness and intermittent soft singing... but I wasn't at church. I was in a dark bedroom, trying to lull my strong-willed son into the sleep he so desperately needed.

Instead of ashes across my forehead I got scratch marks across my cheek. He's a fighter, this one.

I haven't been thinking about what I'll give up for Lent. I've been wavering between self-pity over the sacrifices of my current season and pure wonder at the joy of it.

I think I'll allow myself the creature comforts this Lent - facebook and coffee and such. Lord knows I'll have enough built-in loneliness and exhaustion in these 40 days. The task, then, will be to turn to Jesus in all of it -- to let it be a joining in his loneliness, his aching bones, his fear and confusion and desperation. He walked those roads to lead me in them if I'll let him.

noticing

2011-02-15T20:30:00.000-08:00

Noticing is a good habit, I think. It can be a remedy for self-obsession... unless, of course, you only notice things about yourself. :) Anyway, here are some things I've been noticing.

The light pink rhododendrons are blooming.

My boys, 27 months apart, are sharing clothes. (Can't decide how I feel about this.)

Reheated rice is not that great.

Board books hurt when they are chucked point-blank at the back of your head.

The grass is growing again.

My children are some of the most forgiving individuals I have ever met. Thank God.

The laundry needs to be folded.

The scent of newly-opened cherry blossoms can drift a long way.

Nothing important seems to happen when (or how) you think it will.

God knows what he's doing.

they said it

2011-02-02T14:49:00.000-08:00

---

Me: Dexter, are you all done with your cereal?

Dexter: You're a moose fur bagel dog!

---

Preschool Teacher: Wow, you're smart!

Dexter: Smarty, hearty, party!

---

[in the car, out of the blue]

Dexter: Only bees are on facebook.

---

---

Nate: Mommy, I kind of like that show that's not a kid show where the people sing and the three people watch them.

Me: Oh yeah?

Nate: Yeah. Is that in Hollywood?

Me: What?! You know what Hollywood is?

Nate: Yes, I know what Hollywood is.

[Duh, Mom.]

Me: OK, what is Hollywood?

Nate: It's when you get the yellow paper.

Me: [cracking up and remembering that I let him watch a few minutes of American Idol with me last week] Yep, you're right buddy.

---

[during prayers last night]

Nate: Please Jesus, help the people in Ethiopia have a good meeting so that Zeke can come home soon. Because I really want Zeke to come home soon.

[Amen to that, son.]

---

in which i rant SNL-style about individualism and success-worship

2011-01-20T13:02:00.000-08:00

I usually steer clear of parenting magazines, but the other day I grabbed a free copy of Parent Map at preschool. I picked it up for 2 reasons:

1. I just started reading a fascinating book called "Conceiving Parenthood: American Protestantism and the Spirit of Reproduction" and chapter 1 was all about the underlying messages about race, class, and culture in parenting magazines from their inception (around the 1920s) to now.

2. The cover story caught my eye; the title was "Are We Born Racist?"

The bulk of the story was what I expected: a surface-level treatment of racism, a "startling" revelation that the "color-blind" approach to racial differences is ineffective (duh), and some basic but helpful prompts for how to talk to different ages of children about race.

A bit superficial and behind the curve, but not offensive... until the last section entitled "Why It Matters." Here is a quote from that section of the article:

"Living in an increasingly diverse society - in any kind of multi-ethnic society -- if you hold intolerant beliefs or are fearful of the 'other,' that is going to be deeply stressful," says Marsh [Jason Marsh, author of a book entitled "Are We Born Racist?"]. "Research suggests that that kind of stress can take a toll on your psychological and physical health." ... Also, Marsh says, egalitarian people tend to have more successful careers.

And now it's time for a spin-off of my favorite Saturday Night Live skit, "Really?!!" with Seth & Amy.

REALLY, James Marsh and Parent Map??!! Really, that's why parents should talk to their kids about race and try to eliminate racial prejudice? Because otherwise THEIR precious little child might experience stress or an unsuccessful career? Really? I mean, obviously parents these days can't be bothered to think about how their child's racial ignorance might harm ANOTHER person's child, I mean that's just silly because who cares about other people's kids, right? I mean really. Parents these days just don't have the time and energy to teach their kids things like dignity, kindness, respect, humility, and decency... UNLESS it will also help their particular special child to achieve a less stressful and more sucessful life, because my child's PERSONAL INDIVIDUAL SUCCESS is all that matters, really!!!! Really.

OK I'm done. What do you think (really)?

go play

2011-01-04T15:42:00.000-08:00

Last week Jon was off from work and we took the opportunity to engage as a family in the spiritual discipline of play. OK, so I've never seen 'play' listed as a spiritual discipline, but I think it should be. As far as I understand them, spiritual disciplines are practices which help us take on the person of Jesus Christ in our bodies and minds in order that we may be transformed more and more into his likeness. In my experience, this can happen when we study scripture, pray, fast, serve, confess, and yes -- play.

[These pictures are all from one epic day of play last week -- Lincoln Park, Vashon beach hike, hot chocolate stop at the cabin, and Bellevue Garden D'Lights.]

our christmas letter

2010-12-21T16:57:00.000-08:00

This is the first year since getting married that we haven't sent out a Christmas photo/card/letter. Mostly because we will be sending out an adoption announcement when our son comes home (which we hope will be SOON), and I am way too lazy to send out that many cards twice!

In lieu of an actual letter, here is the blog version. Enjoy!

----

Greetings friends! We hope this letter finds you happy, healthy, and enjoying the season with the ones you love.

2010 was a big year for our family - we tried new things, went new places, met new people, and had our hearts opened, broken, and mended over and over.

Nate started kindergarten this fall and is absolutely loving it! His reading and writing are improving every day and currently one of his favorite pastimes is writing notes to me and leaving them around the house. This year he played T-ball and swam on the summer league swim team. Nate enjoys doing mazes, building train tracks, and playing with his best friend - his brother Dexter.

Speaking of Dexter, he is still cracking us up with crazy antics every day! His preschool teachers have a story for me every time I pick him up. He is still obsessed with Thomas the Train, but also loves puzzles, books, and sidewalk chalk. He gives the best hugs in town and enjoys snuggling with Mommy and wrestling with Daddy.

Jon continues to find his job satisfying and challenging. He regularly gets recognized at work for his great technical ability and strong leadership. I'd brag more but I don't want to embarrass him! He has been serving as an Elder at our church for the past year and a half, as well as leading a search committee to hire our new Director of Worship, Music & the Arts. He also still plays drums a few Sundays a month.

I have been busy as usual, especially since joining our church staff as the Interim Worship & Arts Coordinator last Winter. I planned worship services, coordinated our art gallery, and put together several special events throughout the year. I enjoyed this work, but am happily finished now that we have hired a new director. I still teach parent/child preschool classes once a week and participate in weekly women's Bible study, as well as singing in church regularly.

In October we traveled to Ethiopia as part of our adoption process. It was truly a life-changing experience and we plan to go back as often as possible. Our son, Eba Ezekiel ("Zeke") Ballast, was officially adopted into our family on November 15, 2010! We are now waiting for the US Embassy in Ethiopia to finish processing his visa and passport so we can bring him home, hopefully in early 2011.

God has been good to us and we are so thankful for his blessings, including many of you - our sweet friends and family. (And a shout out to any internet strangers out there too, thanks for reading!)

May the miracle of Christ's incarnation, the glory of his resurrection, and the hope of his coming kingdom fill your hearts with joy and peace this Christmas!

Love,
The Ballast Family

room to breathe

2010-12-13T13:27:00.000-08:00

You gave me room to breathe. --Psalm 31:8b, The Message

I have new space in my life and God is cramming blessings into every square inch of it. Mostly tiny happy things, small but much-needed reminders of my belovedness.

We took the boys to a local paved trail last weekend to give Nate some practice on his bike, sans-training-wheels. It was gray and cold and perfect: a wide-open path on a quiet Northwest morning. Unbeknownst to us there was a crowd of people nearby getting ready to participate in a 10K race along the same route. Just as we finished our ride and turned off the path to go back to our car, hundreds and hundreds of people streamed by us onto the trail we had just vacated. The first raindrops of a massive downpour began to fall; we bundled into the car and headed home.

Last night we left the kids at home with a babysitter and headed out for dinner and a concert. Easy drive, good parking spot, and no wait at our favorite Puerto Rican restaurant: fried plantains and pulled pork to die for. After dinner we walked a few blocks to the concert venue, and ran into the band we were going to see on the street outside (indie-folk duo The Civil Wars). Being a huge nerdy super-fan, of course I had to say hi and gush about how much I love them and how excited I was for the show! Inside we found seats in the front row still available, but within 5 minutes the place was packed. And the show... Ohhh, I am (almost) at a loss for words. Music makes me cry a lot, but it is usually because of what the song means to me. For only the second time in my life, music made me cry by the sheer beauty of it. A wonderful night it was.

The Civil Wars: Joy Williams and John Paul White

My new shirt

This morning I dropped both boys off at school and went home. Sat down. Drank hot chocolate. Read. Listened to my haunted iPod on shuffle (it plays the perfect songs at the perfect times to the point of creepiness). Had room to breathe.

[Also this morning? Drove Dexter to school twice - on our first try I went to get him out and realized he didn't have socks or shoes on. Oh, also dropped a mostly full glass jar of strawberry jam on the kitchen floor and it shattered. It happens.]

After school Nate grabbed his pad of paper and pencil (he's been on a writing kick lately, writing me little notes all day long).

In case you aren't fluent in Kindergarten spelling, it says "You are beautiful."

Thank you. Don't we all need reminding?

doubt

2010-12-04T21:06:00.000-08:00

Nothing in my life has caused me to doubt quite like working for a church.

Though doubt is far from being a popular topic in Christian circles, I have heard a few brave souls bring it up. Mostly I’ve heard people say that it is OK to doubt – that doubt is actually faith’s partner, not its opposite. I’ve heard Christians I deeply respect share their own doubts, or tell stories about valleys in their spiritual lives where they were not sure what they believed. I listened and filed the information away, but to be honest I just couldn’t relate.

Last week I came to the end of my time as the Interim Worship & Arts Coordinator at our church. It’s rather complicated to explain exactly what that job entailed and how I came to be doing it, but the bottom line is that I have been planning our worship services for the past year and a half. Now that I’m done, I can look back and say that it has been one of the most fruitful and growth-filled times of my life – I have learned a ton, done things I never thought I could do, and experienced the Holy Spirit moving in amazing ways.

(But.)

Alongside the growth came wave upon wave of fierce and soul-jarring doubt. Questions whose answers I’ve known for years were suddenly cloudy and unsettling to me. And these weren’t complex, 3rd year seminary questions either – they were more like 3rd grade Sunday school basics: Who is God? What is he like? What does he want? What part do I play? And the one that rang in my head over and over on most Sunday mornings: Does any of this matter?

I sometimes squirmed through services, shamed by my distracted thoughts, weighed down by self-accusation: I’m the one who put this service together and yet I feel like I don’t even know why we’re all here. I’m the last person who should be feeling like this and struggling with these questions… I am failing.

I wonder if being a worship planner (or leader or pastor or preacher) might mean learning to walk the razor’s edge of humility and boldness. Humility, because we must know our ourselves to be wholly incapable of doing anything without God – especially guiding his people in worship. And yet boldness, because we must fully live into the calling of God and actively follow him in order to lead others. This is not an easy line to walk; I sliced my tender feet trying.

Ultimately I struggled to reconcile the scandalous hugeness of my task with the laughable smallness of my person. If God would let someone like me do something as important and, quite frankly, as dangerous as leading his people in worship… what kind of a God could he really be? I know, I know – bring what you have, broken and inadequate as it may be, and God will do the rest: a boy brought a few loaves and fish and Jesus fed 5000, blah blah blah. I know it… but it is possible to know something without believing it.

And now? Now I am done. I can get down from the edge and bandage my feet, stretch out my hands and see that I have grown and changed, I have been blessed and built up. I have been shaken, and the pieces are still settling. But I remember the words I have heard about doubt – I hear them with fresh ears. Doubt is necessary for true faith. Doubt does not separate us from God. Doubt need not be a source of shame or guilt. I believe these things with a deeper conviction now than I ever have before. The questions are still there, but I am not afraid of them. Who is God? He is the one who says it is OK to ask.

a good word

2010-11-29T08:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first day of a new year according to the Church calendar, which begins on the first Sunday of Advent. Although there was no late night champagne or fireworks, it did feel very much like the beginning of a new year for me. The following words are from a song called "Benediction" by Maeve, and I think they work well as a new year's blessing:

May the Lord bless you and keep you
May he shine a light upon your face
May you feel the heat of his glory in your bones
May you know his kindness and his grace

May his love define your ways of living
May you see his face among your friends
May you live your story empowered by his love
May you be comfortable walking in your skin

May you find your worth from your Maker
and live in freedom all your days
May you grow in the sense of who you really are
May his light show you the way

May you know that you have the power
to add beauty and grace into this world
May you discover all your gifts and give them generously
May you listen for God's every word.

I pray these words for you today, and ask that you would do the same for me. Happy New Year!

they said it: thanksgiving

2010-11-26T08:20:00.000-08:00

Dexter: It's Thanksgiving! We should say thank you.

Jon: That's right Dexter -- who do we say thank you to?

Dexter: I don't know... Grandma Boonstra or somebody.

----

Jon told the boys that if they stood still, smiled, and looked at the camera for a good picture then they could throw a snowball at him. It worked!

In fact, it worked so well that I tried to snap a bunch of pictures while I had them. There were, however, diminishing returns over time.

Can we throw a snowball now please?!

[click to enlarge the picture and check out Dexter's face]

cold shots

2010-11-23T10:59:00.001-08:00

thankful

2010-11-18T16:45:00.001-08:00

for old magazines and glue sticks that keep hands and minds busy

for serious faces

for sharing chairs

for my budding photographer

psalm 131

2010-11-10T15:05:00.000-08:00

My heart is not proud, LORD,
my eyes are not haughty;

I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.

But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.

Israel, put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.

anticipating amazing

2010-10-19T13:52:00.000-07:00

We leave for Ethiopia in less than 48 hours. Everyone we know who has been anywhere in Africa tells us that going there was life-changing for them. It is a really strange to anticipate a life-changing event. I know I will be different when I come home, but I don't know exactly how I will be different. What parts of who I am will change? How will my post-Africa self view my current pre-Africa self? Will I ever learn to ask questions that aren't intrinsically egocentric? All of this remains to be seen.

I'm writing about these questions here because I'm not sure what will happen with this blog in the future. No matter what happens in Ethiopia, I am pretty sure I will still love to write when I come back. Still, there's a good chance this will be my last post here for at least a few weeks, so I didn't want to leave ya'll wondering. If you want to follow along on our trip and the ensuing adoption adventures, there's a link to that blog on the side bar.

In the meantime, Xavier Ibarket. (God bless you in Amharic, the national language of Ethiopia)

love wins

2010-10-09T08:01:00.001-07:00

Life is so fragile. We make all these plans. We have all these expectations and goals and dreams. We say things like, "Maybe in 10 years I'll do [this or that]."

We hope for success. We grieve failure. We worry. We think we have it all when our interest rate is good, our cars are paid off, and our portfolio is gaining. We breathe a sigh of relief when our kids get good grades, our family holiday gatherings are drama-free, and our annual performance review comes in above-average.

All of this is as sure as our next breath. Can you guarantee that the next time your medulla oblongata tells your lungs to expand they'll do what they're told? And if they do, can you guarantee that fresh, life-giving air will fill them? No. None of us can.

If all we have to hope for is what stares us in the face every day -- our home, our job, our spouse, our friends, our family, our sense of self-worth -- we are [and I really want to cuss here but I won't]... screwed. If this life is all there is, our story is always a tragedy. Death wins.

Thank God our hope is not here. Thank God our hope is not in our next breath. Thank God death does not win. Out of love for us and a desire to bring glory to his Father, Jesus Christ conquered death once and for all, transforming our lives from a series of meaningless inhales and exhales into an eternal gift. Our hope rests in that transformation, in that grace, in that free offer of true, redeemed, everlasting life in the kingdom of God. There is absolutely nothing -- no accomplishment, no failure, no decision, no tragedy, nothing -- that can change this gift of God on which our hope securely stands. Love wins.

too late, too soon.

2010-10-07T16:14:00.000-07:00

Carly Henley, 1990-2010

I was going to finish my half-written post about how completely insane and overwhelming things are right now as we get ready to go to Ethiopia in 2 weeks. I was going to try a new timed poetry writing experiment today on the blog. I was going to gather some sweet quotes from my youngest and snap a cute picture to go alongside.

I can't do those things... I can't do much today. A mother, father, and step-father lost their daughter yesterday. Four young people lost their sister. Many, many others lost a cherished friend when 20 year old Carly Henley, a UW junior, an aspiring singer, an absolutely beautiful girl inside and out, took her own life yesterday.

If I could summarize the collective sentiment I have heard today it would be, "We had no idea."

My friend Chelsea is on my short list of awesome people I am privileged to know. She lives in another state and isn't connected to this story at all, but just so happened to have posted about teen suicide on her blog yesterday. She ends her post with these words, words we all need, words I will join her in saying:

you are loved. you, who are reading this post. you are loved and you do not walk through this world alone. whether you believe me or not the God of the universe, the one who thought up the ocean and whispered the stars into being loves you. and His love is steady- lean into it. His love saved me when no one else and nothing else could. he takes you, gay or straight, black or white, fat or thin. he accepts you in all your varying states of brokenness. he holds you. he loves you. but just in case that feels a little too far away, i want you to know something else: i love you too. my heart may not be as big as His, but it is big enough for you. if you are reading this and you need a soft place to land here it is. if you need someone to talk to, here i am. you are valued and worthy and loved. that's all. pretty simple.

sabbath-keeping: a visual liturgy

2010-09-22T20:01:00.001-07:00

These are photos from a vacation we took last month. It was a beautiful time of resting, playing, reading, talking, and being together: in other words, sabbath. [Disclaimer: One of our children is slightly more, shall we say, expressive than the other. We love them both, but end up taking more pictures of the younger.]

Call to Worship

The Greeting

Prayer of Invocation

Song of Praise

Confession

Assurance of Forgiveness

Passing of the Peace

Psalm

Reading

Lament

Silent Prayer

The Lord's Supper

The Benediction

The Sending

they said it

2010-09-17T18:55:00.001-07:00

[after getting PJs on tonight]

Dexter: Mommy, I love you. Aaaand... [leans over and gives me a kiss.]

Me: Ohhh sweetie, I love you too!

Dexter: Mommy, if we be together, we don't even need to have any snacks.

Knowing how much this kid loves snacks, this is probably the sweetest thing he could ever say to me!

5 reasons vacuuming is like therapy

2010-09-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

1. It creates space to say what you're really thinking and feeling without worrying about who is listening.

2. It offers a time of respite from the noise and chaos of daily life.

3. When you get done you generally feel better about yourself.

4. You can't multi-task: you have to be fully present to the matter at hand.

5. It doesn't make your whole house clean, but it is a good place to start.

big days

2010-09-13T13:41:00.000-07:00

We've had some big days around here.

1st Day of Kindergarten

a wee bit excited we were.

3rd birthday

OK this cake picture needs a disclaimer: normally I am the mom who bakes a cake from a mix, slaps some frosting on, writes 'happy birthday' across it and calls it good. When I deviate from this, it is usually disastrous. [Case in point: for Nate's 3rd birthday I tried to bake a 'healthy' apple cake. It weighed approximately 30 pounds and was so dense that parents had to use a fork and knife to cut it into bite-sized pieces for their toddlers. Mortifying.] But this Thomas cupcake train seemed idiot-proof enough for me, so I went for it. And mark the tape, folks - I managed to not screw it up!

1st day of preschool

On the way home I tried to ask Dexter about school.

Me: So how was school?
Dexter: Good.
Me: Did you meet some new friends?
Dexter: I don't want to talk about it.

Um... I'm sorry, I ordered the toddler but you seem to have brought me the teenager by mistake. What in the world will he be saying in the car on the way home from 8th grade?!

they said it: football season

2010-09-07T18:42:00.000-07:00

Last night we started what will probably become a tradition around here: Family Football Night. Here are some bits and pieces of the dialogues it produced...

---

Jon: Nate and Dexter, wanna watch football with me?

Nate: You said we couldn't watch anything else today.

Jon: Well... we can bend the rules for football. [Gets the kids settled in the armchair with him.] Ok Dexter, the man on the left is Kirk Herbstreit...

---

Boise State was playing Virginia Tech, but as Jon explained the game to the kids it was easier to just call them the blue team and the black team. Which was fine until a Tech blitz...

Jon: Look at all those black players!! Um... I mean... black-jerseyed gentlemen!

---

Dexter [after seeing the Tech mascot]: Hey! I just saw Red Robin!

---

Nate: Daddy, when they all get together and crouch down are they telling a secret of what they should do?

---

Jon: OK, the referee threw a flag because that was an illegal tackle. The guy was already out of bounds, so the tackle wasn't allowed --

Nate [interrupting, in a teenager tone of voice]: Daddy, I already know what illegal means.

---

Nate: Look Daddy, it's a helmet with a bunco on it!

Jon: Um... you mean a bronco?

Nate: Oh. Yeah, a bronco!

---

Dexter: Mommy, someday will you watch me in that game? Someone will tackle me I think. I will run to the finish line!

the flip side

2010-09-03T14:48:00.000-07:00

How many books, news stories, TV specials, etc feature stories about one individual with vision/endurance/luck/a good idea who made a huge difference in the world? We love these stories right? I just read a great story like that (Three Cups of Tea - excellent, highly recommend it). Good stuff, inspiring, yes yes. It's true, of course - one person can change the world.

For some reason that possibly only intensive therapy will someday uncover, I have a nasty habit of taking something good and true and twisting it in my brain to make it oppressive and harmful. (On second thought, perhaps I can skip therapy as this sounds a lot like Genesis 3 and therefore is probably just a normal part of being human. Hooray, no co-pay! Then again, therapy might be just the ticket to navigating the tricky parts of being human... Hooray, insurance!) Anyway, here's how I've twisted this: if A) some people have managed, by doing just the right thing at the right time, to make incredibly significant and positive changes in horrible situations, then B) I, being an individual, should be able to do the right thing at the right time to make significant positive changes in the difficult situations within my sphere of influence.

The problem is that B simply does not follow A. Just because an individual can theoretically "make all the difference", that does not mean that if I see a problem that I necessarily am the one who must figure out the right thing to do and do it [See also: hero complex]. I've been stressing out about a bunch of different situations over which I have, at most, only a perception of control, and feeling a sense of obligation that it is up to me to fix things, and then a corresponding guilt that I can't seem to do this. But if B doesn't follow from A, then what am I freaking out about?

I find it fascinating that a good, true, and positive message can have a flip side that holds so much power over me. Did anyone ever say, "Haley you better fix this! True, you're only one individual and its a complicated situation involving many people, but remember: one person can make a difference!" Of course not. But I subconsciously believed it anyway, which makes me wonder: what other messages have powerful flip sides?

"You can be anything you want when you grow up."
"He got what he deserved."
"Everything happens for a reason."
"It will all work out in the end."

I'm not saying we shouldn't ever promote these ideas, or that the positive outcomes never outweigh the 'flip side' messages. I'm just noticing that how we spin and interpret these messages can sometimes hold more power over us than the messages themselves. Have you experienced this? What do you think about the messages above and how they could be (mis)interpreted?

almond joy & mounds

2010-08-27T20:04:00.000-07:00

because...

sometimes you feel like a

sometimes you

they said it

2010-08-15T15:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a fresh batch of keepers from my little dudes (and some fun unrelated pictures too).

----

This one goes out to our Canadian family...

Nate (all excited to fill up the baby pool): OK, I'll be the hoser!

----

The next few all relate to last week's Vacation Bible School at church. The theme of the week was outer space, as I'm sure you could have figured out from the following...

Nate (very serious): I want to go to space. At VBS they said we could go to space... but they said we have to have moon boots. Mom, do we have any moon boots?

[later that night, during prayers]

Nate: Dear Jesus, please let the store have moon boots.

----

We are headed off to visit Jon's family soon and Nate has literally been counting down the days. I was trying to demonstrate this to a friend, but apparently he had VBS on the brain.

Me: Where are we going in 7 days?
Nate: I don't know.
Me: C'mon Nate, you've been talking about this every day! Where are we going in 7 days?
Nate (again, very serious): Space?

----

The church was decorated with all kinds of space paraphernalia for the occasion, including a blow-up alien creature that caught Dexter's eye.

Jon: Whatcha doin Dexter?
Dexter: I'm just looking at this scary fellow.

----

lily me

2010-08-14T19:57:00.000-07:00

The following happened a few minutes ago. It also might just be me in a nutshell.

---

Haley spies a bunch of beautiful star-gazer lilies on her parents' front deck.

Haley leans in close to smell the lilies.

Haley experiences a moment of aromatic bliss.

Haley catches her reflection in the window and notices that during said moment of bliss, she has managed to get lily pollen all over her face.

Haley congratulates herself for always having wipes on hand.

Haley wipes her face.

Haley tosses the used wipe in nearby trash bin.

Haley notices that the bin is not intended for trash, and is partially filled with yard waste.

Haley knows the wipe is not biodegradable and feels compelled to retrieve it.

Haley balances the package of wipes in her elbow crook while lifting the trash can lid and trying to fetch the wayward wipe.

Haley loses grip on package of wipes and it too topples into yard waste bin.

---

Yep: drinking beauty, getting messy, saving face, mixing up, and dropping stuff... that about covers it.

a new list

2010-08-13T13:46:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to get a lot done today.

I was going to Target to get all the boys' school supplies.

I was getting the oil changed in the van.

I was taking Dexter for a much-needed hair cut.

I was finishing up a few things for work.

Yeah... I didn't do any of that.

Before I became a mom, there was almost nothing more satisfying to me in life than checking off everything on my to-do list. I still love it, but slowly, slowly my kids have taught me to change my 'list' to fit our lifestyle and priorities. Some items have been removed from the list altogether for the foreseeable future (eyebrow wax? pedicure? hmm, not any time soon). Other stuff stays on there but gets bumped down in importance (showering, for example... just kidding... kind of). But the best change in my to-do list has been all the things my kids have added to it: laugh, tickle, read books, be spontaneous, stop for snacks, tell stories, pick blackberries, take a nap, sing a silly song, the list goes on.

Today the sun was shining when we woke up.

Today we laid in bed together and whispered secrets.

Today we put yesterday's blackberry harvest in our oatmeal.

Today we said yes to a last-minute playdate.

Today I drank coffee on my friend's front porch while the kiddos ran circles around us.

Today we ran through the fountains by the library.

Today we snuggled on the couch and read books.

Today we did everything on our list.

Disclaimer: These pictures are actually from our trip to the fountains last month... today I was too busy enjoying my friend's company and keeping track of all our little ones (6 between us) to take pictures!

they said it

2010-07-28T20:39:00.000-07:00

It is well-documented that our 2 year old son loves pretty girls and is a hopeless flirt (see above: a flirting collage of him and our friend Nicole, who visited earlier this month). Usually I just think it's cute, but yesterday at the pool it got out of control:

[Dexter, playing in his favorite spot on the steps. Pretty young teen-aged girl walks past him to get into the pool.]

Dexter: Hey! Look what I can do! [flips under the railing and grins up at her]

Girl: Wow, that's really cool!

Dexter: [follows her along the side of the pool, still grinning and talking to her - I can't hear what he's saying so I walk over to them]

Me: Why don't you ask her name?

Dexter: What's your name?

Girl: Natalie. What's yours?

Dexter: I'm Dexter.

Natalie: Well, Dexter I think I'm going to go swim with my friends now. Nice to meet you!

Dexter (apparently desperate to keep the conversation going): I have something in my pants!

My reaction: nervous laughter, think Brandt reacting to bikini-clad Bunny on the Big Lebowski. Ahhh, that's marvelous.

-------

[on the way home from the pool. Nate is quiet for a few minutes, then pipes up with this input on our future family size.]

Nate: Mommy, when are we going to have enough kids for Red Rover?

Not for awhile, dude, but we are working on it. :)

I did not ask them to pose. This is exactly what they looked like at the red light when I turned around, so I had to snap a picture.

the art of hospitality

2010-07-27T14:41:00.000-07:00

Last weekend Jon and I were treated to dessert in the home of a couple from our church. Frank and Sue are simply gems and we had a lovely evening together. The view of downtown Seattle from their Alki condo was incredible, the strawberry shortcake was great, the coffee was perfect, and the conversation was lively... but my favorite part of the hospitality they offered us was the art on their walls. From the moment you step in the door, you are walking into their stories, richly and beautifully told by the works that hang in their home.

---
Frank's brother married a Brazilian woman after the War. Three exquisite oil portraits in the entryway bear the faces of her maid and the so-called street girls who lived in her city.

---
Sue cared for her ailing father for many years before he passed away. She kept a special account of funds earmarked for his medical needs. When he died, the account had just enough money left in it to purchase a large watercolor painting of the Washington coast. The small silhouette in the bottom left corner reminds Sue of her dad; he loved to walk the beach by himself.

---
Above the fireplace is a collograph by Sandra Bowden. Words of scripture from 1 Corinthians 13 form the backdrop of the piece, which Frank and Sue purchased to mark their 60th wedding anniversary. 60th. Wedding. Anniversary.

---
Sue tells me that the colorful abstract piece in the hallway reminds her of creation, with its bursts of green and blue. One of our mutual friends painted it, another man from our church now in his eighties. She agrees to let the church borrow it for our upcoming in-house art exhibit.

---
Frank and Sue showed us that true hospitality is more than making a great dessert and good decaf: it is inviting others to share in your stories. If there is anything better than art to facilitate that sharing, I sure can't think of it.

[Side note: Jon has been serving on a committee at church with Sue and loves to tell the story of their first meeting. Each committee member was asked to give a brief testimony of their Christian life and Sue started by saying, "Well, I met Jesus in the 'thirties." No, not her thirties. THE 'thirties. Classic.]

they said it: deep thoughts, by nate

2010-07-22T14:10:00.000-07:00

My five-year-old has been thinking some deep thoughts lately. I love it.

-----
[at breakfast the other day.]

Nate: Mom, when are we going back to California?
Me: Not for awhile. Why?
Nate: I don't want everything to change before we go back.
Me: What would change?
Nate: Everything. [pause] The thing I really don't want to change is Splash Mountain.

waiting in line with friends at splash mountain in june.

-----
[walking a trail near our house. for the uninitiated, salmonberries are similar to raspberries and are native to the NW.]

Nate: There are no salmonberries today.
Me: Yes there are, I see one way up there.
Nate: That's too high for anyone to reach. [pause] Why would God make a salmonberry grow where no one can reach it?

after his last swim meet of the season.

----
OK one little Dexter story too:

This morning he was staring at himself in the back of his spoon and singing "I love you! I love you! I love you!" Yeah, no self-esteem issues there.

this is normal at our house.

summer goal

2010-07-15T13:46:00.001-07:00

Nothing against my dining room table, but when real, honest-to-goodness, popsicle-eating, shorts-wearing, sprinkler-running summer finally made it to this corner of the country, we stopped eating at it. I've made it my warm-weather ambition to serve more meals outside than in: at the pool, on the T-ball field, in the backyard, anywhere the sunshine finds us hungry.

This morning we had a few guests -- all the more reason to have breakfast outside.

Take your time, Toby.

P.S. If you read between the lines of this post you find out: 1. My cooking skills are lacking (If you can serve it in the car on the way to Target, can you really call it a meal? Um... in my world, Yes.) and 2. I'm lazy (eating outside = no crumbs to vacuum and no table to wipe). :)

good pain, bad pain

2010-07-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

During the first trimester of my pregnancy with Nate I remember telling a friend, "Of course I'm getting an epidural! I don't need to be a hero - I mean, you'd get novocaine at the dentist right?" After a few childbirth prep classes I had changed my tune and decided to prepare some strategies for natural pain-management (although, for the record, I was not opposed to an epidural if that's what ended up being best for me and baby). Why the switch? My perspective changed because the classes tapped into a lesson I had learned years earlier as a swimmer with chronic over-use injuries: "good" pain = keep going, "bad" pain = stop. When I learned to approach the pain of labor as "good" pain, I could put to use the strategies I had developed as an athlete to keep myself in the zone, focused, and intent on reaching my goal.

[Disclaimer: Everyone's approach to childbirth is unique and everyone's labor & delivery is different -- NO judgment here whatsoever, just sharing my own experiences and perspective.]

Anyway, I'm wondering if a lot of our struggles as human beings can be traced back to this good pain/bad pain dichotomy. Aren't a lot of the messes we find ourselves in related to our inability to decipher between these two types of circumstances? Sometimes I experience pain in the form of frustration, opposition, confusion, apathy, etc and it makes me want to stop, when deep down I know I'm supposed to keep going. Other times I feel overwhelmed, exhausted, anxious, self-critical, etc but I don't give myself permission to stop, even though that's exactly what I need to do. If I could step back and evaluate whether I am facing a 'good pain: buckle down, grit your teeth, and stay in it' situation or a 'bad pain: stop, give yourself grace, and allow room for healing and recovery' situation, I'm guessing it would prove to be pretty helpful. No time like the present...

Today I need to keep going. The bad attitude I'm indulging does not qualify as bad pain, so its time to put one foot in front of the other, find reasons to be thankful (of which I have plenty), and keep doing what God is asking me to do. How about you? Do you need to stop or keep going today? (Or maybe both?)

backyard naptime laziness

2010-07-09T13:05:00.000-07:00

I want to sit so still
that the trees forget I'm here
and go back to whispering gossip
in their rustling dialects.
I want to stay quiet
until the robin resumes
his halted hopping,
stopping now and again
to be sure he's alone.
I'll hold my breath
to see the rippled grass
without my breeze across it,
moving with the earth
like everything does when we aren't looking.

driveway labyrinth

2010-07-01T17:01:00.001-07:00

A few days ago the boys and I were dropping something off at a local church and we noticed a large labyrinth painted on the cement ground of the church courtyard. We couldn't resist a few trips around the "maze", as the kids called it. Since we've also been in the midst of a serious sidewalk chalk phase, Nate asked if I would draw him his own labyrinth in our driveway. Our driveway was completely full of chalk graffiti already, so we had to wait for a rainy day to wash away a space. Today was that day.

Here are just a few reasons why I love labyrinths:

+When two or more people walk a labyrinth together, even though they are all going to the same place they are almost always walking in different directions.

+You can't rush or else you get dizzy.

+There are no decisions or wrong choices, you just keep following the path.

+Sometimes it seems like the path is going the wrong way based on where you are supposed to end up, but it always ends up being right.

+They are ineffective by definition -- nearly the exact opposite of the shortest distance between two points.

+They are full of intentional 180-degree turns.

Our driveway labyrinth kept the boys busy for quite a while. Here are some things I overheard them say while they played:

"I don't know where I'm going!"

"I'm lost."

"You have to just follow, follow, follow."

"I'm not where I'm going yet."

"Which way do I go?"

"Just keep going."

"I'm on my way!"

"This is taking a long, long time."

"You're back where you started."

"I got there just in time."

june twenty three

2010-06-24T08:54:00.000-07:00

Photos by Nate, Dexter, & Haley Ballast (I'll let you figure out who took what).

if I was going to blog today...

2010-06-22T13:01:00.001-07:00

I might talk about the incredible new art exhibit at John Knox.

Or maybe the way dialogue in the blogosphere has kicked my butt this week.

Or how verses 5 and 19 of James 1 are helping me recover from the aforementioned butt-kicking.

Or the new trick I discovered to deal with the major bedtime drama we've been dealing with lately.

Or why I get crazy-passionate about something new every 2 years on the dot.

But just-ripe raspberries and teeming tide pools and long-awaited (partly) sunny skies are way more important today than blogging.

So long...

not done

2010-06-10T21:39:00.000-07:00

"So are you done after this?"

That's a question I started hearing when I was pregnant with Dexter. I'm afraid I probably looked at people who asked me that like they were from Mars because it caught me so off guard every time, but now that I've lived in Mayberry a bit longer I'm starting to get it. (OK, so I live in Normandy Park. Same difference.) People here have 2 kids. Period. That's what you do. I was at a little birthday party with the boys today and everyone. had. two. kids. Everyone.

For the record, I find absolutely nothing wrong with having two kids. There are a lot of good and legitimate reasons why two children might be just the right number for a given family. But as I looked around at the party and realized how crazy I sounded telling the other moms that (shocker!) we might even want another child after we adopt our 3rd, it got me thinking about why exactly we didn't want to stop at two. There are dozens of reasons, but they all center around one main concept: we want to provide our children with the best opportunities in life that we can give them, and having only two children would significantly limit our ability to do that. It might sound backwards, but we actually believe that, for us, fewer children means fewer opportunities.

Don't get me wrong, if we end up having a large family our kids will definitely miss out on some stuff. They might not get to do ballet and soccer and community theater. They might not have their own rooms. They might have to take out loans to pay for college.

But if we only have two kids, how will we provide them with the opportunity to grow up with more than one sibling, more than one different kind of person to help them see the diversity in how people think and behave? How will they learn to cooperate (and scheme and cause mischief) with multiple personality types? How will we teach them to love others, even others who drive you crazy and knock over your block towers? Some of this can happen with just one other sibling... but we dream about our kids playing football or Capture the Flag without even needing to have friends over (though they'd be welcome too!). We dream about our children learning to love people who are not like them, whether they share their genetic material or not. We dream about our children learning about and even visiting parts of the world they wouldn't have known existed except that their brother was born there. We dream about giving our children opportunities in life to taste and see and know the deep love of Jesus, not just through their parents but through their siblings as well.

I know we're naive and idealistic. I know having a large family is hard, especially when the kids are little. But the bottom line is that we believe God has called us to give our children our best, so that they can be their best. We want them to grow and develop into the men (and hopefully women... someday I do want a girl!) that God made them to be. It's going to be hard and it's not going to turn out exactly as we're picturing, but that's OK. We're all in good hands.

late spring in seattle: a tale of two days

2010-06-08T18:17:00.001-07:00

It's 50 degrees, but it's also Memorial Day weekend. With winter jackets and good ol' Pacific Northwest toughness we're off to Vashon Island.

We took the boat. It was freezing and pelting rain on the way over, but we put on our brave faces and made it there safe and soaked.

I made a mess...

But it's OK because we're at the cabin!

The way home was warmer and drier.

Good driving, Daddy.
----------------------------

It's a Tuesday, but it's also the first warm and dry day for weeks. Let's go boys!

We took the ferry and then hit the trail.

Dexter gives the crows a taste of their own medicine.

This is the first picture I've taken where the mountain appears actual-size.

We walked down to the swing...

...and then all the way up to the point.

Nate took some pictures of me and Dex.

Dexter practiced for his senior pictures, only 16 years away.

We left room.

notes on a garden

2010-06-06T15:16:00.000-07:00

Since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse. -Romans 1:20

---
I planted raspberry canes 2 years ago. I have done almost nothing to tend them, apart from weeding them a few times a year. They are taller than me and spreading as far as I'll let them, with big green berries already promising a bumper crop this year.

---
The last couple of years I've had good results with simple green leaf lettuce. Wanting to spice it up a little this year, I bought seeds for a gourmet lettuce mix. I tilled the soil, planted, watered, and waited. They sprouted and grew and looked delicious, a beautiful variety of leaf shapes and colors... But the lettuce tasted horrible, harsh and bitter and mostly inedible.

---
About 2 weeks ago I planted 8 rows of corn in a large square patch of the garden. If I stand at the edge of the patch and look down I can't see anything sprouting. It just looks like a square of dirt with a few weeds here and there. But if I squat down and train my eyes slowly around a small section of ground I can see 1/2"-1" spears of bright green seedlings poking out of the soil.

---
The arugula starts I planted in early April looked beautiful for several weeks, but I never got around to harvesting them much. My other lettuces weren't ready yet, and an all-arugula salad is pretty intense, so I just let them grow. They went to seed this week. Most lettuce varieties will usually produce throughout the spring and into summer, but apparently that's only when they are harvested regularly.

---
The prune and apple trees have lost their blossoms. If I stand still and focus my eyes on the branches of the prune tree, I can begin to make out tic-tac sized prunes exactly the same color as the tree's leaves. The apple tree, however, is in the barren stage between flowers and fruit: the blooms are gone and there are not yet any visible signs that apples are coming.

best laid plans, in which jon teaches the boys about anniversaries

2010-05-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

8 years ago today

This morning Jon ducked out the door before the boys and I were up. His plan was to dash to Starbucks and back and surprise me with my favorite drink when I woke up, but it took a bit longer than expected. By the time he got back with my tall nonfat no-whip peppermint mocha (yep, I'm high maintenance like that), the boys were already up and sitting at the table eating cereal. Despite Jon's best efforts to explain that "anniversary" means a day celebrating our marriage, we are pretty sure they now think it is the exact opposite...

[when Jon walked in]

Nate: Daddy! Where did you sleep??

[later, before Jon left for work]

Dexter: Daddy, did you come here just to get dressed?

they said it

2010-05-14T15:18:00.000-07:00

With two little boys, one of whom is in the (long, arduous, and as-yet-unsuccessful) process of potty training, there is a fair amount of poop-related talk around our house. Most of it drives me nuts but some of it is pretty funny...

---

[I love how literal 2 year olds can be.]

Me: (changing Dexter) Ughhh Dex, I am so tired of you pooping in your pants.
Dexter: Go in your bed then.

---

[Jon's parents were here last week and the boys made Grandpa tell them "Jack and the Beanstalk" over and over all week...]

Nate: Mommy! Dexter pooped!
Dexter: No I didn't.
Nate: Yes he did Mom, I smell it!
Dexter: No, that was the blood of an Englishman.

The pool opened yesterday!

like to like

2010-05-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

I have a growing list of Things I Would Do Research On If I Were A Sociologist. Here's the latest addition to the list: What does the "like" button on facebook say about our sociological culture? I'm not sure how I would set up the study exactly or what my hypothesis would be, but I think it is an interesting question.

I am an admitted social media addict, but I only use facebook for a few specific things: spying on people (c'mon you do it too), keeping up with 3-4 close friends/family who use fb as their primary means of communication, and sharing selected posts from my blog. Lately I have also used it to post updates on our adoption, which has been a bit of a roller coaster lately. The adoption posts helped me notice a pattern that I'm guessing is probably fairly universal on fb and in 'real life': people like good news and happy stuff, but don't know what to do with sad news and hard stuff.

It is easy to hit "like" on a post about your old roommate getting a 2nd interview for her dream job. It is a lot harder to know what to say to someone marking the anniversary of their grandmother's death. (And a "dislike" button would certainly not help at all.)

This is part of why I don't usually put anything heavy or significant on facebook: people don't know what to do with it and I don't really feel the need to share anyway. But since our adoption story is something that many of our friends and family members are following via facebook, I feel a desire to share what is happening - good or bad. Our good news post had 21 "like" hits and 27 comments, plus a half dozen related wall posts. Our bad news post had 4 comments. This obviously doesn't mean people only care about the good stuff... I think we just don't know what to do with it.

I'm still chewing on why this matters to me, why I think it has deeper implications for our culture and the way we engage in relationships with one another. I'd love to hear your thoughts...

was it you?

2010-05-08T12:09:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get this feeling like someone is praying for me. This morning it was while I sat in the warm sun with hot coffee and watched my children play. It was one of those moments where the colors and sounds are so intense and vivid that it almost doesn't feel real - sky, flowers, birdsong, laughter, new leaves, sidewalk chalk... I took these pictures on my phone but they don't do the scene justice. To whoever you are, thanks for praying.

beach spring

2010-05-07T14:09:00.000-07:00

Mimi & Grandpa are visiting this week. We followed the sun to Seahurst Beach and had an amazing morning. [And yes, I'm still obsessed with the Hipstamatic app on my phone.]

mercy blow

2010-05-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've shared any poems here. Seems like it's about time.

I wrote this one a few weeks ago, while this was happening. Then I forgot about it when this happened. And now I'm revisiting it because this is happening.

Mercy Blow

If you’re going to break my heart, just smash it.
Really.
Hit it hard, one fell swoop to crush completely -
beaten beyond recognition,
no pieces big enough to hint at what it looked like whole,
hopeful.

But no you don’t, do you. No.
Not a stomping, crashing, merciless destroyer, you.
You – a child,
sweet and pensive, with a dandelion gone to seed.
Too slow and thoughtful to give one longed-for
gust of blowing breath – no –
instead you pluck a flimsy fragile wisp,
and then another, each in its own time, carefully and kindly,
killing me.

new to me hymnody

2010-04-29T15:01:00.000-07:00

I didn't grow up singing a lot of hymns, but over the last few years they have become a integral part of how I worship God. As much as I love the old classics (Be Thou My Vision, Great Is Thy Faithfulness, How Great Thou Art, etc), some of my very favorites have been written in the last decade.

Here are three albums of hymns that I've been listening to and loving this month. Some are new, some are old, some are old words with new music -- all are good!

In Feast or Fallow
Sandra McCracken

Help My Unbelief
Red Mountain Music

Hymns II
Page CXVI

Download Hymns I by Page CXVI for FREE this week only! If you're in the Seattle area and don't have big plans for Pentecost already (5/30), come to John Knox Presbyterian Church at 9 AM, 10:45 AM or 7 PM for Pentecost worship services led by Page CXVI.

playing worship hooky

2010-04-27T15:52:00.001-07:00

This past weekend I went on a women's retreat with a few friends from my church and a few hundred strangers. I had a great weekend connecting with people, enjoying beautiful scenery, spending good alone time with God, and having other people cook for me. It was lovely.

However... the actual program the retreat offered left me cold. (Literally. As in, I stood outside without a jacket in 45 degree weather for at least an hour because I found it preferable to what was going on in the auditorium at the time.) Here's the question I wrestled with over the weekend and continue to wrestle with now: If we are to worship God at all times, in all we do, and with all we are... how do we deal with forms, styles, and contents of corporate worship gatherings that clash with either our theological leanings or our aesthetic sensibilities or, in the case of last weekend, both?

I felt (and still feel) uncomfortable and defensive about my decision to skip out on parts of the program. On the one hand, I don't like admitting that I felt unable to worship God in spirit and truth in the midst of the offered program. On the other hand, I do believe strongly that how we worship matters, and therefore I couldn't force myself to engage in something that doesn't line up with my understanding of how God has called us to worship Him.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences on this topic. What do you do when you find yourself in a corporate worship experience that makes you want to run for the hills??

iphone photo fun

2010-04-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

I am pretty sure my phone still works as a device by which I can communicate audibly with another person... but its other functions (like the camera) are much more valuable to me most of the time. I love being able to capture the goofy stuff that happens in our daily lives without saying "Stay just like that, Mommy has to go grab the camera!" Sure, they're not the greatest pictures ever taken, but they will help me remember what 'a day in the life' was like at this stage of motherhood. I mean, I won't always walk by the bathroom and see a scene like this:

...or pirate face contests at the breakfast table

...or epic swing and stroller experiences

...or strawberry shortcake whipped cream beards.

market day in pictures

2010-04-16T14:32:00.001-07:00

on the train.

pike place salmon face.

ferry watching.

milk mustache contest.

ridin' the pig. (sorry i cut off your face, pig.)

headed home.

sleepy train.

big fun, small haul.

[Photos courtesy of the Hipstamatic app for iPhone]

they said it

2010-04-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

(No connection to this post, just a classic Dexter face.)

I'm reading "Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?" to the boys before bed. I get to the peacock page...

Dexter: Mommy, what's a peacock?

Me: (pointing to the picture) It's this big bird with all the pretty-colored feathers.

Dexter: How does THAT happen??

Pretty fair question I guess.

----

The kids and I are at a new friend's house. She has cooked us a beautiful traditional Ethiopian meal and we are all eating.

Me: (to the hostess) Oh wow, my husband is going to be so jealous that we are eating all this delicious food!

Dexter: I ate a lot of jealous when I was sick Mommy!

Jello, buddy. That was jello.

----

After asking me several pressing theological questions, Nate thought for a minute and summarized my responses like this:

"So, God is God... and Jesus. And Jesus is Jesus... and God. There are two names but they are connected?"

I think he gets it better than I do.

----

Nate's prayer from a few nights ago:

"Thank you God for my brother. Thank you that I have clean water. Thank you that I have a mommy and a daddy. Amen."

new art

2010-04-06T20:42:00.000-07:00

Windmill, After Van Gogh by Chris Stiles

This week I am working on installing a new art exhibit at church. It is a 38-piece collection of work by an artist in our congregation, Chris Stiles. Chris uses ballpoint pen, permanent marker, and pencil on paper, grocery bags, post-it notes, blank pages of books and whatever other clean spaces he can get his hands on. My favorite things about Chris' work are his use of color and his perspective. He tends toward bright and vibrant colors that highlight the beauty of the natural world -- to me, his work seems to capture those fleeting moments in nature when we see God's glory fully unveiled in his creation. His vision and perspective are also intriguing to me, as he often portrays objects with outlined shapes and contours that strike me as surprising and sometimes unusual.

Chris was diagnosed with autism over 35 years ago. He has limited communication and social awareness. Chris began drawing as a child after attending a special program for children with developmental delays. His first drawing was of scenes along the way to a camp for special needs chilren at Mt. Hood; to this day he often draws a small, stylized picture of Mt. Hood in the corner of his drawings, marking its significance in his life. It is not uncommon for Chris to labor over a drawing and then continue to mark on the paper until it is completely covered with black ink, or to finish it and immediately ball it up and throw it into the fire.

I happen to think that Chris' art stands on its own, apart from its distinction as being made by a man with autism. However autism is a fundamental part of Chris' story and it does make an impact, not only on what Chris creates, but also on how his creations are received. I love the fact that his work is absolutely, positively, categorically devoid of pretense and ego. He is not trying to be a particular kind of artist or make a particular kind of art for a particular purpose. He is just being who God made him to be. The result is a body of work that is a particular kind of art and can serve a particular purpose, but not because he means for it to do so. Rather because the God who made Chris enabled him to create beautiful art that glorifies Himself and His good creation.

Check out Chris' website here, and come see his art on display at John Knox Presbyterian Church, April 11-May 30.

Matterhorn, by Chris Stiles

they said it

2010-04-02T09:31:00.000-07:00

Dexter, watching Ice Age and marveling at Sid the Sloth: "He walks in the snow... without any boots!"

---

We had been talking about our adoption at the dinner table. After a pause in the conversation, Nate asked, "When our new brother or sister comes home, will they turn into a Ballast boy or girl?"

---

Nate and his buddy Sam were playing in our living room, sorting through all their Easter candy loot from the egg hunt at preschool. After lots of exclamations about different kinds of candy, Nate turns to Sam and says, "Sam, did you know that Easter is not just about candy? Yeah. Easter is really about Jesus." Preach it, kiddo!

Opening an Easter package from Mimi & Grandpa

---

Last night on Maundy Thursday our church service included an opportunity for foot-washing. Jon, Nate, and I got to wash each other's feet (Dexter was in the nursery). Nate thought it was the most exciting thing he'd ever done and couldn't stop grinning the whole time. Looking at his smiling face as I poured the water over his feet, I knew God was telling me: Love and serve your child, and you will be a delight to him. It was a special time for our family. When I was tucking the kids in that night, Dexter asked "Mommy, did you wash the feet?" When I told him we had, he gave me a big frown and whined, "But Mommy! I want you to wash MY feet!!" I just thought it was so funny that both kids were so into it without really knowing the significance... Maybe we'll make it a family tradition on Maundy Thursday so they can learn more about what it means as they get older.

We didn't get to wash his feet last night, but we did tickle them today.

trust in the awkward stage

2010-03-28T20:48:00.000-07:00

Knowledge With a Bite V, by Nicora Gangi

Life is a little strange right now, with a lot of things growing and brewing but still more or less in an awkward stage of not happening yet. (I know that didn't make sense. Reading this might help a little, but for the most part you'll just have to take my word for it.) Bottom line: conditions are just right for doubt, fear, and mistrust to slither in and whisper, "Did God really say...?"

How will I answer? Like Eve, I will usually forget exactly what God really said and spout off my own interpretation of his words, which rings hollow in my own ears and fails to satisfy the question at hand. Desperation and fear produce a perceived need for control: I grab the apple and take a big, juicy bite.

Where did the trouble start? It started when I confused God's words with my own interpretation of them. It is idolatry, but a particularly slippery kind, because it looks so much like trust. It is trusting my understanding of God more than I trust God himself, the relational God, the One who walks in the cool of the evening with his beloved. I took an idea about God, or a word from God - something small enough for me to get my head around - and I built an altar to worship that. Not the beautiful, unpredictable, mysterious person of God, but the small, tame, digestible idea I have of him.

This is not good. Let me throw it away. Let me consider it rubbish, that I may gain - not an idea, but a Person. Let me resolve to know nothing, except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

Let me trust.

things i am loving today

2010-03-23T16:55:00.001-07:00

The new sport we invented this morning: Snuggle-Wrestling.

Perfect white blossoms on the prune tree.

Jolly Rancher Smoothie-Flavored jelly beans.

Blue sky.

It's All Crazy! It's All False! It's All a Dream! It's Alright, the latest album from mewithoutyou.

Thumbprint flowers.

Tamara's Mix Tape Mondays (which I read a day late).

Mama Monk's Thankful Tuesdays.

Tickle fights.

Updates from Joy in Ethiopia.

Tiny lettuce seedlings that survived last week's frost.

Dinner's done (thanks Charu).

Driving the viaduct on a sunny afternoon.

It's LOST night!

Cheap babysitting in the afternoon.

Free babysitting in the evening (again...thanks Charu).

Nate trying to get Dexter to jump off the couch: "It's SAFE, Dexter! Really!"

Blowing bubbles.

Clean sheets.

Psalm 135.

My baby's crazy vampire fangs.

way better than green beer

2010-03-19T16:07:00.000-07:00

March 17, 2010 was a big day for me, but it had nothing to do with St. Patrick.

12:00 pm grab a stand-by seat on flight to LAX.
2:30 pm land at LAX.
3:30 pm walk the strand at manhattan with tiffany.

5:30 pm brave LA traffic with emily: 20 miles in 95 minutes.
7:05 pm arrive at the viper room.
7:15 pm rock out to derek webb singing stockholm syndrome.

8:30 pm double-double animal style & fries with emily.
10:00 pm laugh, argue, reminisce, and watch mindless TV with matt, tiffany, kevin, colleen, rachel, and bryan.
2:00 am sleep.
4:45 am leave for airport.
6:00 am board plane, hope to sleep.
6:30 am accidentally have a two hour conversation about the prosperity gospel with seatmate.
9:00 am back home to my boys in seattle.

Thanks Mom, Chase, Jon, Emily, Tiffany, & Matt!

happy hour

2010-03-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

I learned something from a friend a few months ago that I have been wanting to share. She called it 'happy hour', and it has been hugely beneficial to us in our marriage and our overall family life. Happy Hour is basically a weekly meeting with your spouse. I know that probably sounds boring or unnecessary, but it has become something we both look forward to every week. We have an agenda, which is similar to the one my friend and her husband use but slightly modified to fit us specifically, and we take turns each week leading the meeting (the leader is also in charge of drinks and/or snacks). Here is the basic agenda we use:

1. Schedule Updates [upcoming week's calendar, date nights, babysitting needs, weekend plans, time for each of us to relax or do something fun by ourselves]

2. Spiritual Direction [a time for each of us to share how God is working in our lives]

(The next three categories are only discussed once a month)

3. Short & Long Term Goals [first week of the month]

4. Financial Update [second week of the month]

5. Intimacy & Quality Time [third week of the month]

6. Mate Assessment [this is a time to give each other feedback on one another, both praise and constructive criticism]

7. Parenting [discipline issues, goals for the kids, fun stories to share]

8. Whatever's on your mind

9. Stuff to discuss next week

Maybe you've read through this whole thing and you're thinking "Well, we already talk about all those things throughout the week at some point, so we don't need to have a 'meeting' about them." I probably would have said that too, but the great thing about setting aside specific time once a week is that it frees up the rest of the week for conversations you may never have had before. When we start out the week by connecting with each other on all these levels, it changes the way we are able to interact with each other throughout the rest of the week. Instead of talking "business" all the time (schedules, responsibilities, issues with the kids, etc), we find ourselves just talking... the kind of talks couples have when their dating, but rarely have time for after marriage and kids.

No matter how much a husband and wife love each other, the external responsibilities and pressures of daily life -- work, children, church, activities, friends -- can make it difficult to maintain the friendship that is vital to a healthy marriage. For us, Happy Hour has been a way to keep our friendship strong, to maintain the close connection with each other, to know each other in order to be able to love each other well.

Cheers!

the road of life

2010-03-11T12:31:00.001-08:00

I know I just used this image on the blog a few weeks ago. I'm reposting today because the image will be on our church's worship folder this week, along with a short statement I wrote about it (below). The sermon this week is focused on 1 Corinthians 1:27 - "For God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong."

[By the way, the original work is part of the CROSS/PURPOSE art exhibit currently displayed at John Knox Presbyterian Church. This piece is, indeed, a big old rusty road sign... if you live nearby, go look for it near the entrance to the sanctuary in the hallway to the right.]

Art in Worship

In his striking piece, The Road of Life, Theodore Prescott uses a battered, rusting road sign to make a poignant statement about the cross. The symbol of sacrificial love and everlasting life is imposed upon a piece of metal that seems more likely to be found in a trash heap than an art gallery. In juxtaposing these things, Prescott creates an almost shocking picture of the gospel. For God chose the rubbish of the world - the useless, the abandoned, the battered and rusting – to shame the wise, the beautiful, the put-together. Our broken lives, redeemed by Christ, become living markers pointing toward the cross on the road of life.

boys and their toys

2010-03-09T20:09:00.000-08:00

I have made a modest effort to keep "war" toys out of our house... but who needs a toy gun when you have a train track bridge and an empty paper towel roll?

"Look Mommy," he says, "I made a gun!" I gotta at least give him credit for the creativity.

just barely not the truth

2010-03-07T17:13:00.000-08:00

I am a person who has a lot of fights with herself. (Some people call it "crazy" -- I prefer the term "over-analytical.") One of the regular arguments that breaks out between my multiple personalities is centered around whether the personal struggles I face are, in fact, personal struggles, or whether they are just something I've invented because I don't have any real problems.

Some people in the world worry about providing food and water for their families, or protecting their children from slave labor and prostitution, or simply surviving in places ravaged by violent wars. And here I am, drinking my Starbucks and stressing out about whether the comment I made at Bible study this morning came across as condescending.

Seeing the massive struggles of millions across the globe can help us gain perspective on our own blessings, but sometimes for me it works in reverse. The easiest lies for Satan to tell, the ones that are most believable, are the ones that are just ever-so-slight variations on the truth. I know the last 2 sentences don't seem to go together, but let me try to tie them in with an example. The Truth: I am blessed to have clean water, good food, warm shelter, a loving family, and a safe community. God asks me to be faithful to Him with what I have been given. Just Barely Not The Truth: I am blessed to have clean water, good food, warm shelter, a loving family, and a safe community. God has given me so much - I should shut up and stop bothering him with my insignificant problems.

If there is anything that we can see when we read God's Word it is his deep concern for the seemingly insignificant. When I think about the types of struggles I have, the things that Satan calls insignificant and unworthy of bothering about, I see that, in fact, they carry great significance in the kingdom of God. Loving my husband and children well. Being a good friend. Putting others before myself. Listening. Being sure of God's calling on my life. Placing obedience above man's approval. Knowing my Savior's abiding love. If Satan can get me to ignore these things and toss them aside as trifling and unworthy of attention, he has won a mighty battle indeed.

God asks me to be faithful -- faithful with the blessings he has given me, and faithful in the struggles I face. It is not for me to say that my struggles are less important than someone else's. Instead I am invited to cast all my cares upon him -- my cares, whatever they may be -- because he cares for me.

they said it

2010-03-02T15:21:00.000-08:00

Lately the big topic of conversation between the boys has been God. These cute little heretics like to throw out the word "God" whenever it works to their advantage. Usually this involves disputes over toys:

Boy: Can I have that?
Other boy: No, it's mine.
Boy: Well, all the world is God's.

But it's not always for personal gain - sometimes they're just sharing their thoughts, as in this conversation overheard at the breakfast table yesterday.

Nate: God is the boss.
Dexter: No, God is the man who takes care of the people that are sick.
Nate: (not disagreeing, just adding an idea) God does not do anything that is not OK to do.
Me: (trying to spur on more conversation because hey - this would be good for the blog!) What else do you guys want to tell me about God?
Dexter: Dinosaurs.
Nate: Dinosaurs are really big.

Awesome.

rehoboth

2010-02-26T14:41:00.000-08:00

August 18: Prairie View Towards Claresholm, Alberta, Canada, by Chris Overvoorde

Isaac's servants dug in the valley and discovered a well of fresh water there. But the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac's herdsmen and said, "The water is ours!" So he named the well Esek, because they disputed with him. Then they dug another well, but they quarreled over that one also; so he named it Sitnah. He moved on from there and dug another well, and no one quarreled over it. He named it Rehoboth, saying, "Now the LORD has given us room and we will flourish in the land." Genesis 26:19-22

I came to this passage a few days ago and it read like a promise.

You have been digging...finding springs of fresh, clean water only to be frustrated by property disputes and confusion. Wanting space. Wanting to be well-watered. Wanting to fill a jar and carry it on your back, to carry it home to your thirsty family. Wanting to flourish.

Rehoboth: Hebrew רְחוֹבוֹת‎, lit. broad places.

escape to paradise

2010-02-21T17:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we woke up to brilliant blue skies and nothing on our calendar. Perfect conditions for a spontaneous day trip to Paradise, WA. It is not hard to understand how this recreation area in the heart of Mt. Rainier National Park got its name...

We stopped by my parents' house on our way home to sit in the hot tub and made it just in time for sunset. Easily one of the best days we've had as a family since we moved here...

they said it (or in this case, dexter said it)

2010-02-19T13:29:00.000-08:00

[talking to Mimi on Skype]

Mimi: I saw a picture of you and Nate and you guys were hiding in the toy box! Why were you hiding in there?

Dexter: Because we couldn't hide in the closet - there are ghosts in there!

---

[boys are playing together in their room, I walk in]

Me: Whoo! Did someone do some poo-poo in here?

Dexter: Maybe you did, Mommy.

---

[on the way home from Ash Wednesday service, Dexter is very jealous that Nate got a cross on his forehead but he didn't because he was in the nursery]

Nate: Daddy, someday I am going to climb a mountain.

Jon: Sure buddy, you could do that.

Nate: A really big mountain, like Mt. Rainier.

Jon: Yep, you could do that someday if you want.

Dexter: And I will follow right behind you Nate... because I don't have a cross.

[Dexter following Nate at the beach today.]

ash wednesday, then and now

2010-02-17T15:56:00.000-08:00

The Road of Life, Theodore Prescott

It is very Ash Wednesday today. Cold, but sunny: [I can't get this phrase out of my head] a bright sadness.

Last year I set up a labyrinth in the chapel for Lent. Our church was beginning the journey of interim time between pastors, a time to walk and pray and listen together.

This year during Lent the chapel has prayer stations focused on the 7 last words of Christ, featuring artwork from the Cross/Purpose exhibit currently on display at church. The stations are simple: a piece of art on an easel, with one of Jesus' last phrases printed below. Word and image, inviting us to see and hear.

Last year I gave up using facebook during Lent. I chose it because it seemed hard. God used it to chip away at my addictions to affirmation, information, confirmation, communication.

This year I am giving up buying stuff. On Sundays I'll buy food, but that's about it. I'm not sure what God will do with it, but I have a hunch that it will be about seeing what I have, even as I wait and hope for coming things.

The gift of rhythmic and repetitive seasons is the opportunity they provide to reflect on last year's season with this year's eyes, and wonder what today will look like in a year's time.

Here's to reflection and wonder this season.

obligatory ok

2010-02-12T08:47:00.000-08:00

For those of you out there like me who somehow didn't get the gene that keeps you from baring your soul to the general public... Do you feel obligated to write an "I'm OK" post following a "what-kind-of-world-is-this-we're-all-so-messed-up" post? Well, I do, so this is it.

I'm OK.

A bit of a predictable script has developed here: The world is unkind. Our souls are fragile. I notice this. I am overwhelmed. I break down. I wait. A friend prays for me. I read a Psalm, and maybe a few verses from Isaiah or Hebrews. I remember. This groaning world, this fragile soul - they are not my own. I am held. I rest.

---

This helps too:

This is how I found them when I went to get them up from naps yesterday. Yes, they are both in the toy box.

40 miles back

2010-02-10T20:50:00.000-08:00

Freshman year of college I borrowed my friend's car to go to a retreat at Big Bear. I got in the left lane on the 10 freeway and drove for an hour before I realized that the freeway had split 40 miles back. Instead of being in Pamona, I was on I-5 North almost to Santa Clarita.

I get that feeling now and then. Like the scenery is all wrong and I can't figure out why I'm seeing signs for Cal State Northridge when I should be in the mountains above San Bernardino.

--

This afternoon I noticed that Dexter was running a fever and the first thing I felt was relief. All I could think was that I now had a valid excuse to drop everything on my insane schedule tomorrow and stay home. Sick.

When did this happen?

--

I'm fighting that cyclical thinking again, the downward spiral.

You are failing. Oh, don't get all upset - it's your own fault. If you're overwhelmed, you have no one to blame. Go have a pity party, but remember that other people in the world have real problems, not these ridiculous self-absorbed head issues. Get over it. You know, your reaction to these feelings is really spiritually immature. I don't know why you think you have any place serving in the church with all your struggles. See? Now even that is a spiritually immature thing to think because it assumes self-reliance rather than God's grace. What do you even know about God's grace? Obviously not much, since you don't know how to extend it to yourself... which is why you are feeling the way you are. And now we're back where we started: it's your fault.

--

Somewhere north of Granada Hills I got off the freeway. I looked at the map, turned around, and drove back down the San Fernando Valley, across LA County, and up into the San Bernardino National Forest. I was a little late, but it didn't matter. It's OK to get lost sometimes.

they said it

2010-02-08T14:50:00.000-08:00

[in the stroller]

Dexter: One, two, three, four and five! Four and five, Nate!
Nate: Four and five is nine.
Dexter: No! Four and five!
Nate: Yeah, four plus five is nine.
Dexter: NO! Four and FIVE!
Nate: (in a really condescending tone) Dexter, I know you will be disappointed... but four and five is nine.

----

Nate: Draw me a butterfly family Mommy.
Me: Sure, bud.
Nate: OK, now draw some butter.
Me: (blank look)
Nate: ...for the butterflies!

(He seemed really embarrassed when I laughed and told him that butterflies don't eat butter.)

Nate took this picture of me. I kinda like it.

----

Every once in awhile Dexter picks up a phrase and just starts sticking it in conversation wherever he pleases with no regard for meaning or context. Currently his phrase is "I trust you." No idea where he got this, but here are a few examples of when he has used it:

Jon: (picking Dexter up at the church nursery) Hi buddy!
Dexter: (giving Jon a big hug) Hi Daddy! (laying his head on Jon's shoulder) Daddy, I trust you.

Me: Dexter we are all done playing trains. Time to clean up!
Dexter: No we're not! (super serious, with a big frown) No Mommy, I trust you.

Me: What are you doing?
Dexter: I'm just reading the Thomas book.
Me: Do you want me to read it to you?
Dexter: OK, you can read it to me, I trust you.

----

Nate fell off the edge of my parents' hot tub the other night. (He's fine.) Although this was not the first tumble that resulted in facial abrasions, this was definitely the most interesting pattern of facial abrasion we've had! He fell face-first onto a plastic mat with a honeycomb pattern. Lovely, right?

irony, and what i do know about ed young

2010-02-05T18:52:00.000-08:00

Lots of talk today about the blistering article that came out about Ed Young and his alleged use of Fellowship Church as a means of acquiring personal wealth. Its very easy to say those things, harder to prove them, and almost impossible to get people to talk about them in terms of what they know versus what they assume or what they've read.

I know very little about Ed Young. I cannot vouch for his financial dealings, his character, or his theology. But I do happen to know one Fellowship Church staff member personally, and here's some irony for you: the same week that the media alleges that Ed Young is a wealth-monger, this FC staff member and his family pledge to go a full year without buying anything.

I have no idea whether the allegations against Young are true, but I do have deep respect for the financial and spiritual maturity shown by one of his most loyal staff members... maturity which he and his wife claim to be a direct result of Young's leadership and impact on their lives.

more than these

2010-02-05T14:55:00.000-08:00

It is early February, but you wouldn't know it.
Four straight weeks of April weather and nobody knows what to do,
least of all the rhododendrons.
What is it like, opening a bloom and knowing
four weeks from now its pistil will be frozen to a broken petal?
Do you do it just because you can?
In February it is joy and beauty, early and lovely
but with a bright sadness;
March will surely kill it.
Why don't you leave it alone today?
Tuck it tightly in the bud,
safe and sheltered until true April sunbreaks tease each blossom
from the wrap, in good time.
That's not your way.
Your ways are not our ways.
Is there love in the coming freeze? Surely you love us more than these.

good pairing

2010-01-29T15:05:00.000-08:00

You know how restaurants sometimes pair their meals with a suggested beverage? Well, I can't even begin to recommend a good wine to accompany lobster tails, but I can recommend reading Psalm 84 while listening to This House, by Sara Groves. If it were a menu item, it would read something like this:

This House, with Psalm 84
Savor this sweet, gentle melody while the beautifully-crafted story unfolds with a rare and surprising authenticity. The accompanying psalm brings out subtle notes of separation and reunion, growth and calling, sojourn and homecoming. Indeed, He has withheld no good thing.

Read here. Listen here.

prayer scraps

2010-01-28T18:40:00.000-08:00

A few [very] scattered thoughts on prayer...

----
prayer beyond communication and into communion
---
not simplified to merely thinking about God or talking to God -- prayer as being with God
---
for people who depend upon verbal ability... prayers of short and simple truths that sink in deeply
---
mental preoccupations becoming prayer
---
"prayer is our work and our work is prayer"
---
prayer that allows the Holy Spirit to pray in me
---
in the midst of chaos, a heart at rest in prayer
---
rhythms of life as spaces for prayer
---

These scraps of ideas might crystallize before I lead a workshop on prayer as a spiritual discipline next Saturday... or they might not, and that's probably just as well.

If you're in the area and want to spend time exploring spiritual disciplines in preparation for Lent, come to JKPC on Saturday, 2/6, 9:00-12:30 (childcare provided).

they said it

2010-01-28T18:33:00.000-08:00

(no reason)
Nate: I'm so brave. I'm not even scared when a snake tickles my toes.

--

(just stringing together words and adding suffixes as he sees fit)
Dexter: Can I have the fivest one that I want?

--

(at dinner)
Nate: Can I have some more teeter tots?

--

(overheard while the boys were playing together)
Dexter: Nate, you're a nice brother. You don't hit me. I like you, Nate.

--

(telling Jon about our day)
Nate: We saw the magnolia trees!
Jon: Which ones are the magnolia trees?
Nate: They look like a tree full of uvulas.

Not a bad description...

playing the game

2010-01-21T14:41:00.000-08:00

Nate has a game he likes to play at snack time. He holds up a graham cracker (or multiple graham crackers carefully pressed together), and asks "How many graham crackers do I have?" The goal, of course, is to try to trick the other person into thinking you have one when you actually have more, or vice versa.

Naturally, Dexter has to try to do everything Nate does. Here is a video of Dexter trying to play this game with me.

He knows the basic script, more or less. He knows how to hold his hands, when to keep them still and when to move them. But he clearly has no grasp of the underlying fundamentals of the game.

This feels uncomfortably familiar to me.

Are we like this in our worship? We know the script. We know when to stand, when to kneel, when to sit. Do we have a clue what we are doing? Why it matters? If it matters?

My two-year-old is teaching me:

1. Motions and words ≠ knowledge.
2. Keep watching and imitating.
3. Smile and have fun while you try, even if you're not doing it right.
4. The game gets a lot more fun as you grow into it.

dexter prayer

2010-01-18T13:09:00.000-08:00

Last night after Jon prayed with the boys, Dexter said he wanted to pray too. Here's what he prayed:

Dear God, we pray for Robenson for the buildings that falled down and for Emily for she can help all her friends. In Jesus' Name we pray, Amen.

Translation: Robenson is the child we sponsor through Compassion in Haiti. We have been praying for him all week and for the whole country. We haven't heard official word about Robenson but we did learn that he lives quite far away from Port-au-Prince, so we are hopeful that he is OK. So, you're probably wondering... who is Emily? Um... that would be Thomas' friend Emily... the TRAIN. Two things near and dear to the heart of our two year old: the situation in Haiti, and trains.

our new adoption blog

2010-01-18T10:17:00.000-08:00

We have a new home for all our adoption information and updates: We Are Adopted. I have moved all of my adoption-related posts from the last few months over to that site and will be posting future updates there. I'll keep the half-finished thoughts, stories, poems, and ramblings coming at this site, but now you don't have to sift through it all if you really just want to get info on our adoption.

Peace, and a blessed Martin Luther King, Jr Day to you!

tyrannosaurus dex

2010-01-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

There is nothing funnier to me than when my two-year-old is really good and mad. He scowls. He stomps. He lets you know, in no uncertain terms, that he is not happy and you are gonna hear about it. Here are just a few of the things I have heard him say in anger over the past 24 hours:

I will flush you down the toilet!

I will spit you into the crocodile's mouth!

I'm gonna bite your boo-boo!

Thankfully he has not been able to make good on any of these promises...

2009

2010-01-11T08:17:00.000-08:00

Bits and pieces of life and culture that made me laugh, cry, think, and become more like myself in 2009.

Books: Beyond Deserving, by Dorothy Martyn and There Is No Me Without You, by Melissa Fay Greene

Author Melissa Fay Greene with Ethiopian children

Songs: When The Saints, by Sara Groves and No More Tears, by Sandra McCracken

Art: Forgive Thy Brother, by Scott Erickson

Website: Twitter

Album: Curse Your Branches, by David Bazan

I took this picture on my phone. Great night.

Movies: The Hangover, Up, and Into Great Silence

The Carthusian Monastery featured in Into Great Silence

TV shows: Dexter, Madmen, 16 & Pregnant/Teen Mom

Miscellaneous: home-grown raspberry jam, blastocystis hominis, and bittersweet transitions.

hatching

2010-01-07T14:25:00.000-08:00

Someday I want to have a chicken coop in the backyard. I think chickens would be good pets: they stay outside, they are fun for kids, and they do something useful by providing delicious eggs.

I recently learned something interesting about chickens and now I can't stop thinking about it. Did you know that when a baby chick is hatching it is very important to leave it alone and not help? The time that a baby chick spends struggling to peck its way out of the egg is a critical for their development, as they engage and strengthen the muscles they will need in their new life outside the egg. To intervene in this process with the intention of "helping" them is, in actuality, to stunt their maturity and readiness for life as a baby chick.

Sometimes I feel like I am this hatching chick. As I peck furiously at the blinding world, I can make out figures -- silhouettes gathered around me. Are they really just standing there watching? Surely they could give me a hand and crack off a section of shell! Can't they see my desperate desire for emergence, for arrival, for apprehension of this hinted-at life beyond my knowledge?

But that is love, isn't it? To let the egg hatch in its time. To respect the process, the struggle, the unseen development and strengthening. And so I am loved: watched excitedly, cheered on enthusiastically -- loved, and not helped.

they said it: one liners

2010-01-06T15:47:00.000-08:00

Dexter: My feeling is hurt.

-------

Me: Boys, we don't wrestle in elevators!

(Snow-wrestling on the other hand...)

-------

Nate: Hey Dexter, are you ready for adventure? For danger? For death?!

(I was relieved to find out that this is a quote from Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. Yes, the movie quotes continue.)

you can't handle the truth

2010-01-03T07:10:00.000-08:00

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow up into him who is the head, that is, Christ. Ephesians 4:15

Honesty is a tricky thing. God commands it and legal systems depend upon it, but when it comes to human relationships the waters are muddy. Sure, we all say that we value honesty in our spouse, friends, children, and co-workers. But truthfully, these human relationships would not survive unchecked honesty. If a person honestly spoke every thought, opinion, and feeling out loud, they would be downright intolerable (case in point: the movie Liar Liar).

In human communication there is an unspoken expectation, not of honesty alone, but rather honesty that is tempered by tact and utility. Our response to true but hurtful words is often either "Couldn't you have found a nicer way to say that?" (i.e. no tact) or "Why would you say that to me?" (i.e. no good purpose or utility).

In addition to the honesty, tact, and utility that decent human beings require, God directs us toward another element in our interpersonal communication: love. Love desires God's best for its beloved. When communication is rooted in both truth and love, it will naturally incorporate tact (speaking kindly) and utility (speaking for a good purpose). The problem, however, is that most of us don't want to hear the truth, even if it is spoken in love. And likewise, some of us don't want to be loved, even if it is the truth.

Sometimes I find it simply miraculous that any of us are able to have one moment of true communion with each another. But we do... thanks be to God.

they said it

2009-12-29T20:19:00.000-08:00

We are thoroughly enjoying a week of rest, play, and family time at Jon's parents' house in Michigan. Nate and Dexter have quite an audience of grandparents, aunts, and uncles and they have not disappointed!

-------

[Upon coming upstairs, directed toward Grandpa]

Dexter (loudly): Is anyone looking for a grandson?

------

[Nate got a Nerf gun from Aunt Keri and Uncle CJ. He was playing with it downstairs as we were about to gather the whole family together to sing Christmas carols.]

Jon: Nate, come upstairs - it's time to sing some songs about peace on earth.

Nate: Peace on earth? OK, I'll put my gun down.

-----

[Referring to the pig-in-a-blanket that Dexter was trying to eat with a spoon]

Me: Dexter, you have to use your hands to eat that.

Dexter: It's too hot! Mommy, will you roll it up and pour soup on it?

I have no idea where my kids get this stuff, but it does provide good, cheap entertainment!

looking at the one

2009-12-29T08:26:00.000-08:00

Haregewoin Teferra, from the book There Is No Me Without You

I am beginning to wake up.

I wish I could say that, because God so loved the world, I have too. I wish I could say that statistics about genocide and child soldiers and poverty and hunger have motivated me to make real changes in my life -- to sacrificially love the suffering world. Sure, I've shed a tear, prayed some prayers, even sent monthly checks. I've talked about these things at dinner parties like a good socially-conscious Christian should. But mostly I have felt numb and powerless, overwhelmed by numbers I can't understand and concepts I have never experienced. In the end, these problems have been too big and too far removed from my comfortable suburban life to move me to authentic compassion.

Even our decision to adopt from Ethiopia hasn't felt like a reaction to the suffering world, necessarily, but more like a simple yielding to the way in which God has called us to build our family. We don't view it as rescuing a suffering orphan, but rather bringing home our son or daughter and fulfilling God's promise to care for him or her.

As part of our adoption preparation, I am reading a book called There Is No Me Without You, the story of an Ethiopian woman who accidentally starts an orphanage in her home. Much of the book centers on the problem of AIDS in Ethiopia and other developing countries, and the tidal wave of orphans it has created as an entire generation disappears from the disease. I have heard all this before. I have read the statistics, heard Bono's speeches, and seen pictures from friends' mission trips. So why was I completely shocked by this book? Why did I feel like I was hearing all of this for the first time? What made me suddenly care?

Mother Teresa called it "looking at the one." According to sociological research, when human beings are faced with massive problems on a global scale they experience what researcher Dr. Paul Slovic calls psychic numbing. They don't care, and they don't act - perhaps because they don't feel that they can make any difference. When faced with the problems of a single individual, humans are empathetic, compassionate, and willing to give sacrificially to the cause.

One of the children in this book is my child. AIDS is killing the generation that should have fed, clothed, and educated my child, and all this time I have not cared. We have not cared. Miracle-working drugs have made HIV manageable and AIDS almost invisible in America and that is good enough for us. Drug patents, international trade policy, and illogical, self-serving rhetoric are keeping Americans safe, healthy, and rich while children in Africa wake up between two dead parents. Am I over-stating? Over-simplifying?

I don't know. All I know is that an Ethiopian child I've never met is already teaching me, waking me up, shaking my shoulders, and asking me to move.

they said it: movie edition

2009-12-21T08:26:00.001-08:00

PLEASE can we watch The Lion King, Mommy?

If you have ever been around me and my siblings for more than a few minutes, then you have heard us quote from one of the following movies: The Princess Bride, National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, Orange County, Anchorman, or Dumb & Dumber (and please don't judge my siblings on account of this list, they were led by a very bad example). My poor sister-in-law Emma, who grew up in Australia, thought we were completely batty for the first year until she figured out that when we started talking nonsense we were actually quoting movies.

All that is a long way to say... my family likes to quote movies. Imagine my pride when I observed my children inheriting this wonderful trait! Nate enjoys quoting from movies, but his favorite thing is to play a game where I have to guess which movie the quote is from. I am terrible at this game, since he is quoting movies like Veggie Tales: King George and the Ducky, but he is very patient with me. "Think about it, Mommy!" he says encouragingly, even when I insist I have no idea who said "Now stick your tongue out!" (In case you're wondering, it was Mittens from the movie Bolt.)

Recently Dexter has also been showing promise in the movie-quoting realm. I thought he was just being strange yesterday when he looked up at me and said thoughtfully, "Mommy, when I grow up I want to be Peaches." But apparently, Peaches is a character in the movie Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, which he watched at Nana and Papa's house this weekend. I am still deciding whether this makes his comment any less strange!

Then last night we were getting the boys ready for bed and Dexter escaped into the living room. He started jumping up and down on the couch stark naked and shouting, "I speak whale! I speak whale! I speak whale!" For those of you who did not watch the movie Finding Nemo 136 times in 9 days while your toddler was in the hospital... well, I guess you just won't get it. :)