tenderly speaking

Monday was my birthday and usually at my age it's like any other day. But when something happens that makes it, not-so-ordinary it's really nice. I went down to my favorite Italian place to meet up with some of my very favorite girls. It was so much fun just to all get out together. There were thirteen of us in all and as we laughed and talked, I felt so blessed to have such a tribe of amazing women. Some artists, some mamas, some teachers, all so diverse and each so beautiful in her own way. One, I've known since she was itty-bitty and I was her camp counselor, one was my college roomie, some were from the girls' group I've been in for years, and some are sisters. I don't think I'm alone in the realization that there is healing in the understanding between women. The conversations went from art, to Jesus, to birth stories, to dreams, to sex, to hilarious things our kids do. We stayed for three hours, laughed a lot and covered a wide array of topics; our poor waiter got an earful. And then they surprised me with this:

I wrote about it here. I suppose it's the goal of most artists to create something that communicates; that stirs something in the viewer. I loved "Tenderly Speaking"(by Cat Collier) the first time I saw her. The colors, the textures, her expression which to me seems simultaneously timid and bold,peaceful, mysterious, edgy and feminine all make her intriguing to me. It seemed fitting to be given it by all my girls and now means even more to me. I hung it on my wall and looked around at the various pieces of art I've been given. Little corners of beauty, reminding me of people I love, and making my house a home. They just make me happy. I was sharing what a blessing these friends and this gift was to me last night at small group and still couldn't say it with out crying.
I was brought up, not to ask, expect or take things from people and I find that being on the receiving end of love, gifts, or attention is still kind of hard for me. I get embarrassed and emotional. But being humbled and overwhelmed by love isn't such a bad thing. I think we all need that source of encouragement sometimes. That in all of my messiness and weakness, someone sees me for who I am and still likes me. Can it be? It's such a picture of Jesus and how He loves us in our brokenness. It's real and healing to be with these women who build me up and bring me closer to Jesus. The evening was just a reminder of the treasure these girls are to me. We've been through relationships and finding who we'd marry, growing up, pregnancies and the loss of them, figuring out motherhood and creative endeavors, lots of joys and lots of tears. One of them gave birth to her daughter in our bed! Two of them married my little brothers. One of them dated my husband many moons ago. Needless to say, there is some history there. More than anything though, they are loyal, strong creative women who I know I can trust with my heart. They know when to listen and when to advise, they don't judge me and they make this journey easier and so much more pleasant. Thank you all for the treasures you are.

My little Dove-bird niece made her mama buy me tulips and a candy bar. She knows me well.

I came home to some of the loveliest home-made cards from my babies and Van Gogh yellows from my love. Lots of pretty paper, cards and fresh flowers made me one very happy girl.


"Happy Birthday. I love you. I wanna have a whole lot of fun with you. I give you this rose. I love you with all my heart. I love you more than the whole planet loves the moon.
Love, Juden"

Be still my beating heart.

sisters

Rain pours into my bedroom closet and our yard is a mud pit so we try to create our own light and our own blue skies. Just looking at these makes me miss my sisters. The girls are the same size now and lots of people ask if they are twins. They are so very different from each other but such very good friends.

blue skies

This has been the grayest,wettest January I can remember. So when the the sun finally breaks through, and there's blue skies above we make sure we soak it up. Last Monday Josh had a snow day so we took a drive up to enjoy the icy Narnia mountain. It was a sight to behold, thick crystal ice encasing every branch. We walked around Covenant College, our Alma Mater. I always feel nostalgic up there. It reminds me of being inspired by wise professors, worship, community and meeting this really cute crazy boy with a fro of curls. I lived on the fifth floor of what used to be an old hotel called The Castle in the Clouds. Everything seems so familiar, that it almost felt like I should be getting to chapel instead of making sure my kids didn't walk under any falling ice.

through the wardrobe

Josh and Juden are almost done with the third book in The Chronicles of Narnia series. They both look forward to snuggling up every night to read, and when they finish a book they watch the movie together. Who can blame him; the stories have captivated adults and children alike for decades. They are magical, from stepping through the wardrobe to the wintry world of talking animals, to the battles for freedom from the tyranny of the White Witch, to the fierce love of Aslan, the King Lion. When Juden likes something he is not half-hearted about it. So he is all about Narnia everything, and of course, asked to have Narnia party. We made a cardboard wardrobe that you could step through to the Narnia living room with snow covered tree limbs and strung snowflakes. There was Turkish delight and pin the tail on Mr. Tumnus. I was the White Witch, but a very non-menacing one. Sir Juden the valiant loved it. And I almost forgot, right in time for our Narnia party we got more snow than I ever remember seeing around here. It was beautiful and magically Narnian both inside and out.





Her are a few from our date to the tea room yesterday.

s i x

To Juden, ~ on your sixth birthday,
I have to admit, my little man, I'm sad to see five go. What a wonderful year it has been and how thankful I am for you. Today we had a special date, just you and me. We went to the English tea room, your Pop-pop's favorite place. You loved it. You raved about the tea and charmed the waitresses with your harmonica skills. They called you Oliver Twist, sitting there with an impish smile and woolen cap. We sat by the window watching the people pass by in the grey afternoon. We talked about six and all that it might hold. You excitedly told me that you would be able to read books with no help. You are learning so fast. You said you were going to learn how to play the drums, violin, flute, guitar and accordion, so apparently you've got some big plans. You loved your food and told me you loved me five times and that was before dessert. After a lunch fit for a prince we went to choose a new birthday toy. I enjoyed time to focus on just you. I loved holding your hand because usually I don't have enough hands to go around and the girls need mine more. I watched your small face laughing and talking and wondered to myself what this year, and the next, and the next, will hold for you.
From the moment I knew of your existence it has been this gentle progression of little ways of letting go. Six will be a year of big changes I think. Thus far we have spent all of our days together.You will most likely be in regular non-home school for first grade and I think I am already grieving the thought of being away from you all day. I know you are ready and you will do fine but my heart has trouble sometimes catching up to the speed at which you are growing up and becoming more independent. It is good and I have always known that ultimately our Father is holding you.
Is it normal that I think you are the most remarkably cool, adorable and kind little boy I've ever met? You are getting taller and thinner and you have your first loose tooth. While you were five you learned to sound out words and it was so exciting and satisfying to be your teacher. You love to draw, and love stories and reading. You love little babies and are really sweet and gentle with them. You informed me that you will have a little brother and his name will be Jacob. Hmm, I'm not sure if you're placing an order or what. You are all about pirates, knights, Star Wars and Narnia. You are perfecting some mad harmonica skills and you love all kinds of music. At the moment you have at least two marriage requests and you don't seem to want to disappoint either, so you've already gotten a glimpse of the mysterious world of love. I keep trying to tell you and your little buddies that you really have plenty of time to figure it out(but you just might be a heart-breaker). I will admit that I have no idea how to raise you into a godly son. Not a moment is lost in prayer and I am relying on His grace. With that said, I rejoice in what I have seen God doing in your heart this past year. I remember those days I prayed with hands on my belly that you would be a man of praise and passion for God. Thus your name, Juden Blaze. You have shown a strong sense of compassion for those in need and hurting. I have seen your giving spirit and am so thankful for your love for God. You are so quick to forgive and embrace when I have to say I'm sorry when I'm not the mom I should be to you. Your prayers are so simple, disarming and earnest. As many children tend to repeat the same prayers, you do too. You most often use communal words when praying, and often say, "It's not about us, it's all about you, we love you and we know you love us." You say "thank you" a lot and you also usually say, "I just can't stop loving you and I wish I could praise you all night." You have a very tender heart and you have taught me much about how deep and real and unpretentious the faith of a child can be. My son you are more than precious. I am still in awe that He bestowed such a beloved gift on me. Five was beautiful, awkward, tender, growing, curious, dramatic, mischievous and innocent. It was forts,swords, bow and arrows, filling sketch books,tiny Lego's, pants with busted knees, pockets of seeds and rocks, and little sister accomplices. I love you little one, and I look forward to all the wonderful possibility of six. Happy Birthday, little man.

I promise to break the blogging silent treatment soon. Just as soon as I finish turning my living room into Narnia for a certain almost-six-year-old. Can it be!?

snow angel

Every once in a great while the light changes and the sky is full and snow falls slowly, gently transforming all to shimmering powder white. Their eyes grow wide and out they trudge all wrapped up. I watch her catch snow on her tongue, they stomp out footprints, make snowballs and angels. We don't mind the cold for the rare wonder of snow. We pile in with ice-caked mittens and ruddy cheeks to the fire and a warm cup and our hearts are full.


Walking Home from Oak-Head

There is something
about the snow-laden sky
in winter
in the late afternoon
that brings to the heart elation
and the lovely meaninglessness
of time.
Whenever I get home - whenever -
somebody loves me there.
Meanwhile
I stand in the same dark peace
as any pine tree,
or wander on slowly
like the still unhurried wind,
waiting,
as for a gift,
for the snow to begin
which it does
at first casually,
then, irrepressibly.
Wherever else I live -
in music, in words,
in the fires of the heart,
I abide just as deeply
in this nameless, indivisible place,
this world,
which is falling apart now,
which is white and wild,
which is faithful beyond all our expressions of faith,
our deepest prayers.
Don't worry, sooner or later I'll be home.
Red-cheeked from the roused wind,
I'll stand in the doorway
stamping my boots and slapping my hands,
my shoulders
covered with stars.

~ Mary Oliver ~


(Thirst)

Here is a play list of some beautiful laid-back snowy day kind of music for your listening pleasures.