As year-round homeschoolers, there is no defined beginning or end to our homeschooling year. We flow from season to season as we strive for a holistic life-learning approach to education. Each season, however, brings with it a rhythm of its own, a fresh way to look at our learning and to structure our days.
Summer
Here we are on the cusp of summer. With a fifth little one expected within the next week or two, our summer will certainly require a shifting of rhythms.
Most years, however, our summers are spent in outdoor exploration with little in the way of structure. We try out new beaches, parks, and playgrounds. We talk, ask questions, find answers. We learn the names of the flowers currently blooming and we tend our vegetable garden. Butterflies are raised and released. New recipes are tried. Our days are often flipped around to take advantage of the cooler morning weather.
This works well for a season, and as autumn approaches we find ourselves ready for a bit more routine to our day. Although we tend towards an unschooling approach, some sort of framework keeps that unschooling from sliding into chaos for us.
Autumn
As the rain begins, we move into a different yet familiar rhythm. The specifics differ with each year, taking into account family circumstances and each child's individual needs, but the framework of it is generally the same.
After breakfast and a brief time of housework, we begin our Morning Gathering together on the couch. With some variation, this typically includes:
- Greeting, day's review, gratitude
- Bible story
- Hymn
- The Lord's Prayer and the Apostle's Creed
- Peace
After this gathering, we move into individual RRR time. Each child spends some time sitting with me on the couch and doing some combination of reading, writing, and/or math, depending on their needs and goals for the year.
Reading includes reading practice for those who need it. Our preferred resources are Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons followed by Sets 1-5 of Bob Books.
Writing may include letter formation, copywork, dictation, spelling lists, creative writing, or expository writing.
Life of Fred is our preferred math resource, along with times tables practice, logic and numeracy games, and other varied forms of numeracy development.
Autumn lunches make for an ideal read-aloud time. We particularly enjoy using this time for broad overviews of history such as Hillyer's A Child's History of the World or Gombrich's A Little History of the World.
Fall Fridays are STEAM project day, where we set aside our usual Gathering and RRR times and focus on hands-on science and art instead.
A portion of each afternoon is reserved for quiet time, an essential part of our day for each of us.
Winter
As fall moves into winter and a new calendar year begins, we often find the need to freshen up our usual routines. While autumn tends to have an individual focus with a heavy emphasis on reading, writing, and math, winter seems to demand a more cozy, group-based rhythm.
Our Morning Gathering continues, but the spiritual portion is truncated. We read Scripture, pray together, and sing a hymn. We choose a hymn for about a week and go through it one verse per day, discussing what the words mean. This becomes a great theology and vocabulary lesson! The kids take turns reciting our monthly poem; we've been going through Maurice Sendak's Chicken Soup with Rice book this past year. The poems are simple so it's been a great opportunity to focus less on memorization and more on how to make an entrance, introduce a poem, speak clearly, include expression, hold still, and be a good audience.
We then move on to a group lesson and discussion on science and history. This past winter we used David Macaulay's How Things Work for science and Gombrich's A Little History of the World for history.
Our gathering time finished, we move into a brief individual time. Our Life of Fred books are often finished by early December, so we take a break from the focused RRR time and work on more individual subjects. This past winter, for example:
- Jay would take The Jesus Storybook Bible and a regular Bible, read the relevant passages from the day's story in the Bible, and then compare/contrast the storybook version against the full version.
- Kai would read to me. He's a reluctant reader, so having him just sit and read to me each day greatly helped improve his fluency.
- Ell would work on letter recognition and printing with me, as well as early numeracy skills.
After that, if we started early enough, we had time for board games before lunch. With Life of Fred on pause for the time being, we chose to do some "gameschooling" for a while before jumping into the next LOF books.
This group routine is a good change each year, and the discussions add more science, history, and theology to our day than we typically have in the fall.
Spring
Eventually, however, our cozy winter group rhythm needs its usual seasonal sprucing up. We wind up our science and history and move once again into a more individual-based rhythm. It's a good time to reevaluate where each of the kids are and what each of them needs for the next couple of months. This spring, Ell insisted that I begin teaching her how to read, and both boys were eager to get back into Life of Fred. We also prepared and planted our garden, spent more time in nature, and of course had the usual pre-baby biology unit (always a favourite with the kids). This led to an unexpected enthusiastic interest in genetics and the opportunity for several other rabbit trails - perfect for spring.
As the weather warms up even more, our routine will shift once again into more of an outdoor/nature/exploration focus. This year we'll stay a bit closer to home, allowing me time to recover from childbirth and giving all of us the opportunity to get to know our new little one. We'll do less day trips and make good use of our backyard instead. There will be less audiobooks in the van and more read-alouds on the picnic blanket in the shade. It will be, as always, what our family needs.
This seasonal shift in routines works well for us and keeps things feeling fresh and relevant. I believe it to be one of the most important aspects of our homeschooling journey.
What seasonal shifts are currently happening in your daily rhythm?
Showing posts with label rhythm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rhythm. Show all posts
Sunday, 4 June 2017
Wednesday, 23 November 2016
Advent with Children: A Simple Gathering
Advent begins this Sunday. Often I would still be scrambling to make the necessary preparations at this point, but several years of trial-and-error have smoothed the process for our family.
Some years we stay home throughout Advent, while other years have us finishing off the Advent season while travelling to visit family for Christmas. This is a travel year, with the particular joy of getting to spend time with two new nephews born in the past few months.
Whether we travel or stay home, we have always worked to observe Advent in some sort of meaningful way with our children. While always shaped by the particular needs of the family, we have found a steady rhythm in a simple daily gathering.
A Simple Daily Gathering:
1. Candles
We begin by lighting a candle together, which lends a sense of wonder and solemnity to this time of gathering.
We begin by lighting a candle together, which lends a sense of wonder and solemnity to this time of gathering.
- A traditional Advent wreath is first lit on the first Sunday of Advent, with an additional candle lit each week.
- A spiral wreath such as this cradle-to-cross wreath or wooden spiral candle holder will count down the days from December 1 until Christmas.
- Any stand-alone candle can be used instead of a more traditional wreath; more important than the colour or the number of candles is the ritual of marking the beginning of this time of gathering in a distinct way.
2. Scripture
Next we settle ourselves on the couch and read a portion of Scripture. This can be combined with the Jesse Tree portion (below) or can be an additional reading of some sort.
Next we settle ourselves on the couch and read a portion of Scripture. This can be combined with the Jesse Tree portion (below) or can be an additional reading of some sort.
- The names of Jesus and their corresponding passages has been a favourite resource of ours for the past few years.
- The Daily Office Lectionary or the Revised Common Lectionary can provide a helpful guide for daily readings.
- This Advent reading plan accompanies The Jesus Storybook Bible, a particularly good resource for young children.
3. Jesse Tree
A Jesse Tree, comprised of 25 stories and their corresponding symbols, tells the story of Christ from Creation to the Messiah's birth. Traditionally a small tree is used on which a new ornament is added after each reading; however, the physical tree, while a nice concrete addition, is not integral to the progression of the story.
A Jesse Tree, comprised of 25 stories and their corresponding symbols, tells the story of Christ from Creation to the Messiah's birth. Traditionally a small tree is used on which a new ornament is added after each reading; however, the physical tree, while a nice concrete addition, is not integral to the progression of the story.
- Unwrapping the Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp is a popular option, with free colouring pages and tree ornaments to go along with each story.
- The Jesse Tree by Geraldine McCaughrean is a stand-alone story, which is particularly useful during years of travel. Corresponding ornaments can be created in a variety of ways, however, for those who appreciate the inclusion of a tree.
- There are countless homemade options and other published Jesse Tree resources that allow you to tailor this time to your family's particular ages and preferences; browse Google or Pinterest until you find your favourite!
4. Hymn
Each week we choose a new Advent hymn to sing together at this point in our gathering. This year our selections include:
Each week we choose a new Advent hymn to sing together at this point in our gathering. This year our selections include:
- Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus
- O Come, O Come Emmanuel
- Love Divine, All Loves Excelling
- Lo! He Comes With Clouds Descending
5. Prayer and Peace
We close with a short Advent prayer before exchange the Peace and blowing out the candle.
We close with a short Advent prayer before exchange the Peace and blowing out the candle.
- The Anglican Family Prayer Book by Anne Kitch is an excellent resource based on the Book of Common Prayer. I appreciate how much it simplifies the process of responsive prayer for our family.
- Your own preferred Advent resource is likely to include a prayer for the day.
- A simple free-form prayer can be offered in response to the days' readings. When going the free-form route, I often have each child share something for which they are thankful as a simple low-pressure addition to our collective prayer.
The details of our time of gathering changes with each year, but this outline provides a simple framework on which to hang those particular details. The basic pattern of coming together with a sort of ritual, moving into the reading of Scripture and/or devotional, and closing with a hymn and prayer provides unlimited potential for shifting and shaping this time in a way that feels smooth and right for your family.
While reviewing my Advent reflections in my Sacred Ordinary Days planner, I noticed that I had made note to not neglect my own personal Advent reflection and prayer. In that vein, my favourite grown-up Advent resources include:
- Comfort and Joy by Elizabeth Foss
- Advent for Everyone: A Journey Through Matthew by N. T. Wright
- Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas, with daily writings from C. S. Lewis, Kathleen Norris, T. S. Eliot, Dorothy Day, Henri Nouwen, Madeleine L'Engle, and more.
I hope you find some encouragement above as you create Advent rhythms and traditions with your children. December is a busy month, and a simple time of gathering can prevent us from moving too quickly into Christmastide while also allowing us to prepare our hearts in anticipation of Christ.
How does your family observe the Advent season? Please share your favourite traditions or resources as inspiration for the rest of us!
Tuesday, 5 April 2016
The Rhythms of Our Days
We settled into a good rhythm over the winter, easy and natural, a comforting flow to our rainy days. I have not always been particularly good at this. It was not until my first child left behind his go-with-the-flow infancy that I was forced to begin to shape our days into a steady routine. I sought a predictable beginning, middle, and end, with room to wander as life lead us.
And yet it remained a challenge for my distractable and disorganized self. I wanted to mark the rhythm of our days, weeks, seasons, and years. I wanted the comfort and security of routines for my children. I wanted to continue our journey towards intentional living, ensuring that the things we valued were not forgotten as our time idly slipped away from us. I just wasn't very good at it.
It's been six years since I first recognized the value of rhythm in our days. I have managed to find that rhythm in certain seasons, steady and reliable, while during other seasons it has slipped away from me. It has been a trial-and-error endeavor, up and down, off and on, but overall there has been a positive progression. Now, at last, our rhythms shape and guide our daily lives, rooted with anchor points, carried along by intentional habits, and ever being fine-tuned to fit our needs.
Right now that rhythm begins before dawn. I get up early with the husband to fit in my run or yoga. I settle into my morning quiet time while he heads off to work and the kids continue to sleep. My early mornings have become more life-giving than I ever would have imagined, and I most definitely notice its absence on days when it doesn't happen.
During this quiet morning time, I read Scripture, pray, journal, and read from my current non-fiction book. This is the sort of reading that I find more challenging during the day, when I won't have the devoted time needed to focus on the words, or at the end of the day, when I'm too tired to give it the thought required. After reading, I review our upcoming day, and then I do a bit of work or writing if I have extra time. And drink coffee. Of course.
The kids wake up one at a time. Ell is nearly always the first, with baby Min close behind. Jay and Kai sleepily wander out eventually, unless we have time-sensitive plans and I have to wake them up (to a chorus of grunts and grumbles and roars, the little bear cubs). After reading a couple of story books while they wake up properly, it's time for breakfast, followed by a bit of play time. Mid-morning we settle in to our sit-down time together, which may include any or all of devotional time, reading, writing, math, and science or geography. By then it's lunch time, during which we have our history read-aloud.
After lunch is our daily quiet time. Min naps while the other three occupy themselves with solitary activities (reading, puzzles, games, and so on) or head outside for some backyard playtime. I work until Min wakes up. There's often time for a game or two before moving on to dinner preparations. Post-dinner is the usual busy evening activities of clean-up time, baths, teeth brushing, bedtime story, and so on. Before I go to sleep myself, I set out the various things I need for morning - coffee supplies ready, stack of books waiting, clothes chosen. That morning time is precious to me and I wish to waste as little of it as possible.
I have been focusing this year on cultivating a deeper sense of home, and rhythm, I've discovered, is an integral part of that. Rhythm provides the hooks on which to hang our activities, our priorities, and our values. I can wake up in the morning knowing that all of the thought is taken out of our plans - the myriad of daily decisions, the preparations, the choosing of what and when and how, the fitting in of what matters to us as time carries us along. I can just get on with what needs to be done, more fully present in the moment and with less worries for the next few steps ahead.
But our rhythms are continually being adjusted, and this spring season has called for new life to be breathed into these old winter routines. We have been setting down the pencils and spending all the lovely mornings outside, at the playground, the beach, or walking through our favourite wooded areas. Our afternoons are still similar, allowing the baby to get in his nap (I will call him a baby forever and ever and don't you try to make me start calling him a toddler already, I don't care if he's walking everywhere and getting into everything and throwing epic toddler tantrums to go along with his Very Big toddler opinions) and providing me with a consistent time in which to do my work.
I find these times of rhythm transitions to be challenging. I feel off-kilter for a while, feeling my way semi-blindly through our days. I miss the simplicity of knowing generally how the day will unfold, and decision fatigue wears on me quickly. Eventually, though, we settle into the new season, rhythm lighting the path ahead, an ever-evolving framework for our family to grow up in.
And yet it remained a challenge for my distractable and disorganized self. I wanted to mark the rhythm of our days, weeks, seasons, and years. I wanted the comfort and security of routines for my children. I wanted to continue our journey towards intentional living, ensuring that the things we valued were not forgotten as our time idly slipped away from us. I just wasn't very good at it.
It's been six years since I first recognized the value of rhythm in our days. I have managed to find that rhythm in certain seasons, steady and reliable, while during other seasons it has slipped away from me. It has been a trial-and-error endeavor, up and down, off and on, but overall there has been a positive progression. Now, at last, our rhythms shape and guide our daily lives, rooted with anchor points, carried along by intentional habits, and ever being fine-tuned to fit our needs.
Right now that rhythm begins before dawn. I get up early with the husband to fit in my run or yoga. I settle into my morning quiet time while he heads off to work and the kids continue to sleep. My early mornings have become more life-giving than I ever would have imagined, and I most definitely notice its absence on days when it doesn't happen.
During this quiet morning time, I read Scripture, pray, journal, and read from my current non-fiction book. This is the sort of reading that I find more challenging during the day, when I won't have the devoted time needed to focus on the words, or at the end of the day, when I'm too tired to give it the thought required. After reading, I review our upcoming day, and then I do a bit of work or writing if I have extra time. And drink coffee. Of course.
The kids wake up one at a time. Ell is nearly always the first, with baby Min close behind. Jay and Kai sleepily wander out eventually, unless we have time-sensitive plans and I have to wake them up (to a chorus of grunts and grumbles and roars, the little bear cubs). After reading a couple of story books while they wake up properly, it's time for breakfast, followed by a bit of play time. Mid-morning we settle in to our sit-down time together, which may include any or all of devotional time, reading, writing, math, and science or geography. By then it's lunch time, during which we have our history read-aloud.
After lunch is our daily quiet time. Min naps while the other three occupy themselves with solitary activities (reading, puzzles, games, and so on) or head outside for some backyard playtime. I work until Min wakes up. There's often time for a game or two before moving on to dinner preparations. Post-dinner is the usual busy evening activities of clean-up time, baths, teeth brushing, bedtime story, and so on. Before I go to sleep myself, I set out the various things I need for morning - coffee supplies ready, stack of books waiting, clothes chosen. That morning time is precious to me and I wish to waste as little of it as possible.
I have been focusing this year on cultivating a deeper sense of home, and rhythm, I've discovered, is an integral part of that. Rhythm provides the hooks on which to hang our activities, our priorities, and our values. I can wake up in the morning knowing that all of the thought is taken out of our plans - the myriad of daily decisions, the preparations, the choosing of what and when and how, the fitting in of what matters to us as time carries us along. I can just get on with what needs to be done, more fully present in the moment and with less worries for the next few steps ahead.
But our rhythms are continually being adjusted, and this spring season has called for new life to be breathed into these old winter routines. We have been setting down the pencils and spending all the lovely mornings outside, at the playground, the beach, or walking through our favourite wooded areas. Our afternoons are still similar, allowing the baby to get in his nap (I will call him a baby forever and ever and don't you try to make me start calling him a toddler already, I don't care if he's walking everywhere and getting into everything and throwing epic toddler tantrums to go along with his Very Big toddler opinions) and providing me with a consistent time in which to do my work.
I find these times of rhythm transitions to be challenging. I feel off-kilter for a while, feeling my way semi-blindly through our days. I miss the simplicity of knowing generally how the day will unfold, and decision fatigue wears on me quickly. Eventually, though, we settle into the new season, rhythm lighting the path ahead, an ever-evolving framework for our family to grow up in.
Monday, 25 January 2016
The only way to do it
Sometimes my kids don't want to do the things that they need to do.
Shocking, right? I know. I'm the only one with kids like this. They don't want to empty the dishwasher or tidy their toys or work on something challenging.
So out comes the Mom Voice and I tell them, every time: The only way to do it is to do it.
The only way to get that dishwasher emptied so you can go play is to empty it. The only way to get through that task that feels big and difficult and overwhelming is to get started. These are words to carry you through life, kids.
But this isn't really about my kids. Because for every time I remind them that the only way to do it is to do it, I have to remind myself of the same thing about a half dozen times.
The only way to get out of bed in the morning, self, is to get out of bed in the morning. The only way to run is to lace up those shoes and go run. When faced with a new client and five years of overdue taxes and no useful records, the only way to get through it is to do it. I can stare at it and dread it and whine all I like, but it's not going anywhere until I begin.
Goodness knows that as a perfectionist, procrastination is my constant temptation. If I can't do it perfectly right now, then it's best to just not bother at all, right? Put it off until I have the perfect combination of time, silence, skills, desire, space, mental clarity, everything - then, maybe, we'll talk.
Four kids and homeschooling and working from home and housekeeping and caring for my own self too, however, means that things never go well when I try to wait for the stars to perfectly align. I'm learning to be more creative with my time. I'm finding the things that work best for me: the preparations that make the biggest difference, the small pockets of time that can either be wasted or used, the disciplines and habits that bring a sense of peace and confidence and usefulness to our daily rhythms.
All those things help, yes - but ultimately, always, the only way to do it is to do it. So I sit down to my work and hear those words in my head and I begin. I put on a load of laundry. I take out the sewing machine. Turn on the oven. Pick up the broom. the book. the pen.
The only way to do it is to do it.
Shocking, right? I know. I'm the only one with kids like this. They don't want to empty the dishwasher or tidy their toys or work on something challenging.
So out comes the Mom Voice and I tell them, every time: The only way to do it is to do it.
The only way to get that dishwasher emptied so you can go play is to empty it. The only way to get through that task that feels big and difficult and overwhelming is to get started. These are words to carry you through life, kids.
But this isn't really about my kids. Because for every time I remind them that the only way to do it is to do it, I have to remind myself of the same thing about a half dozen times.
The only way to get out of bed in the morning, self, is to get out of bed in the morning. The only way to run is to lace up those shoes and go run. When faced with a new client and five years of overdue taxes and no useful records, the only way to get through it is to do it. I can stare at it and dread it and whine all I like, but it's not going anywhere until I begin.
Goodness knows that as a perfectionist, procrastination is my constant temptation. If I can't do it perfectly right now, then it's best to just not bother at all, right? Put it off until I have the perfect combination of time, silence, skills, desire, space, mental clarity, everything - then, maybe, we'll talk.
Four kids and homeschooling and working from home and housekeeping and caring for my own self too, however, means that things never go well when I try to wait for the stars to perfectly align. I'm learning to be more creative with my time. I'm finding the things that work best for me: the preparations that make the biggest difference, the small pockets of time that can either be wasted or used, the disciplines and habits that bring a sense of peace and confidence and usefulness to our daily rhythms.
All those things help, yes - but ultimately, always, the only way to do it is to do it. So I sit down to my work and hear those words in my head and I begin. I put on a load of laundry. I take out the sewing machine. Turn on the oven. Pick up the broom. the book. the pen.
The only way to do it is to do it.
Monday, 10 March 2014
Mondays are made of these {and an Everyday Granola recipe}
Monday afternoons are a familiar dance through the kitchen, restocking the breakfast granola and the freezer stash of granola bars for another week.
The kitchen is a busy place and first there must be full bellies if I'm to have any hope of getting the afternoon's work done. Baby girl eats a fried egg; the boy prefers his eggs in an english muffin with a slice of cheese and a ketchup smiley face. The preschooler likes pita and hummus best. Once finished, the baby lays down for her nap, the boys attempt a bit of quieter play, and I begin the steps.
I start with the granola. Check the fridge to see what nuts and seeds I have on hand this week. Mix the dry ingredients, boil the wet, combine the two, spread on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet and slide into the oven to bake. I sit down to rest my feet for a time, aside from stirring it every so often. Once it has turned that lovely shade of brown, I set it on the counter to cool and turn my attention to the granola bars.
(I always use this granola bar recipe, with half the amount of brown sugar; it has been a constant success around here.)
Dry, wet, boil, mix. The bowl joins the cooling granola on the counter, both of them resting while I take a break myself. Once the granola has cooled, I pour it into its container, ready to begin our mornings.
The granola bar mixture, too, has cooled enough to add the miniature chocolate chips, and somehow two boys always hear this part and come begging for some chocolate chips of their own. The granola bars get spread right there on the same parchment paper, so recently vacated by the granola. I press the mixture down hard with a second cookie sheet, putting my weight into it and wondering if I'll be able to get enough leverage as my pregnant belly grows larger.
Another break as the granola bars set in the fridge, then the process of cutting and wrapping begins. The kids hear this part, too, and come hoping for a pre-dinner snack before I get the chance to wrap them all.
Then dinner prep begins and this kitchen is my Monday home, it's true.
Everyday Granola
The beauty of this recipe is its flexibility. Add whatever nuts and seeds you have and enjoy, and simply omit what you don't. Include other add-ins in the dry mix, such as wheat germ or ground flax. Replace the olive oil with an oil of your preference. Try it a few times and make it your own.
Ingredients:
6 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup sliced almonds
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup sunflower seeds
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup honey
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 cup shredded coconut
Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 325F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a mixing bowl, combine the oats, nuts, seeds, and cinnamon.
3. In a saucepan, combine the water, olive oil, honey, and vanilla. Stirring constantly over medium heat, bring just to a boil.
4. Pour the boiled mixture over the dry ingredients and mix well. Spread onto the parchment-lined baking sheet.
5. Bake in oven for 25-35 minutes or until golden brown, stirring occasionally. Add the coconut approximately 10 minutes before baking is done.
6. Remove from oven and cool completely before storing in airtight container.
7. Top with raisins, dried cranberries, or other fruit (optional). Serve with yogurt or milk.
{Recipe adapted from Honey Granola}
The kitchen is a busy place and first there must be full bellies if I'm to have any hope of getting the afternoon's work done. Baby girl eats a fried egg; the boy prefers his eggs in an english muffin with a slice of cheese and a ketchup smiley face. The preschooler likes pita and hummus best. Once finished, the baby lays down for her nap, the boys attempt a bit of quieter play, and I begin the steps.
I start with the granola. Check the fridge to see what nuts and seeds I have on hand this week. Mix the dry ingredients, boil the wet, combine the two, spread on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet and slide into the oven to bake. I sit down to rest my feet for a time, aside from stirring it every so often. Once it has turned that lovely shade of brown, I set it on the counter to cool and turn my attention to the granola bars.
(I always use this granola bar recipe, with half the amount of brown sugar; it has been a constant success around here.)
Dry, wet, boil, mix. The bowl joins the cooling granola on the counter, both of them resting while I take a break myself. Once the granola has cooled, I pour it into its container, ready to begin our mornings.
The granola bar mixture, too, has cooled enough to add the miniature chocolate chips, and somehow two boys always hear this part and come begging for some chocolate chips of their own. The granola bars get spread right there on the same parchment paper, so recently vacated by the granola. I press the mixture down hard with a second cookie sheet, putting my weight into it and wondering if I'll be able to get enough leverage as my pregnant belly grows larger.
Another break as the granola bars set in the fridge, then the process of cutting and wrapping begins. The kids hear this part, too, and come hoping for a pre-dinner snack before I get the chance to wrap them all.
Then dinner prep begins and this kitchen is my Monday home, it's true.
Everyday Granola
The beauty of this recipe is its flexibility. Add whatever nuts and seeds you have and enjoy, and simply omit what you don't. Include other add-ins in the dry mix, such as wheat germ or ground flax. Replace the olive oil with an oil of your preference. Try it a few times and make it your own.
Ingredients:
6 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup sliced almonds
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup sunflower seeds
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup honey
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 cup shredded coconut
Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 325F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. In a mixing bowl, combine the oats, nuts, seeds, and cinnamon.
3. In a saucepan, combine the water, olive oil, honey, and vanilla. Stirring constantly over medium heat, bring just to a boil.
4. Pour the boiled mixture over the dry ingredients and mix well. Spread onto the parchment-lined baking sheet.
5. Bake in oven for 25-35 minutes or until golden brown, stirring occasionally. Add the coconut approximately 10 minutes before baking is done.
6. Remove from oven and cool completely before storing in airtight container.
7. Top with raisins, dried cranberries, or other fruit (optional). Serve with yogurt or milk.
{Recipe adapted from Honey Granola}
Friday, 10 May 2013
Sunny days
There's sand in the bathtub and the hamper and little boys' pockets. I pour it out of their boots, shake it out of their socks, and sweep it off the floor only to sweep it again. On particularly good days, I even help them rinse it out of their mouths. It sounds like pop rocks candy as it crunches between their teeth.
There are pill bugs in leaf-filled jar homes, fruit flies dancing around my compost bucket, and beetles crawling across my computer screen. I'm just waiting for the day I wake up to a line of mocking ants marching across my kitchen floor. I hate those ants. And then I'll line the doorways and baseboards with cinnamon and try to ignore the twinges of guilt as we mash the remaining ants beneath our fingers. So much for my pacifist leanings. I offer my sincere apologies to our Aunt Jo, who would be absolutely horrified to hear about the mass ant murders that take place here on occasion.
There is the heady smell of flowers in the morning, sunshine in the afternoon, and barbecued dinners in the evening. The cherry blossoms have already fallen into pink carpets and turned brown under passing feet and strollers and wagons. Everything is bright and colourful, backed by a hundred shades of green. Every breath feels like praise - thank you, thank you, thank you.
There are picnics at parks and visits to the farm and the zoo. Bare feet delight in the cool grass and the warm pavement. There are squeals as tiny toes test cold ocean waters at the beach. The sun comes out and a whole new world of possibilities seems to open up for us.
The door opens after lunch and doesn't close again until bedtime. We've fallen into a nice routine. The babies - mine and the daycare child - lay down for their first nap mid-morning while the rest of us have a bit of quiet. The babies wake up just in time to join us for lunch, then there's a quick tidy and we all head out into the yard. It's early afternoon by then, so the baby sits in the only bit of shade there is, right in front of the Japanese maple tree and rhododendron shrubs. The boys roll down the sloped yard in oversized toy dump trucks for as long as my nerves can stand it, and then out come bubbles, sidewalk chalk, hula hoops, whatever catches their fancy that particular day. We all enjoy the sun until it's time for the sweet girl's afternoon nap. The rest of the afternoon is filled with books, crafts, and the continual coming and going of boys (and their accompanying dirt) through that ever-open door.
There are early suppers and evening walks, nightly baths to wash off the day's activities, and more laundry than seems possible. Such is almost-summer, and an easy trade-off it is for all this warm sunshine.
There are pill bugs in leaf-filled jar homes, fruit flies dancing around my compost bucket, and beetles crawling across my computer screen. I'm just waiting for the day I wake up to a line of mocking ants marching across my kitchen floor. I hate those ants. And then I'll line the doorways and baseboards with cinnamon and try to ignore the twinges of guilt as we mash the remaining ants beneath our fingers. So much for my pacifist leanings. I offer my sincere apologies to our Aunt Jo, who would be absolutely horrified to hear about the mass ant murders that take place here on occasion.
There is the heady smell of flowers in the morning, sunshine in the afternoon, and barbecued dinners in the evening. The cherry blossoms have already fallen into pink carpets and turned brown under passing feet and strollers and wagons. Everything is bright and colourful, backed by a hundred shades of green. Every breath feels like praise - thank you, thank you, thank you.
There are picnics at parks and visits to the farm and the zoo. Bare feet delight in the cool grass and the warm pavement. There are squeals as tiny toes test cold ocean waters at the beach. The sun comes out and a whole new world of possibilities seems to open up for us.
The door opens after lunch and doesn't close again until bedtime. We've fallen into a nice routine. The babies - mine and the daycare child - lay down for their first nap mid-morning while the rest of us have a bit of quiet. The babies wake up just in time to join us for lunch, then there's a quick tidy and we all head out into the yard. It's early afternoon by then, so the baby sits in the only bit of shade there is, right in front of the Japanese maple tree and rhododendron shrubs. The boys roll down the sloped yard in oversized toy dump trucks for as long as my nerves can stand it, and then out come bubbles, sidewalk chalk, hula hoops, whatever catches their fancy that particular day. We all enjoy the sun until it's time for the sweet girl's afternoon nap. The rest of the afternoon is filled with books, crafts, and the continual coming and going of boys (and their accompanying dirt) through that ever-open door.
There are early suppers and evening walks, nightly baths to wash off the day's activities, and more laundry than seems possible. Such is almost-summer, and an easy trade-off it is for all this warm sunshine.
Friday, 22 June 2012
Embracing summer
What was the best part of your day, Mommy?
Oh, what indeed?
The strawberry picking, with red hands and sticky faces and tubs filled with glorious red summer,
was definitely the best part.
The tidepool exploration, with crabs and seaweed and a coating of sun-bleached shells,
had to have been the best part.
The waterpark, with shivering children and cozy towels as afternoon became evening,
was the best part too.
It was all my favourite. Yesterday was good.
Today we're gorging ourselves on fresh strawberries while nursing our various
scrapes, sunburns, and sore muscles.
Today is good too.
Monday, 14 May 2012
A day in my life
This was actually our day last Thursday; it's been a busy blog weekend in the meantime. Thursdays are our "just us" days. They tend to feel peaceful and easy after three days of caring for another toddler. They are often our days to do errands, make appointments, visit friends, or just stay home and enjoy each other's quiet company. Below is a pretty typical Thursday for us.
Morning
I woke up this morning to find the husband gone for the day and the landlord trying to water the garden in front of our open bedroom window. I quickly closed the window before our bed got sprinkled with water (it wouldn't be the first time) and, since the boys were both still asleep, laid back down for a bit more sleep myself.
I woke up an hour later to the sound of the toddler playing cars on the floor, waiting for his brother to wake up. Next time I opened my eyes, the two of them were sitting in bed beside me reading a book together. The older asked for breakfast while the younger informed me he had pooed his diaper. Time to start the day. I felt much better and more well-rested than I had in a while. I was grateful they had given me the chance to sleep in, but now we had to get moving because I had to have my blood taken before lunch.
After cleaning up the toddler's diaper, we headed to the kitchen for breakfast. The boys had yogurt with granola I'd made the previous day. This sounds impressive until I confess that I'd been meaning to make a new batch for months, guiltily buying Mini Wheats and Cheerios in the meantime. Oh well.
My midwife had instructed me to have two eggs, toast, and butter before getting my blood drawn. Unfortunately we were out of bread, so I had a pita and hummus along with my two hard-boiled eggs. The boys finished their breakfast and came to assist me in finishing off my own. They're very helpful that way.
The boy dressed himself while I got the toddler ready. I used a wet comb in a mostly-failed attempt to smooth down the boy's unruly hair, which I had just cut the day before. The boys got their boots on while I quickly washed and dressed myself. I came out to find that they had both put their boots on the wrong feet; we headed outside anyway, grabbing the bag of library books I'd set by the front table the night before.
Got to the lab, found a parking spot, unbuckled both boys, and realized I'd forgotten the blood work form at home. Mentally kicked myself. Buckled the boys back in and drove back home for the paper. Grabbed it, drove back, found a new parking spot, unbuckled both boys, and doubled-checked for form, keys, and phone before locking the doors and heading to the lab. Scooped up the dawdling toddler a moment later, wanting to get a spot at the lab quickly before the lunch crowd started to arrive.
Fortunately, the waiting room was nearly empty when we walked in. The boys went to sit down while I checked in. As soon as I joined them, the toddler's string of "why's" began.
"Why is the mail truck stopped there?"
"So the mail delivery person can take the mail to the people it belongs to."
"Why?"
"So they can get their mail."
"Why?"
"So they can read their letters and pay their bills."
"Why?"
"..."
Gratefully, we were soon called back. We talked about the various medical supplies while waiting. I answered a couple dozen more why-questions. A lady came in, asked the boys if they were going to watch, and promptly stuck me with the needle. "See? Didn't hurt at all!" she said to the boys. Hah. It hurt. A lot. The boys watched intently while I kept my eyes resolutely locked in the other direction. Two vials later, she removed the needle and I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Yes, I'm a wimp.
We left the lab and headed to the bank to make a deposit. The boy put the card in and pressed all of the buttons for me (except the PIN; sorry, kid). Next we took a quick walk around the thrift store, where the boy found a small set of miniature block houses, the perfect addition to the extravagant "cities" he makes all over the living room floor most days.
The used book store was right across the street. We hadn't been for a while and I felt like browsing, even though we were planning to head to the library next. The boy settled himself down in front of the children's books. The toddler walked up and down the long aisles and jabbered excitedly about the store's resident cat, a fat old grey thing that was currently asleep next to the cash register. I felt winded after only a few minutes of wandering (a new pregnancy development, whoopee), so I sat myself down on the floor next to the boy to look at the children's books.
A slightly embarrassing fifty-five dollars later, we left the store with a stack of new-to-us books. The boy was no longer interested in going to the library today, and he also turned down my offer for lunch while we were out. He just wanted to go home and read all his new books. The toddler didn't care what we did, just so long as I stopped to let him pick up pinecones along the way. We dropped off the library books, went through the McDonald's drive thru to pick up an iced mocha for me and chocolate milk for them (tsk tsk, I know), and headed home.
Afternoon
The next four hours were spent reading through the new books. The boy had recently discovered The Magic School Bus series and had been thrilled to find a whole stack of them at the bookstore. He'd selected a few of them and was most excited about reading those. I was very disappointed; some of them were newer ones and the quality was terrible compared to the old-style ones written by Joanna Cole. Fortunately, I'd grabbed all of the older ones they'd had, suspecting this would be the case, and we'd only ended up with three of the awful newer ones. Most of the other books were excellent. My favourite was Iva Dunnit and the Big Wind by Carol Purdy; the boy's favourite (aside from the Magic School Bus books) was Extreme Dinosaurs by Robert Mash; the toddler's favourite was Insectlopedia by Douglas Florian.
We paused reading long enough to eat some tacos and homemade guacamole on a towel on the living room floor. The boy loves when we have indoor picnics like that. I said a silent prayer of thanks for the sweet way the toddler sucks the guacamole off his taco chip before eating the chip itself. Those little moments make my day; I paused to breathe in the beauty of the moment, the day, these children, the food.
After more reading, the boy climbed up to his craft area on the counter to experiment with his new "how to draw dinosaurs" book, and I took some time to write down our day thus far.
Early Evening
The husband arrived home at 5:00. He sat down with the kids and spent 20 minutes looking through their new books with them (particularly the Extreme Dinosaurs one, which he thought was pretty cool too) before heading into his office to check his email and whatnot.
5:30, time to get supper going. I did a quick tidy of the kitchen. The husband put the rice on while I made the sauce for the salmon and put it in the oven. I prepped the asparagus and left it waiting there until the rest of the meal was nearly done. I took a shot of my beloved Floradix, without which I can scarcely muster up the energy to even sit up, much less feed the children or do even a minimal amount of housework. I chased the Floradix with a square of chocolate, because hey, why not?
The boys went into the office with Daddy to play "the building game" while dinner cooked. The "building game" is actually Tropico 4. When I asked their very responsible father what the actual name of the game was, he asked if I was blogging about it. "I might make mention of it," I replied. He came out of his office with a slightly guilty look on his face to tell me that I may want some more information on the game before telling the "blog world" (his words) that my toddler and five-year-old play it with him. Turns out you can do some rather not-so-nice-or-ethical things as the dictator in this particular game. Oh yes, and it's rated Teen. Lovely. Just lovely. He assured me he keeps it very child-friendly. I glared at him anyway.
The toddler soon lost interest and came out to join me on the couch, which meant lots of kisses and snuggles for me. He's very affectionate lately, which is heart-melting, of course. He joined me in checking on the fish and turning on the asparagus, blowing more kisses to each part of our meal. We returned to the couch to read some more insect poems from Insectlopedia while supper finished up.
Suppertime! The toddler set the table for the boys while I got everything else ready. Grace had to be followed by "silly grace" ("Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub. Yay, God!"), introduced by the boys' Opa some years ago. It just never stops being funny, at least not when you're five and two. Dinner time conversation included the day's experiences, electricity (always electricity, thanks to the husband being an electrical engineering student), what happened to their Oma's fish (it died), and the fact that the husband and I would be turning 30 next year. The toddler was having a hungry night and ate as much as I did; other nights we're lucky to get more than a spoonful or two in his mouth. Toddlers are funny creatures.
After dinner, the boys wanted to talk with the above-mentioned Oma and Opa. The boy wanted to ask if his daddy's old Magic School Bus books were still at Oma's house, and the toddler wanted to talk more about the dead fish. After talking with them on Gmail video chat for a while, it was time for the evening's tidy, followed by snack (applesauce and cheese), a bedtime story, and teeth brushing. Since their dad takes care of the bedtime routine, I puttered around on the computer until they were ready, my cue to take over. As happens every night, the boy asked if they could go to bed by themselves. As happens every night, I declined his generous offer, as the rare attempts at letting them put themselves to bed invariably end up with them still chattering away to each other at midnight. So I grabbed my phone, glanced guiltily at the dirty dinner pots I had neglected to take care of while the boys were cleaning their toys, and headed into the bedroom to sit with them until the toddler fell asleep (usually a very short process, unless he's fallen asleep at any point during the day).
Late Evening
Tonight it took 30-40 minutes for him to stop squirming and talking long enough to fall asleep, during which I won several games of Ticket to Ride against my phone. I left the boy with a stack of books, a cup of water, and a dimmed light to read in bed for a while. He's always been our night owl and we've given up trying to change that. He reads until he falls asleep each night.
Back out of the bedroom, I decided to tackle the kitchen before sitting down. Better than having all the dirty pots and such staring at me for the rest of the evening, or worse, still there to greet me in the morning. Then I switched the hermit crabs' food dish with a fresh meal (tonight's crabby menu: avocado, dried cranberry, and asparagus; there would have also been a piece of salmon if I'd remember to save them some, but not a big deal since they just had tuna the night before). With everything taken care of, I sat down to update this post.
After texting back and forth with my sister for a bit, I decided to get comfortable in the bedroom with my laptop and some chocolate chips (tsk tsk again). I intended to spend some time fleshing out my Mother's Day blog post (How Motherhood Changed My View of God), which I had only briefly outlined thus far. First, though, I spent nearly an hour browsing through my feed reader to read other people's blogs. Funny how that always seems to happen. The husband, meanwhile, was busy studying for his next exam (or, more accurately, "studying for his next exam", AKA playing another take-over-the-world style computer game while eating taco chips).
Finally I started writing. An hour later, I had poured out my heart through the keyboard and felt spent, done for the night. I would write a closing paragraph and tidy it up another night. I browsed my favourite websites for a while until the husband came into the bedroom. We watched an episode of Arrested Development, read for a little while, and went to bed far too late. Two half-asleep boys stumbled into our bedroom shortly after.
An unfair combination of pregnancy insomnia, a full bladder, a squirmy baby-in-utero, and a complete inability to shut off my brain eventually kicked me out of bed out of sheer boredom; thus, here I am at 3am finishing off this entry. I hear the toddler stirring and muttering, so back to bed for me. Good night, all. It's been a blast.
Morning
I woke up this morning to find the husband gone for the day and the landlord trying to water the garden in front of our open bedroom window. I quickly closed the window before our bed got sprinkled with water (it wouldn't be the first time) and, since the boys were both still asleep, laid back down for a bit more sleep myself.
I woke up an hour later to the sound of the toddler playing cars on the floor, waiting for his brother to wake up. Next time I opened my eyes, the two of them were sitting in bed beside me reading a book together. The older asked for breakfast while the younger informed me he had pooed his diaper. Time to start the day. I felt much better and more well-rested than I had in a while. I was grateful they had given me the chance to sleep in, but now we had to get moving because I had to have my blood taken before lunch.
After cleaning up the toddler's diaper, we headed to the kitchen for breakfast. The boys had yogurt with granola I'd made the previous day. This sounds impressive until I confess that I'd been meaning to make a new batch for months, guiltily buying Mini Wheats and Cheerios in the meantime. Oh well.
My midwife had instructed me to have two eggs, toast, and butter before getting my blood drawn. Unfortunately we were out of bread, so I had a pita and hummus along with my two hard-boiled eggs. The boys finished their breakfast and came to assist me in finishing off my own. They're very helpful that way.
The boy dressed himself while I got the toddler ready. I used a wet comb in a mostly-failed attempt to smooth down the boy's unruly hair, which I had just cut the day before. The boys got their boots on while I quickly washed and dressed myself. I came out to find that they had both put their boots on the wrong feet; we headed outside anyway, grabbing the bag of library books I'd set by the front table the night before.
Got to the lab, found a parking spot, unbuckled both boys, and realized I'd forgotten the blood work form at home. Mentally kicked myself. Buckled the boys back in and drove back home for the paper. Grabbed it, drove back, found a new parking spot, unbuckled both boys, and doubled-checked for form, keys, and phone before locking the doors and heading to the lab. Scooped up the dawdling toddler a moment later, wanting to get a spot at the lab quickly before the lunch crowd started to arrive.
Fortunately, the waiting room was nearly empty when we walked in. The boys went to sit down while I checked in. As soon as I joined them, the toddler's string of "why's" began.
"Why is the mail truck stopped there?"
"So the mail delivery person can take the mail to the people it belongs to."
"Why?"
"So they can get their mail."
"Why?"
"So they can read their letters and pay their bills."
"Why?"
"..."
Gratefully, we were soon called back. We talked about the various medical supplies while waiting. I answered a couple dozen more why-questions. A lady came in, asked the boys if they were going to watch, and promptly stuck me with the needle. "See? Didn't hurt at all!" she said to the boys. Hah. It hurt. A lot. The boys watched intently while I kept my eyes resolutely locked in the other direction. Two vials later, she removed the needle and I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Yes, I'm a wimp.
We left the lab and headed to the bank to make a deposit. The boy put the card in and pressed all of the buttons for me (except the PIN; sorry, kid). Next we took a quick walk around the thrift store, where the boy found a small set of miniature block houses, the perfect addition to the extravagant "cities" he makes all over the living room floor most days.
The used book store was right across the street. We hadn't been for a while and I felt like browsing, even though we were planning to head to the library next. The boy settled himself down in front of the children's books. The toddler walked up and down the long aisles and jabbered excitedly about the store's resident cat, a fat old grey thing that was currently asleep next to the cash register. I felt winded after only a few minutes of wandering (a new pregnancy development, whoopee), so I sat myself down on the floor next to the boy to look at the children's books.
A slightly embarrassing fifty-five dollars later, we left the store with a stack of new-to-us books. The boy was no longer interested in going to the library today, and he also turned down my offer for lunch while we were out. He just wanted to go home and read all his new books. The toddler didn't care what we did, just so long as I stopped to let him pick up pinecones along the way. We dropped off the library books, went through the McDonald's drive thru to pick up an iced mocha for me and chocolate milk for them (tsk tsk, I know), and headed home.
Afternoon
The next four hours were spent reading through the new books. The boy had recently discovered The Magic School Bus series and had been thrilled to find a whole stack of them at the bookstore. He'd selected a few of them and was most excited about reading those. I was very disappointed; some of them were newer ones and the quality was terrible compared to the old-style ones written by Joanna Cole. Fortunately, I'd grabbed all of the older ones they'd had, suspecting this would be the case, and we'd only ended up with three of the awful newer ones. Most of the other books were excellent. My favourite was Iva Dunnit and the Big Wind by Carol Purdy; the boy's favourite (aside from the Magic School Bus books) was Extreme Dinosaurs by Robert Mash; the toddler's favourite was Insectlopedia by Douglas Florian.
We paused reading long enough to eat some tacos and homemade guacamole on a towel on the living room floor. The boy loves when we have indoor picnics like that. I said a silent prayer of thanks for the sweet way the toddler sucks the guacamole off his taco chip before eating the chip itself. Those little moments make my day; I paused to breathe in the beauty of the moment, the day, these children, the food.
After more reading, the boy climbed up to his craft area on the counter to experiment with his new "how to draw dinosaurs" book, and I took some time to write down our day thus far.
Early Evening
The husband arrived home at 5:00. He sat down with the kids and spent 20 minutes looking through their new books with them (particularly the Extreme Dinosaurs one, which he thought was pretty cool too) before heading into his office to check his email and whatnot.
5:30, time to get supper going. I did a quick tidy of the kitchen. The husband put the rice on while I made the sauce for the salmon and put it in the oven. I prepped the asparagus and left it waiting there until the rest of the meal was nearly done. I took a shot of my beloved Floradix, without which I can scarcely muster up the energy to even sit up, much less feed the children or do even a minimal amount of housework. I chased the Floradix with a square of chocolate, because hey, why not?
The boys went into the office with Daddy to play "the building game" while dinner cooked. The "building game" is actually Tropico 4. When I asked their very responsible father what the actual name of the game was, he asked if I was blogging about it. "I might make mention of it," I replied. He came out of his office with a slightly guilty look on his face to tell me that I may want some more information on the game before telling the "blog world" (his words) that my toddler and five-year-old play it with him. Turns out you can do some rather not-so-nice-or-ethical things as the dictator in this particular game. Oh yes, and it's rated Teen. Lovely. Just lovely. He assured me he keeps it very child-friendly. I glared at him anyway.
The toddler soon lost interest and came out to join me on the couch, which meant lots of kisses and snuggles for me. He's very affectionate lately, which is heart-melting, of course. He joined me in checking on the fish and turning on the asparagus, blowing more kisses to each part of our meal. We returned to the couch to read some more insect poems from Insectlopedia while supper finished up.
Suppertime! The toddler set the table for the boys while I got everything else ready. Grace had to be followed by "silly grace" ("Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub. Yay, God!"), introduced by the boys' Opa some years ago. It just never stops being funny, at least not when you're five and two. Dinner time conversation included the day's experiences, electricity (always electricity, thanks to the husband being an electrical engineering student), what happened to their Oma's fish (it died), and the fact that the husband and I would be turning 30 next year. The toddler was having a hungry night and ate as much as I did; other nights we're lucky to get more than a spoonful or two in his mouth. Toddlers are funny creatures.
After dinner, the boys wanted to talk with the above-mentioned Oma and Opa. The boy wanted to ask if his daddy's old Magic School Bus books were still at Oma's house, and the toddler wanted to talk more about the dead fish. After talking with them on Gmail video chat for a while, it was time for the evening's tidy, followed by snack (applesauce and cheese), a bedtime story, and teeth brushing. Since their dad takes care of the bedtime routine, I puttered around on the computer until they were ready, my cue to take over. As happens every night, the boy asked if they could go to bed by themselves. As happens every night, I declined his generous offer, as the rare attempts at letting them put themselves to bed invariably end up with them still chattering away to each other at midnight. So I grabbed my phone, glanced guiltily at the dirty dinner pots I had neglected to take care of while the boys were cleaning their toys, and headed into the bedroom to sit with them until the toddler fell asleep (usually a very short process, unless he's fallen asleep at any point during the day).
Late Evening
Tonight it took 30-40 minutes for him to stop squirming and talking long enough to fall asleep, during which I won several games of Ticket to Ride against my phone. I left the boy with a stack of books, a cup of water, and a dimmed light to read in bed for a while. He's always been our night owl and we've given up trying to change that. He reads until he falls asleep each night.
Back out of the bedroom, I decided to tackle the kitchen before sitting down. Better than having all the dirty pots and such staring at me for the rest of the evening, or worse, still there to greet me in the morning. Then I switched the hermit crabs' food dish with a fresh meal (tonight's crabby menu: avocado, dried cranberry, and asparagus; there would have also been a piece of salmon if I'd remember to save them some, but not a big deal since they just had tuna the night before). With everything taken care of, I sat down to update this post.
After texting back and forth with my sister for a bit, I decided to get comfortable in the bedroom with my laptop and some chocolate chips (tsk tsk again). I intended to spend some time fleshing out my Mother's Day blog post (How Motherhood Changed My View of God), which I had only briefly outlined thus far. First, though, I spent nearly an hour browsing through my feed reader to read other people's blogs. Funny how that always seems to happen. The husband, meanwhile, was busy studying for his next exam (or, more accurately, "studying for his next exam", AKA playing another take-over-the-world style computer game while eating taco chips).
Finally I started writing. An hour later, I had poured out my heart through the keyboard and felt spent, done for the night. I would write a closing paragraph and tidy it up another night. I browsed my favourite websites for a while until the husband came into the bedroom. We watched an episode of Arrested Development, read for a little while, and went to bed far too late. Two half-asleep boys stumbled into our bedroom shortly after.
An unfair combination of pregnancy insomnia, a full bladder, a squirmy baby-in-utero, and a complete inability to shut off my brain eventually kicked me out of bed out of sheer boredom; thus, here I am at 3am finishing off this entry. I hear the toddler stirring and muttering, so back to bed for me. Good night, all. It's been a blast.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Conviction and Comfort
Today marks the end of September's 30 day habit challenge. For those who joined in, how did it go?
Unlike August's attempt, with all the chaos of family vacations, this month's challenge felt like a success. I had purposed to spend more focused time with God, with a particular emphasis on reading Scripture. With the exception of a week spent with my mother-in-law, I was able to meet my goal without fail each day.
In order to make sure this remained a part of my daily routine (a new "just what I do"), I wanted to tie it to a specific time/event. I am, sadly, not one of those people who can drag themselves out of bed before the kids in order to start the day off with some quiet time of reading and prayer. Perhaps in another season of life, when I don't have nursing children to steal some of my sleep at night, but right now I am unable/unwilling to go quite that far. Instead, I found that the time I spent nursing the little one to sleep for his nap was the perfect opportunity to integrate this habit into our daily routine.
What blessing and relief it was to once again be spending time each day reading the Scriptures! The more I read, the more I wanted to read. The words remained in my mind throughout the day as I thought further about what I'd read and what it meant in light of the bigger picture of God's Story and my place in it.
Two passages in particular have remained on my mind over the past weeks, one bringing conviction and the other bringing comfort. I finished Romans early in the month before beginning another read through of the Torah. I must have read Romans 12-14 through a good half dozen times before moving on, and the two above-mentioned passages came from these chapters.
The first passage brought with it a strong sense of personal conviction. From Romans 12:9-21:
This is a beautiful passage and one, I'm sure, I've read countless times before, but this time it stood out to me in a new way. "Outdo one another in showing honor." When do I do that? "Bless those who persecute you." How often do I allow my petty hurts to get in the way of blessing those who have torn apart, twisted, and scorned my words? And so on and so forth throughout the passage. Some of it I do; all of it I could do better.
The next passage filled me with comfort and reassurance, bringing peace where there was once worry and uncertainty. From Romans 14 (emphasis added):
What comfort! Our differences need not divide us when we are each sincere in our faith. "The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God...whatever does not proceed from faith is sin." I know that I will continue to be judged, but there is comfort nonetheless in knowing that God sees our hearts and honours our sincere faith. That is not cause to become stagnant - our humility should always allow us to come to a new and more full understanding of God and His desires for us - but in the meantime, may our faith be as sincere as our love.
A new month begins tomorrow. I will once again be working to build habit into our routine. This month I will actually be working to reimplement a former habit of ours, reading aloud to the kids from one of the Gospels while they eat their lunch. We all enjoyed this previously but got out of the habit over the course of our busy summer. It's time to make this part of our daily routine once again.
Will you be joining us in October? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
Unlike August's attempt, with all the chaos of family vacations, this month's challenge felt like a success. I had purposed to spend more focused time with God, with a particular emphasis on reading Scripture. With the exception of a week spent with my mother-in-law, I was able to meet my goal without fail each day.
In order to make sure this remained a part of my daily routine (a new "just what I do"), I wanted to tie it to a specific time/event. I am, sadly, not one of those people who can drag themselves out of bed before the kids in order to start the day off with some quiet time of reading and prayer. Perhaps in another season of life, when I don't have nursing children to steal some of my sleep at night, but right now I am unable/unwilling to go quite that far. Instead, I found that the time I spent nursing the little one to sleep for his nap was the perfect opportunity to integrate this habit into our daily routine.
What blessing and relief it was to once again be spending time each day reading the Scriptures! The more I read, the more I wanted to read. The words remained in my mind throughout the day as I thought further about what I'd read and what it meant in light of the bigger picture of God's Story and my place in it.
Two passages in particular have remained on my mind over the past weeks, one bringing conviction and the other bringing comfort. I finished Romans early in the month before beginning another read through of the Torah. I must have read Romans 12-14 through a good half dozen times before moving on, and the two above-mentioned passages came from these chapters.
The first passage brought with it a strong sense of personal conviction. From Romans 12:9-21:
Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly, giving yourselves to humble tasks. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." To the contrary, "if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
This is a beautiful passage and one, I'm sure, I've read countless times before, but this time it stood out to me in a new way. "Outdo one another in showing honor." When do I do that? "Bless those who persecute you." How often do I allow my petty hurts to get in the way of blessing those who have torn apart, twisted, and scorned my words? And so on and so forth throughout the passage. Some of it I do; all of it I could do better.
The next passage filled me with comfort and reassurance, bringing peace where there was once worry and uncertainty. From Romans 14 (emphasis added):
As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.
One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God. For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.
Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written,
"As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,
and every tongue shall confess to God."
So then each of us will give an account of himself to God.
Therefore let us not pass judgment on one another any longer, but rather decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother. I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself, but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean. For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died. So do not let what you regard as good be spoken of as evil. For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by men. So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.
Do not, for the sake of food, destroy the work of God. Everything is indeed clean, but it is wrong for anyone to make another stumble by what he eats. It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble. The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who has no reason to pass judgment on himself for what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if he eats, because the eating is not from faith. For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.
What comfort! Our differences need not divide us when we are each sincere in our faith. "The faith that you have, keep between yourself and God...whatever does not proceed from faith is sin." I know that I will continue to be judged, but there is comfort nonetheless in knowing that God sees our hearts and honours our sincere faith. That is not cause to become stagnant - our humility should always allow us to come to a new and more full understanding of God and His desires for us - but in the meantime, may our faith be as sincere as our love.
A new month begins tomorrow. I will once again be working to build habit into our routine. This month I will actually be working to reimplement a former habit of ours, reading aloud to the kids from one of the Gospels while they eat their lunch. We all enjoyed this previously but got out of the habit over the course of our busy summer. It's time to make this part of our daily routine once again.
Will you be joining us in October? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
Friday, 23 September 2011
Fruits of the season
The cold rain, usually so dreary, feels like the perfect way to usher in fall. The yellow-green leaves flutter in the swaying poplar trees outside. We have spent this quiet week with my mother-in-law, just the kids and I, enjoying the space of the country and the slower pace of a small town.
With the start of a new season, I think on our traditions - our birthday celebrations, our summer solstice dinner at the beach, other family traditions that are slowly, one by one, working their way into our lives and memories - and I wonder about fall. How can we commemorate this season each year?
Fall. A slowing down, an exhalation after the excitement of summer. A season of preparation for the winter ahead. A pull towards the comfort of home.
Slow...preparation...comfort...home. I know.
We spend a day peeling, cooking, mixing, scooping, pouring, boiling, sealing. Mother-in-law patiently instructs as we fill the jars just so. Lids seal with a satisfying pop, summer's riches stored for the less bountiful months ahead. Jars sparkle like jewels on the counter. I breathe a sigh of satisfaction every time I walk by. Perfect.
And so a new tradition is born.
With the start of a new season, I think on our traditions - our birthday celebrations, our summer solstice dinner at the beach, other family traditions that are slowly, one by one, working their way into our lives and memories - and I wonder about fall. How can we commemorate this season each year?
Fall. A slowing down, an exhalation after the excitement of summer. A season of preparation for the winter ahead. A pull towards the comfort of home.
Slow...preparation...comfort...home. I know.
We spend a day peeling, cooking, mixing, scooping, pouring, boiling, sealing. Mother-in-law patiently instructs as we fill the jars just so. Lids seal with a satisfying pop, summer's riches stored for the less bountiful months ahead. Jars sparkle like jewels on the counter. I breathe a sigh of satisfaction every time I walk by. Perfect.
And so a new tradition is born.
Pasta sauce, salsa, and cinnamon peach preserves
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Fall is calling
Fall is calling. I can hear it in the breeze. I can smell it in the rain, taste it in the new fall apples, see it in the reddening leaves. I can feel it in the cold night air pouring through the open window as I cuddle warm under the blankets with my beloved.
It is raining after weeks of glorious sun. Boys grab rain jackets and go outside to play. I sit at the open window, taking pictures and breathing in the smell of my warm jasmine tea and the cool fresh air.
The boy's new boots are bright blurs as he runs around the yard, head back and mouth wide open to catch the falling rain. The little one wears cast-offs from his big brother, too big, soon left somewhere in the grass as he runs and falls and crawls in pink bare feet.
Fall is calling. My thoughts turn towards apple picking and fall baking, pumpkin pies and hay rides. Thanksgiving plans fall into place. Books pile high on couches, boy-turning-reader who still wants to hear them in his mother's voice. Stews and soups are set on the dinner table beside warm biscuits. The bright greens and blues of summer are replaced with yellow and orange, red and brown. I begin to knit a sweater.
Fall is calling, and I have come to love it.
It is raining after weeks of glorious sun. Boys grab rain jackets and go outside to play. I sit at the open window, taking pictures and breathing in the smell of my warm jasmine tea and the cool fresh air.
The boy's new boots are bright blurs as he runs around the yard, head back and mouth wide open to catch the falling rain. The little one wears cast-offs from his big brother, too big, soon left somewhere in the grass as he runs and falls and crawls in pink bare feet.
Fall is calling. My thoughts turn towards apple picking and fall baking, pumpkin pies and hay rides. Thanksgiving plans fall into place. Books pile high on couches, boy-turning-reader who still wants to hear them in his mother's voice. Stews and soups are set on the dinner table beside warm biscuits. The bright greens and blues of summer are replaced with yellow and orange, red and brown. I begin to knit a sweater.
Fall is calling, and I have come to love it.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
New month, new challenge
Our 30 day habit challenge has ended. For those who joined in, how did you do? Have you created a new habit, a new "just what you do" in your life?
For myself, I can't call this month a habit-forming success. Two weeks of family vacations were not terribly conducive to creating habit. Integrating habit into your everyday routine is difficult to do when your typical routine has gone out the window, replaced by long days spent at the beach and late evenings spent playing games and talking with loved ones.
I am not, however, going to call the past month a complete failure, either. I did discover a way to read the Bible notation-free, I learned that habit formation is best done within typical routine, and I did get more Bible reading done than I would have had I not been attempting this challenge. While it might not be a resounding success, I'll take what I can from the experience.
Tomorrow is a new month and, with summer quickly coming to an end, another chance to spend 30 days developing a new habit. As with last month, I want to invite you to join in. Pick a new habit and just do it consistently for the next 30 days, until it's simply "what you do", an easy part of your daily routine.
I am going to tackle, once again, spending focused time with God, with a particular emphasis on reading Scripture. August was a decent start, but if there is any one habit I want (and need) in my life right now, it is this one. With our typical routine once again in place this month, I can work towards making this habit a natural part of that.
Will you be joining us in September? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
For myself, I can't call this month a habit-forming success. Two weeks of family vacations were not terribly conducive to creating habit. Integrating habit into your everyday routine is difficult to do when your typical routine has gone out the window, replaced by long days spent at the beach and late evenings spent playing games and talking with loved ones.
I am not, however, going to call the past month a complete failure, either. I did discover a way to read the Bible notation-free, I learned that habit formation is best done within typical routine, and I did get more Bible reading done than I would have had I not been attempting this challenge. While it might not be a resounding success, I'll take what I can from the experience.
Tomorrow is a new month and, with summer quickly coming to an end, another chance to spend 30 days developing a new habit. As with last month, I want to invite you to join in. Pick a new habit and just do it consistently for the next 30 days, until it's simply "what you do", an easy part of your daily routine.
I am going to tackle, once again, spending focused time with God, with a particular emphasis on reading Scripture. August was a decent start, but if there is any one habit I want (and need) in my life right now, it is this one. With our typical routine once again in place this month, I can work towards making this habit a natural part of that.
Will you be joining us in September? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
Friday, 29 July 2011
One habit at a time
If there is one thing that has improved my ability to lead an intentional life, it is the idea of one habit at a time.
Pick a new habit and just start doing it, consistently, until it's simply "what you do".
This has immensely improved my housekeeping. It has been the only thing that has successfully brought some semblance of routine into my life. I'd say it has even improved my relationships. My self-care. My practical devotion to God. Pretty much any sustainable change in my life has happened one habit at a time.
The big one for me was not letting the dishes pile up. So I started cleaning the kitchen every night after supper. I load the dishwasher, hand-wash the pots and such, wipe down the counters and table, and sweep up the dinner crumbs if necessary. Now it's just "what I do", and it feels so good to wake up in the morning to a clean kitchen.
Once that was second nature, I picked a new habit - bedtime tidy. The boys put their toys away and I do a quick tidy of the living room, entrance, and bedroom. Now it's just part of their bedtime routine - it's just "what we do".
A daily load of laundry...an afternoon quiet time...a weekly clean of the bathroom...pick one habit in whatever area most needs it or would be personally satisfying for you to implement and force yourself to do it until it becomes second nature. Focusing on one habit at a time is a lot simpler and more sustainable that trying to do a major overhaul and ending up burnt out after a couple of weeks.
As I was writing this post and considering what habit I should focus on next, my lovely sister-in-law sent me a link to a TED talk by Matt Cutts, "Try something new for 30 days". The idea is similar - do something, anything, for 30 days in order to develop a new habit and boost your self-confidence.
Why not, indeed. That turned out to be my sister-in-law's opinion as well. She suggested that we pick a 30 day challenge together - something achievable but worthwhile. As we talked, we discovered that we both wanted (needed) to be more intentional in our personal relationships with God. Prayer, Bible reading, whatever, just daily time spent with God, no excuses.
We'll be starting our 30 day challenge on Monday, the beginning of August. Would you like to join us? Choose your own 30 day challenge or join us in a daily focused time with God. We'll be checking back in at the end of the month to review our progress. Did we succeed? Did we learn anything? Did we develop a new habit, a new "something that we just do"?
Small, sustainable change...one habit at a time.
Will you be joining us? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
Pick a new habit and just start doing it, consistently, until it's simply "what you do".
This has immensely improved my housekeeping. It has been the only thing that has successfully brought some semblance of routine into my life. I'd say it has even improved my relationships. My self-care. My practical devotion to God. Pretty much any sustainable change in my life has happened one habit at a time.
The big one for me was not letting the dishes pile up. So I started cleaning the kitchen every night after supper. I load the dishwasher, hand-wash the pots and such, wipe down the counters and table, and sweep up the dinner crumbs if necessary. Now it's just "what I do", and it feels so good to wake up in the morning to a clean kitchen.
Once that was second nature, I picked a new habit - bedtime tidy. The boys put their toys away and I do a quick tidy of the living room, entrance, and bedroom. Now it's just part of their bedtime routine - it's just "what we do".
A daily load of laundry...an afternoon quiet time...a weekly clean of the bathroom...pick one habit in whatever area most needs it or would be personally satisfying for you to implement and force yourself to do it until it becomes second nature. Focusing on one habit at a time is a lot simpler and more sustainable that trying to do a major overhaul and ending up burnt out after a couple of weeks.
As I was writing this post and considering what habit I should focus on next, my lovely sister-in-law sent me a link to a TED talk by Matt Cutts, "Try something new for 30 days". The idea is similar - do something, anything, for 30 days in order to develop a new habit and boost your self-confidence.
"I guarantee you, the next 30 days are going to pass whether you like it or not. So why not think about something you have always wanted to try, and give it a shot...for the next 30 days."
Why not, indeed. That turned out to be my sister-in-law's opinion as well. She suggested that we pick a 30 day challenge together - something achievable but worthwhile. As we talked, we discovered that we both wanted (needed) to be more intentional in our personal relationships with God. Prayer, Bible reading, whatever, just daily time spent with God, no excuses.
We'll be starting our 30 day challenge on Monday, the beginning of August. Would you like to join us? Choose your own 30 day challenge or join us in a daily focused time with God. We'll be checking back in at the end of the month to review our progress. Did we succeed? Did we learn anything? Did we develop a new habit, a new "something that we just do"?
Small, sustainable change...one habit at a time.
Will you be joining us? If so, what challenge have you chosen to take on for the next 30 days?
Monday, 25 July 2011
Checking in with this year's themes
With the year more than halfway over, I've found myself thinking more frequently about my 2011 themes. Somehow the second half of the year always passes by so quickly, much of it a whirlwind of holiday planning. More opportunities to allow these themes to take deeper root in my life, yes, but what progress have I made so far?
Enjoying and Rejoicing
Some days I am so good at this. Other days, I lose my focus and slip instead into a distracted, reactionary, negative frame of mind.
To my surprise, I have discovered that my greatest joy-sapper is my computer. As it eats away at my time, it takes with it my presence, my awareness, and my productivity. A few minutes here and there seems like no big deal at the time, but then I reach the end of the day and find little joy has come of it. Oh, it has its benefits! The community, support, and encouragement I find online is invaluable. I would not be the parent I am if not for the people and information here. But it would be an unconscionable irony to allow that same positive research to detract from my presence with my children.
In line with this theme, one of my more recently-developed habits has been purposefully offering thanks for each new day. Most mornings find me wanting to stay under the covers and put off beginning the day for as long as possible. I'm a night owl; I've never been a morning person. Intentionally stopping that line of thinking and replacing it with a prayer of thanks for the morning has given me a far more positive perspective and attitude when it comes time to get out of bed. Gratitude that embraces the moment, seeking beauty and contentment in what is, truly does lead to the deepest joy.
Routine
I thought I was getting nowhere with this one. And then I discovered that, little by little, routine was slipping into our lives. One habit at a time.
Again, my biggest detractor from a good routine? The computer. "I'll just finish reading this one thing..." When I intentionally limit my online time, our days pass smoothly. When I allow myself a lazy day and spend too much of it idly clicking through page after page, I find myself irritable and reluctant to get on with what needs to be done. Self-discipline in this area is imperative, and I am glad for the awareness that being too lax in this area detracts from not one, but both of this year's themes.
Nonetheless, routine is slipping into our lives, a comfortable expectation of what will be done when and followed by what. Beyond the comfort and security of daily routines, we are forming more and more family traditions to help celebrate the seasons, holidays, and special family events. Sometimes I find myself discouraged - "we don't have enough family traditions!" - and then I remember that our family is still so young. Of course we don't have a lot of traditions. Every tradition, though, begins with a "first annual". Our traditions and unique ways of celebrating will grow and evolve along with our family. I want to create a haven of memories for my children and a storehouse of family traditions from which they can draw if they so choose.
I feel content with this progress and eager to discover what the rest of the year will bring. Reflecting has given me pause to consider how I can best further these themes over the next few months. It is helpful, too, to realize where my biggest hindrances lie so that I can be particularly intentional in those areas.
Enjoy and rejoice. Build routine.
Refocus.
Enjoying and Rejoicing
"This year, I will seek to enjoy God and to rejoice in all things. I want the root of both, joy, to overflow in our lives through our gratitude, our thanks, and our praise. I want our joy - our light! - to bring glory to God. I want to tell of the good He has done in our lives! I want to delight in Him and be content in every circumstance, ever praising Him and singing of His Glory. I want to enjoy and rejoice."
Some days I am so good at this. Other days, I lose my focus and slip instead into a distracted, reactionary, negative frame of mind.
To my surprise, I have discovered that my greatest joy-sapper is my computer. As it eats away at my time, it takes with it my presence, my awareness, and my productivity. A few minutes here and there seems like no big deal at the time, but then I reach the end of the day and find little joy has come of it. Oh, it has its benefits! The community, support, and encouragement I find online is invaluable. I would not be the parent I am if not for the people and information here. But it would be an unconscionable irony to allow that same positive research to detract from my presence with my children.
In line with this theme, one of my more recently-developed habits has been purposefully offering thanks for each new day. Most mornings find me wanting to stay under the covers and put off beginning the day for as long as possible. I'm a night owl; I've never been a morning person. Intentionally stopping that line of thinking and replacing it with a prayer of thanks for the morning has given me a far more positive perspective and attitude when it comes time to get out of bed. Gratitude that embraces the moment, seeking beauty and contentment in what is, truly does lead to the deepest joy.
Routine
"A challenge for my distractable and disorganized self, I will work this year towards building an intentional rhythm into our lives. I want to mark the rhythm of our days, our weeks, our seasons, our years. I want the comfort and security of routines for my preschooler. I want to strengthen my marriage with time set aside just for us. I want more (computer-)screen-free time that we can all count on and benefit from. I want to continue our journey towards intentional living, ensuring that the things we value are not forgotten as our time idly slips away from us. I want an ever-evolving framework our family can grow up in. I want rhythm."
I thought I was getting nowhere with this one. And then I discovered that, little by little, routine was slipping into our lives. One habit at a time.
Again, my biggest detractor from a good routine? The computer. "I'll just finish reading this one thing..." When I intentionally limit my online time, our days pass smoothly. When I allow myself a lazy day and spend too much of it idly clicking through page after page, I find myself irritable and reluctant to get on with what needs to be done. Self-discipline in this area is imperative, and I am glad for the awareness that being too lax in this area detracts from not one, but both of this year's themes.
Nonetheless, routine is slipping into our lives, a comfortable expectation of what will be done when and followed by what. Beyond the comfort and security of daily routines, we are forming more and more family traditions to help celebrate the seasons, holidays, and special family events. Sometimes I find myself discouraged - "we don't have enough family traditions!" - and then I remember that our family is still so young. Of course we don't have a lot of traditions. Every tradition, though, begins with a "first annual". Our traditions and unique ways of celebrating will grow and evolve along with our family. I want to create a haven of memories for my children and a storehouse of family traditions from which they can draw if they so choose.
I feel content with this progress and eager to discover what the rest of the year will bring. Reflecting has given me pause to consider how I can best further these themes over the next few months. It is helpful, too, to realize where my biggest hindrances lie so that I can be particularly intentional in those areas.
Enjoy and rejoice. Build routine.
Refocus.
Monday, 31 January 2011
A daily rhythm
The first month of the new year is ending. I find myself reflecting on our themes for the year - joy and rhythm - both of which have been daily on my mind this month. I learned to take joy in our quiet life, but rhythm - ah, rhythm. I have been asking myself the questions, but the answers are slow in coming. How can we best find routine in our days? How can we mark the passage of time throughout the year? What traditions can we bring into our home to bear witness to it? What are our priorities, and what can we prune to support them?
This weekend, we took our first steps toward a more intentional daily rhythm. Following the "My Day Timer" project in our Clubhouse Jr magazine (a Christmas gift from his Oma), we created a foam clock. The clock has one picture per hour; each picture corresponds to the hour's activity. We adjusted the original instructions to meet our typical day, starting with breakfast at 9:00am and ending with bedtime at 8:00pm. With lunch at 12:00pm and dinner at 6:00pm, we filled in the rest with our various activities - reading, playing, cleaning up, and so on.
9:00 Breakfast
10:00 Reading
11:00 Colouring
12:00 Lunch
1:00 Rest
2:00 Play
3:00 Outside
4:00 Snack
5:00 Play
6:00 Supper
7:00 Clean-up
8:00 Bedtime
The boy is enamored with his clock. He refers to it throughout the day, and this thing is pretty much gospel to him. When Mom says it's rest time? Whine protest whine. But when the clock says it's rest time? He's resting.
Man. I needed one of these things, like, a year ago.
So far so good, but it's only been a couple days. My concern is our (more specifically, his) flexibility on the days when our routine needs to be changed - our Thursday playgroup, weekends when Daddy is home, busy days or slow days when things just don't flow as they normally do. Still, it provides us with a starting point, and it provides my routine-loving preschooler with something tangible and interactive to refer to.
In the meantime, I'm already plotting an upgrade. Interchangeable options...velcro or magnets...weekly or monthly instead of (in addition to?) daily...we'll see.
But this? This is a good start. A movement towards rhythm. A comforting predictability.
One more step on our journey towards intentional living.
This weekend, we took our first steps toward a more intentional daily rhythm. Following the "My Day Timer" project in our Clubhouse Jr magazine (a Christmas gift from his Oma), we created a foam clock. The clock has one picture per hour; each picture corresponds to the hour's activity. We adjusted the original instructions to meet our typical day, starting with breakfast at 9:00am and ending with bedtime at 8:00pm. With lunch at 12:00pm and dinner at 6:00pm, we filled in the rest with our various activities - reading, playing, cleaning up, and so on.
9:00 Breakfast
10:00 Reading
11:00 Colouring
12:00 Lunch
1:00 Rest
2:00 Play
3:00 Outside
4:00 Snack
5:00 Play
6:00 Supper
7:00 Clean-up
8:00 Bedtime
The boy is enamored with his clock. He refers to it throughout the day, and this thing is pretty much gospel to him. When Mom says it's rest time? Whine protest whine. But when the clock says it's rest time? He's resting.
Man. I needed one of these things, like, a year ago.
So far so good, but it's only been a couple days. My concern is our (more specifically, his) flexibility on the days when our routine needs to be changed - our Thursday playgroup, weekends when Daddy is home, busy days or slow days when things just don't flow as they normally do. Still, it provides us with a starting point, and it provides my routine-loving preschooler with something tangible and interactive to refer to.
In the meantime, I'm already plotting an upgrade. Interchangeable options...velcro or magnets...weekly or monthly instead of (in addition to?) daily...we'll see.
But this? This is a good start. A movement towards rhythm. A comforting predictability.
One more step on our journey towards intentional living.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
Welcome 2011!
A new year. A fresh start. A renewed hope.
If 2010 had any themes for us, they were grace and intention. It was a calm year, a quiet year, settling into our new home with our new baby, and the perfect year to allow those two themes to flourish in our lives. I learned better how to extend grace to my children, extend grace to others, extend grace to myself, and receive grace myself. I practiced intentional living, making our choices with purpose and deliberation. It was a good year. I leave it feeling satisfied.
As we enter into 2011, I feel our themes shifting. Building on grace, I want this to be a year of enjoying and rejoicing in that grace. Building on intention, I want this to be the year we build a comforting rhythm into our lives. I am excited for this year, for these new themes.
Enjoying and Rejoicing
Rhythm
Grace leading to joy. Intention leading to rhythm. A new year building on the work of the last. I feel content today, hopeful for what this new year will hold.
Wishing you all a joyful new year!
If 2010 had any themes for us, they were grace and intention. It was a calm year, a quiet year, settling into our new home with our new baby, and the perfect year to allow those two themes to flourish in our lives. I learned better how to extend grace to my children, extend grace to others, extend grace to myself, and receive grace myself. I practiced intentional living, making our choices with purpose and deliberation. It was a good year. I leave it feeling satisfied.
As we enter into 2011, I feel our themes shifting. Building on grace, I want this to be a year of enjoying and rejoicing in that grace. Building on intention, I want this to be the year we build a comforting rhythm into our lives. I am excited for this year, for these new themes.
Enjoying and Rejoicing
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”This year, I will seek to enjoy God and to rejoice in all things. I want the root of both, joy, to overflow in our lives through our gratitude, our thanks, and our praise. I want our joy - our light! - to bring glory to God. I want to tell of the good He has done in our lives! I want to delight in Him and be content in every circumstance, ever praising Him and singing of His Glory. I want to enjoy and rejoice.
Philippians 4:4
Rhythm
“The go-with-the-flow infant days are over; my antsy preschooler and his distractable mama need a rhythm we can flow with through the days. A predictable beginning, middle, and end, with room to wander as life leads us, will lend stability and peace to our lives.”A challenge for my distractable and disorganized self, I will work this year towards building an intentional rhythm into our lives. I want to mark the rhythm of our days, our weeks, our seasons, our years. I want the comfort and security of routines for my preschooler. I want to strengthen my marriage with time set aside just for us. I want more (computer-)screen-free time that we can all count on and benefit from. I want to continue our journey towards intentional living, ensuring that the things we value are not forgotten as our time idly slips away from us. I want an ever-evolving framework our family can grow up in. I want rhythm.
The Quiet Place
Grace leading to joy. Intention leading to rhythm. A new year building on the work of the last. I feel content today, hopeful for what this new year will hold.
Wishing you all a joyful new year!
Thursday, 2 December 2010
Our Advent
Advent, coming, our time of expectant preparation, has begun. Our family is young, our traditions still fluid, and so we take this, leave that, seeking our unique way to prepare for and celebrate the joyous coming of our Lord.
In keeping with our family's priorities, our Advent activities this year have three goals:
Focused
We draw our hearts towards His coming. We begin at the beginning, seeing the bigger picture form as we read through our Jesse tree devotional. He is the center of this season, the One we are preparing for. This year we supplement our usual readings with the beautiful words of Ann at A Holy Experience. We keep our preparations focused.
Simple
With some sadness, we leave our Advent wreath put away this year. We will be travelling soon, visiting loved ones, and those last unlit candles always feel so unfinished. We sing the old familiar Advent hymns, and we talk, always talk, about the expectant joy of this season, but we leave out those things which threaten to become burdensome rather than useful or joyful. We are careful not to take on too much nor to allow busy distractions to crowd out our time together. We keep our preparations simple.
Intentional
This season should be simple, yes, and not burdensome, but neither do we want to fritter it away with good intentions and no follow-through. We want to live with intention, and so we create an Advent calendar for our family, guiding our December with thoughtful deliberation. We keep our preparations intentional.
Instead of candy or gifts, each day holds one activity. Some big, some small. Some fun for us, some blessings for others. Some keep us indoors, some take us out into our neighbourhood or further. Each activity is recorded on a sheet of paper, then folded into an envelope and hung, side-by-side with the rest, on a string on the wall. One envelope will be opened each morning, and when the envelopes are gone, it will be Christmas.
In determining the activities, we considered our priorities, local events, and the memories we wanted to create this season. Writing them down ensures that our plans become reality. It also makes it easy to confirm that the supplies we need are on hand and ready to go.
With room for flexibility and other endeavors, these are the activities we will be doing each day:
1 Decorate the Christmas tree
2 Paint a Christmas ornament
3 Go to a German Christmas festival
4 Go to a neighbourhood Christmas tree lighting
5 Make a pinecone craft and drink wassail
6 Go to the mall to buy our annual Christmas ornaments and an Angel Tree gift
7 Phone grandparents to sing Christmas songs
8 Bake Christmas cookies
9 Do a Mailbox blessing
10 Have our friends over for dinner
11 Take Christmas pictures
12 Make Christmas cards
13 Attend the Community Carol Sing
14 Go for a moonlit walk
15 Go to a Festival of Lights
16 Make cookies for a neighbour
17 Watch a Christmas movie (Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey)
18 Leave for Oma & Opa's house
19 (The baby's first birthday) Make peanut butter cookies*
20 Cut down a Christmas tree
21 Make a popcorn-and-cranberry chain
22 Go for a nature walk
23 Read Christmas stories
24 CHRISTMAS EVE - Have a birthday party for Jesus
25 CHRISTMAS DAY!
*The boy was continually asking me if he could give nuts to the baby yet. I told him he couldn't have nuts until his first birthday (rather foolish and arbitrary, really, since I'm quite certain I didn't prevent all of those nuts from making their way into the baby's mouth, but it feels like the "right thing to do"). The boy decided that the best way to celebrate the baby being "allowed" to have nuts would be to make peanut butter cookies for his birthday. Who needs cake? We're having peanut butter cookies!
Focused. Simple. Intentional.
What are your goals for the season? How will you be preparing and celebrating?
In keeping with our family's priorities, our Advent activities this year have three goals:
Focused
We draw our hearts towards His coming. We begin at the beginning, seeing the bigger picture form as we read through our Jesse tree devotional. He is the center of this season, the One we are preparing for. This year we supplement our usual readings with the beautiful words of Ann at A Holy Experience. We keep our preparations focused.
Simple
With some sadness, we leave our Advent wreath put away this year. We will be travelling soon, visiting loved ones, and those last unlit candles always feel so unfinished. We sing the old familiar Advent hymns, and we talk, always talk, about the expectant joy of this season, but we leave out those things which threaten to become burdensome rather than useful or joyful. We are careful not to take on too much nor to allow busy distractions to crowd out our time together. We keep our preparations simple.
Intentional
This season should be simple, yes, and not burdensome, but neither do we want to fritter it away with good intentions and no follow-through. We want to live with intention, and so we create an Advent calendar for our family, guiding our December with thoughtful deliberation. We keep our preparations intentional.
Instead of candy or gifts, each day holds one activity. Some big, some small. Some fun for us, some blessings for others. Some keep us indoors, some take us out into our neighbourhood or further. Each activity is recorded on a sheet of paper, then folded into an envelope and hung, side-by-side with the rest, on a string on the wall. One envelope will be opened each morning, and when the envelopes are gone, it will be Christmas.
In determining the activities, we considered our priorities, local events, and the memories we wanted to create this season. Writing them down ensures that our plans become reality. It also makes it easy to confirm that the supplies we need are on hand and ready to go.
With room for flexibility and other endeavors, these are the activities we will be doing each day:
1 Decorate the Christmas tree
2 Paint a Christmas ornament
3 Go to a German Christmas festival
4 Go to a neighbourhood Christmas tree lighting
5 Make a pinecone craft and drink wassail
6 Go to the mall to buy our annual Christmas ornaments and an Angel Tree gift
7 Phone grandparents to sing Christmas songs
8 Bake Christmas cookies
9 Do a Mailbox blessing
10 Have our friends over for dinner
11 Take Christmas pictures
12 Make Christmas cards
13 Attend the Community Carol Sing
14 Go for a moonlit walk
15 Go to a Festival of Lights
16 Make cookies for a neighbour
17 Watch a Christmas movie (Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey)
18 Leave for Oma & Opa's house
19 (The baby's first birthday) Make peanut butter cookies*
20 Cut down a Christmas tree
21 Make a popcorn-and-cranberry chain
22 Go for a nature walk
23 Read Christmas stories
24 CHRISTMAS EVE - Have a birthday party for Jesus
25 CHRISTMAS DAY!
*The boy was continually asking me if he could give nuts to the baby yet. I told him he couldn't have nuts until his first birthday (rather foolish and arbitrary, really, since I'm quite certain I didn't prevent all of those nuts from making their way into the baby's mouth, but it feels like the "right thing to do"). The boy decided that the best way to celebrate the baby being "allowed" to have nuts would be to make peanut butter cookies for his birthday. Who needs cake? We're having peanut butter cookies!
Focused. Simple. Intentional.
What are your goals for the season? How will you be preparing and celebrating?
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
The quiet place
My thoughts, my emotions, both have been such a jumbled mess lately. I feel torn in a hundred different directions and I find myself drawing inward, seeking grounding in this quiet inner place.
Part of me is reaching out, longing for stronger community, deeper connection, sincere and lasting relationships. Another part of me is drawing away, deeply hurt by other relationships, the desire for reconciliation warring with the desire to give in to the sadness and hurt and anger. Another part of me is frustrated that my desire for community and connection is so often thwarted, whether by circumstances or people or even myself. And still another part is quietly reminding me that while relationship is a good, God-ordained thing, my ultimate fulfillment must come from God alone.
I feel angered by the church, disgusted by twisted doctrines and misplaced priorities, repelled by the false humility, saddened by so many misunderstandings of God and Christ and what it all means. I long for more opportunities to serve Him, to speak of His irreplaceable Love, to fellowship with those who are sincere and beautifully imperfect, those saints who are covered in the blood of Jesus. I am wooed by my first Love, called back even as life tempts me away, and yet desperately clinging to the One truth, the One unfailing, the One unchanging, the One righteous.
I feel blessed beyond measure for what I have been granted in this life, these two boys. The weight and privilege of their upbringing bring me equal parts joy and terror. I feel confident one moment and overwhelmed the next. I want to be here for them when they need me; I want quiet moments to myself; I want time with my peers and my peers alone to develop and strengthen those soul-lifting friendships. How can I be everything to everyone, even myself?
My heart hurts for the sins and tragedies of this world. For those who are abused at the hands of another. For the children who grow up watching it, later becoming the abuser and the abused, always the cycles, those sins of the fathers! For those families torn apart by divorce. For the shocking cruelty humans can show one another. I long for Jesus to return, to wash this world of its sin.
My house began to reflect the chaos within. Odd how those habits which take so long to create can be dropped so quickly, dishes piling up, floors unswept, washing machine sitting idle, mornings beginning as untidily as they ended the night before. Interesting, too, how such outward chaos only feeds that within, not only for myself but for the rest of my family.
Again, always, it comes back to one thing: deliberation. Living with intention, with purpose, fully present in the moment.
And so I pull us back towards peace.
Simplicity
I clear away the clutter, climb back on top of the housework, and once again witness the calming effect that order and simplicity have on a family. I remind myself of the influence a mother has over her household. If I turn myself over to idleness, the rest follow suit. If I speak harshly and am quick to anger, my attitude is adopted by the rest. If I choose that which is easy over that which is good, I lead the rest down the same path. At times, this responsibility lays heavy and threatens to overwhelm, but I know that I must shoulder it nonetheless.
Routine
I begin to shape our days into a comforting routine. The go-with-the-flow infant days are over; my antsy preschooler and his distractable mama need a rhythm we can flow with through the days. A predictable beginning, middle, and end, with room to wander as life leads us, will lend stability and peace to our lives.
The Word
I return to my first Love, beginning our days with physical food followed by the living bread of God's Word. I sip tea from my favourite mug, warm under a blanket, and murmur the words aloud. My young audience comes and goes, sitting near me to listen for a while, then running off to play, soon back again to hear more.
It's not the quiet time I once knew, but I'm learning to work with this new reality.
"'The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.' Baby, I see you crawling towards the stairs..."
*excited baby squeal*
"'As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him. For who is God besides the LORD? And who is the Rock except our God? It is God who-'"
"Help, I'm stuck! Mommy, let me out, I'm stuck!"
"'This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God. After this, Jesus and his disciples-' No, sweetheart, the baby can't have one of your candies."
"But I wanted to share with him!"
Such is life, my life, and I praise God for it - for these two adorable little "interruptions", for the guiding light of His Word, and for His peace that passes all understanding.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)
Part of me is reaching out, longing for stronger community, deeper connection, sincere and lasting relationships. Another part of me is drawing away, deeply hurt by other relationships, the desire for reconciliation warring with the desire to give in to the sadness and hurt and anger. Another part of me is frustrated that my desire for community and connection is so often thwarted, whether by circumstances or people or even myself. And still another part is quietly reminding me that while relationship is a good, God-ordained thing, my ultimate fulfillment must come from God alone.
I feel angered by the church, disgusted by twisted doctrines and misplaced priorities, repelled by the false humility, saddened by so many misunderstandings of God and Christ and what it all means. I long for more opportunities to serve Him, to speak of His irreplaceable Love, to fellowship with those who are sincere and beautifully imperfect, those saints who are covered in the blood of Jesus. I am wooed by my first Love, called back even as life tempts me away, and yet desperately clinging to the One truth, the One unfailing, the One unchanging, the One righteous.
I feel blessed beyond measure for what I have been granted in this life, these two boys. The weight and privilege of their upbringing bring me equal parts joy and terror. I feel confident one moment and overwhelmed the next. I want to be here for them when they need me; I want quiet moments to myself; I want time with my peers and my peers alone to develop and strengthen those soul-lifting friendships. How can I be everything to everyone, even myself?
My heart hurts for the sins and tragedies of this world. For those who are abused at the hands of another. For the children who grow up watching it, later becoming the abuser and the abused, always the cycles, those sins of the fathers! For those families torn apart by divorce. For the shocking cruelty humans can show one another. I long for Jesus to return, to wash this world of its sin.
My house began to reflect the chaos within. Odd how those habits which take so long to create can be dropped so quickly, dishes piling up, floors unswept, washing machine sitting idle, mornings beginning as untidily as they ended the night before. Interesting, too, how such outward chaos only feeds that within, not only for myself but for the rest of my family.
Again, always, it comes back to one thing: deliberation. Living with intention, with purpose, fully present in the moment.
And so I pull us back towards peace.
Simplicity
I clear away the clutter, climb back on top of the housework, and once again witness the calming effect that order and simplicity have on a family. I remind myself of the influence a mother has over her household. If I turn myself over to idleness, the rest follow suit. If I speak harshly and am quick to anger, my attitude is adopted by the rest. If I choose that which is easy over that which is good, I lead the rest down the same path. At times, this responsibility lays heavy and threatens to overwhelm, but I know that I must shoulder it nonetheless.
Routine
I begin to shape our days into a comforting routine. The go-with-the-flow infant days are over; my antsy preschooler and his distractable mama need a rhythm we can flow with through the days. A predictable beginning, middle, and end, with room to wander as life leads us, will lend stability and peace to our lives.
The Word
I return to my first Love, beginning our days with physical food followed by the living bread of God's Word. I sip tea from my favourite mug, warm under a blanket, and murmur the words aloud. My young audience comes and goes, sitting near me to listen for a while, then running off to play, soon back again to hear more.
It's not the quiet time I once knew, but I'm learning to work with this new reality.
"'The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.' Baby, I see you crawling towards the stairs..."
*excited baby squeal*
"'As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him. For who is God besides the LORD? And who is the Rock except our God? It is God who-'"
"Help, I'm stuck! Mommy, let me out, I'm stuck!"
"'This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God. After this, Jesus and his disciples-' No, sweetheart, the baby can't have one of your candies."
"But I wanted to share with him!"
Such is life, my life, and I praise God for it - for these two adorable little "interruptions", for the guiding light of His Word, and for His peace that passes all understanding.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)
Sunday, 27 June 2010
That which I do not want to do
"We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!
So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin."
Romans 7:14-25
Why do I do that which I do not want to do?
I tell myself I will never...and then I do.
I will never freeze out my husband instead of calmly discussing the issue at hand...and then I do.
I will never lash out verbally at my child, cutting him down in anger...and then I do.
I will never get upset over unimportant things, like unmatched clothes or bathwater on the floor...and then I do.
What a wretched woman I am!
I begin to understand what it means for the "sins of the fathers" to be visited on the children through the generations. For how could it be any different? How can we pass on that which we do not know? It takes so much work, overcoming those responses that have become so ingrained over the years, those automatic first responses, so much a part of us that to change them requires that we change our very core. And I try - oh, I try - but then out of my mouth, echoes from the past, full of hurt and anger and how could I say such a thing?
The baby cries. I open the door to go to him and he reaches for me with everything, every part of his body straining, as only a baby can, to the source of his comfort and nourishment. I lay beside and he rolls into me, snuggles against me, rooting for food and reassurance. As I nurse and cuddle him peacefully back to sleep, I wonder, when did I last reach with such full-bodied purpose to the one true source of comfort and sustanance? Yearning, straining, reaching, as an infant for its mother, wanting nothing more and nothing less than the safety and provision of the Father? Provider, Sustainer, Giver of Life!
I think back, and I remember. Those darkest years that I rarely think of and speak of even less. That lowest moment, preparing to take away the precious life that I had been granted, longing to find blissful relief in death. In desperation, straining towards Him with everything, and then feeling more clearly than ever before or ever since His arms, His presence, His love. I sob in relief. He is there, He loves me, I am safe.
But now, with the road relatively smooth, I start to forget. I begin to believe, instead, that I can provide. That I can sustain. That I can do it on my own.
Such foolishness.
I need Him every bit as much now as I did on that dark night. Only with Him can I finally do away with all the parts of me that I am so ashamed of. Only with Him can I replace them with a new legacy, one of peace and love and encouragement. Only with Him can I truly die to self, not taking my life but freely giving it to Him, the One Who can remake me in the image of the Son. I praise Him daily that He who has begun a good work in me will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. One day, it will be completed, I will be complete...but until then, I must every day, this day, put aside my sinful nature and put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator.
Deliberate. Intentional. Responsive, not reactive. This must be the daily rhythm of my life, always filtered through the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
And that same Spirit will bring forth fruit in my life.
Love.
Joy.
Peace.
Patience.
Kindness.
Goodness.
Faithfulness.
Gentleness.
Self-control.
A legacy worth passing on. Fruit to bring about more fruit, its seeds being passed down through the years. No more I will never...but instead, I will. I will, because it is what I know. I will, because it is good and right. I will, because it is what I lived.
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