A Sunny Irish Day

Is it a stretch to combine trebuchets and St. Patrick's Day? I hope not because that's what we did today.

In my co-op class we have been talking about the history of weapons and warfare. So far we've learned about the Tang dynasty and the invention of gunpowder, the Mongol invasion, Vikings, the Mayans and Aztecs, the spread of Islam and Werner von Braun's V-2 rockets. Diverse, I know. Anything to keep me from having to study guns. Blah. Boring.

This week we are studying Medieval Britain and Ireland. (thus, the trebuchet) I found the pattern here. It was not hard or expensive. Chris precut all the wood and he and I assembled one yesterday just to make sure we knew what to do. This morning he helped the kids and it only took about an hour.

Missy's geography class was on Ireland and St. Patrick's Day since that is day after tomorrow. They had a handout this week about it and today we had an Irish feast. Roasted chicken and carrots with Roasties. Roasties are roasted potatoes.

Recipe:

Peel and quarter several potatoes.

Boil for 5 minutes with a little salt.

Drain and let dry out for an hour or so.

Put them back in the cook pot with the lid and shake!

Put some duck fat (or olive oil) in the roasting pan and let preheat 5 minutes.

Add the potatoes. Top with salt, pepper and herbs (rosemary from the garden).

Cook 22 minutes on 350.

Take them out, flip them over, add a little more oil and herbs, put them back in.

Cook another 22 minutes.

DELICIOUS!!!

After we ate, we skyped with Laura, AJ and Bella Morgan for over an hour. The kids asked lots of questions. What are the toilets like? What do you eat for breakfast? Do they have beef jerky in Ireland? What kind of sports do you play? How is St Patrick's Day celebrated? Do you have stores like WalMart? etc. etc. etc.

AJ told us about hurling and showed us his hurler and slither. Super cool! Bella told us how to ask to use the bathroom in Irish. She showed us what their cereal boxes look like. We got a grand tour of the house. Steve and Eli popped into frame long enough to make us laugh. And Laura and I kept on talking while Kim was teaching Science.

The kids had a great day learning today. I love watching them laugh and experiment. I love when they get excited about learning. It puts all the days when school is an exercise in discipline into perspective.

Now, the sun is shining and Titan and I are swinging on the porch swing. The boys are in the woods looking for the perfect stick to use as the firing mechanism for their seige machine. The girls are running around in the yard doing who knows what. Kim is asleep on the sofa. It's been a really lovely day. I am very thankful!

A Sword Will Pierce Your Soul

I shall preface this post with a comment on perception. Perception is a funny thing. The way a person perceives information is dependant on their experience or life state, at the time. So two people can listen to the same set of instructions or the same sermon and perceive two different things. Today's sermon spoke LOADS to me. It might have spoken to other people as well, but what they gleaned from it would be different from myself. Confused? I am. Whatev... on with the point of this post.


Our home church is planting a sister church in the town where we live. My husband is the elder for this plant. We have come to the stage in the process where it is time for us to make the transition from our home church to our new church. Why am I telling you this? Background is needed and I'll try to keep it brief.

My parents were vaguely unhappy most of my childhood. Okay. More than vaguely, if you count the suicide attempts. So we bounced from church to church. I don't blame them for this, seeing as how they were trying the best the could. By the time I was 17, I was ready to grow some roots. I was tired of the gossip and the chaos of the churches we had been to, and the Lord led me to a PCA church. (This in no way implies that only PCA churches are valid. This is just my experience.) I was comforted by the church government. It made me feel safe to know that the preacher couldn't run the church like a dictatorial regime and the "leadership" couldn't run him off if they didn't like the way he parted his hair. There was structure and safety in having a session of elders.

I joined Community when I was 17. I was in the youth group. I graduated and moved into the singles group. I met my husband there. I was discipled. I had my babies. I was shown how to mother. I was introduced to grace. I was taught. I was trained to lead. I grew up. I participated in Women's Ministry. I was comforted when my parents divorced. I saw what unity looked like when there was no gossip about it. I was supported through tragedies.

When Chris mentioned church planting, my answer was a simple but emphatic, "No." I could not even contemplate leaving my volitional family. But God worked in my heart and gave me a desire to move into my own community and share the gospel.

Now, it is time to make the move. It is time to leave my safe, wonderful, happy, comfortable, precious nest. It is time to say a goodbye to that family and give my heart to another family. I will, of course, never truly leave Community. They are my history. They are my heart.

Today was our last regular Sunday there. My children's hearts are broken.

(now to the perception part. Here is my take on Burt's sermon)

This morning, Burt preached out of John 19, when Mary was standing at the foot of the cross, watching her son be brutally murdered. Jesus told her to take John as her son and John to take Mary as his mother. Burt took us back to Luke 2, when Simeon blessed Jesus in the temple and told Mary that "a sword will pierce through you own soul also".

Right now it feels as though my soul is being pierced through.

Burt went on to point out that when Mary was in that agonizing place, Jesus saw her and provided a comfort for her. He saw her pain and met her in that place. When I am in grief and sorrow, Jesus sees me. He sees me from heaven and gives me himself. He doesn't ignore it. He comforts me.

When I took communion today, I could hear the Spirit reminding me, "Christ's body broken for you. He sees you. He knows." I couldn't stop crying. It was beautiful.

The rest of the sermon pointed out Christ's reconciliation with John who had abandoned him in the garden and the creation of a new family. John took care of Mary. She came to live with him.

God is moving us away from our true family, but he will not abandon us. He will not turn us out into the desert. He is providing another family for us. It will take a while for the relationships to be built and it may never be the same as Community, but there is no doubt that God is sending us.

I ask you to pray for my teenagers. This move is hardest on them, I think. Pray for Chris and I as we parent them through this. I think my biggest fear is that they will hate God and hate Chris and I for doing this to them. I long for them to see God's goodness in this. Pray for us as we actively and deliberately seek out relationships in Springville. Pray for Maggie and I as we trust God with our fears of being forgotten by the ones we love most.

Who knew that God would lead us into church planting? Yowza. Not me. I think moving to Peru would have been easier in some ways.

Someone else listening to this sermon may have perceived something completely different, but that's where I was today and I don't think I'll ever forget it. God spoke straight into my heart. Thank you, Burt for bringing it today. Have you been reading my mail???

Let's Rediscover over a Cuppa...

I was resistant to joining Facebook for a long time. I loved blogging and I adored my Blog Community. I think I had almost 25 or 30 blog links on my page. Most of these were people I knew but there were some of people who were either inspiring or just plain fascinating. I would log on every night after the kids went to bed and check in on my people.

My friend, Jawan, introduced me to the blogosphere. She started one and I followed her religiously. Once I started my own, it seemed like more and more people jumped in with me. My sister kept hers light-hearted. My pastor and brother-of-my-heart, G, varied. Sometimes his were frenetically hilarious; other times, heart-wrenchingly honest and moving. Another blog was from a guy named Nate who lived up north somewhere. His posts were fascinating as he navigated his new married life and teaching jr high.

And then Facebook came along. I didn't want to leave my sweet little nest. I was talked into it. There were some things I loved about it. I found friends from ages ago and we could chat like we were once again sitting in Economics class passing notes. What's not to love about that? I found my Algebra teacher and my high school mentor. I found kids (now adults) that I used to babysit. I found my best friend from third grade. This was awesome!

But somewhere along the way, something changed. All the depth was sucked out of the connections. Blogging allowed me to make a statement or a claim and then spend 500 words explaining it. On FB I became very cautious of my status updates, because I just didn't know who might be reading it. I didn't want my family to misunderstand a snarky comment or my high school friends to misinterpret me and think I was still the same self-righteous prig I used to be.

Facebook makes me rise back to the surface of myself and be pleasant. Admit it. You don't put deep feelings on a status. You don't want to post, "Cried myself to sleep last night. I don't think I want to be a mother any more." What?!?! DHR will be knocking any minute. Or how about posting, "My sin overwhelms me. I long for heaven." My aunt would have the suicide hotline make a house call.

But blogging... ahhh, that quiet little bubble where only people who WANT to know me come. That still place where I can think through my thoughts and send the results out into the void, not knowing who, if anyone, will read it.

I used to blog two or three times a week. I haven't blogged with any substance in almost a year. Maybe more. I don't like that. I like thinking and typing. I miss sending things out into the great unknown and waving as it goes. I like to be poetic sometimes. And I really like you... whoever you may be, who is reading this right now. I'm waving at you. Wave back with a review if you want. You don't have to; it's not required.

Facebook will continue to be in my life. I have the app after all. But my blog will be my dear, old friend that I sit down with and drink a cuppa and tell all my problems, joys and fears... You're invited too. Come on in. Do you like cream and sugar with your coffee?

Redeeming the House and my Heart

So here I am, blogging again. Can I tell you the super duper retarded reason that I don't blog as much? It's because I have this thing... this thing where I HATE logging out of my email and then back in. So much that I just don't do it and therefore... don't blog. Is that dumb or what? But wait. Here's an idea. Since I check my email on my phone primarily, why not just stay logged into my blog on my laptop? I'm a little slow.


Today, I cleaned out my big hall closet. A lot. Like to the tune of purging three garbage bags out of it. I am so tired of my house being full of s*#t, pardon my cartoon french. I have lost count of how much stuff I've given away. It's so much that my friends are seriously worried that we're moving overseas. My hall closet now has space for more coats and room on the shelf. The bigger hall closet (deemed the "Tornado Closet" because of its location at the center of the house) has floor space and the topmost shelf is almost empty. Maggie's closet, where I had stuff stored, is now empty of my stuff. Next project: the Attic! Duh duh duh *cue scary music* I am so done. It's amazing how much stuff we've accumulated.

In the process, I homeschooled. Ty and I went through his entire Algebra book to date and went over the processes that he was unsure of. Brody and I did a math lesson and then I gave him some books on tape to keep him busy and happy. A while later, I heard his growl of frustration and made my way to where he was nested, only to find out "the stupid tape is broken!"... except it was at the end of the tape and needed to either be flipped over or rewound. For a child raised with his own iPod, this was a major inconvenience. He made himself a sandwich while it rewound.

Maggie and I had a great, ongoing conversation about life today. She's ridiculously funny. So witty. She got a new full sized bed yesterday and she tried not to move from it today. She ate, did school, helped me sort boxes, all from the squishy firmness of her "big girl" bed.

Chris and I discussed the cluster that was Maggie's check up yesterday. Her pediatrician is losing his mind. He interrupted, assumed, and lectured to the point that I was almost rude to him. He stopped. Chris recommended a carefully worded email.

I did all these things almost simultaneously today. My house isn't super clean but it is tidy. The kids did their school. The closets got cleaned. I got several long, whispery hugs from Chris that I am completely addicted to. And I found this... a page of homework from the very first time I went through Discipling by Grace circa 1999:

"While trying to do this assignment - Chris wants help going through his suits to give some away, Maggie wants to have a dialogue on why we should go to McDonald's, and Ty lets me know that he has poop in his pants. I get VERY angry every time I hear "Mommy! Mommy!" I'M TRYING TO WORK!"

And

"I woke up - sick, fatigued. Then I look around and now I'm overwhelmed. The floors need vacuuming, there are dishes in the sink, the table is full of the junk I emptied out of the van, my desk is overrun with papers, there are toys everywhere, the bathroom is dirty, etc, etc, etc. I end up either doing nothing and feeling disgusted with myself OR I push myself to clean and am mean to the kids and get even sicker."

I was dumbstruck at the difference in myself in the last twelve years. I wish I could go back in time and get myself to understand that the children and Chris WERE my job. Who gives a flying rat's ass about the dishes or the vacuuming? Those are just things that needed doing. My family was my job. I remember being so task oriented that Maggie and Ty were just interruptions.

In my defense, that's how you do every other job on the face of the earth. You have a job description. You have a list of tasks that need to be done and you do them. But being a mother is not a list of tasks or a job; it is a living, breathing, organic experience. It's not like pooping. It's like breathing. You don't put it off or try to hurry it along. You just breathe.

And also in my defense, I was still relatively new (just a few years) to the whole experience of washing dishes and clothes and cooking... I still had to think about them. As time has gone on and I've gotten so accustomed to doing those things, I don't have to give them a second thought. Remember when you learned to tie your shoes? For years after, you had to force your fingers into the right position, maybe even repeat under your breath the steps, "X them over, loop, over, under, loop, through, pull." When's the last time you had to think about tying your shoes? Huh? You can't even remember. You can talk on the phone, do whatever, and tie your shoes. That's what housework is like to me now. I do it without ever giving it conscious thought. But back then, back when my kids were little, I still had to think about it. And add to that the constant demand of their persistent voices and no wonder I got so frustrated!

The older I've gotten, the more relaxed I've gotten. There's a reason for that: I am not defined by the state of my house or how nice my kids are to me. My kids are sinners just like me. They don't mean to be unkind to me. They don't try to hurt my feelings. They are just like me. I don't try to be selfish or say mean things to people. But I get caught up in my own little world and before I know it, I've hurt someone. That's what they did to me. Poor things. They had no idea why I was so angry with them all the time.

I mentioned this to them tonight and asked them if they remembered it. Nope. Not even a little. They have no recollection of a messy house or a screaming mother. They remembered the walks we took in the woods and the trips to my mother's house. And today, my two oldest, at different times without knowledge of the other, came to me, hugged me and told me thank you for all the ways I helped them today.

I wish I could tell my younger self to hang in there. One day, they get older and become aware of you as a person. One day, all that housework becomes second nature. One day, they clean up after themselves. One day, they look down upon you and say "Thank you."

God's grace is sufficient. For my sin, for my children's memories, and for my heart. He is making even this right. Redemption is a beautiful thing.

Paris: Part Two

I am so mad about the layout! I've put extra spaces between the paragraphs and blogger is not showing them. It's all squashed together. Grrrr... Sorry!

The long awaited Part Deux... I made use of the journal!

I slept well. The bed was comfortable and the pillow not too hard. It was lovely and dark in the room when I woke up to find Ginger peeking out the windows. Apparently, she hadn't slept much because there was no clock in the room. I turned my phone on and when we saw that it was a few minutes after 8:00 we got up. I could tell Ginger was pretty tired.

We took turns showering in our gorgeous, enormous shower. It was so cool. It had a shower-head the size of a dinner plate and a glass enclosure. The only weird part was that the "door" to the shower wouldn't close all the way. But the water pressure was hard and I really enjoyed that because Trace and Ginger's shower in England really just spits at you. Anywho, we got ready, said good-bye to our pretty room and checked out.

Outside it was gray and the sky looked like rain. It wasn't drizzling, but every once and a while we could feel the mist. We took a moment to pray about the weather and then we were off.

Our next question was "Now what?" I had studied the maps and had a pretty good idea where things were. We wanted to see the Arc de Triomph and the Louvre. But first... breakfast. The idea of it was intimidating. We didn't speak the language. We walked past a few cafes and tried to read the signs. Finally I looked at Ginger and said, "We're just going to have to do it. We're just going to walk in one of these and try." Ginger looked as intimidated as I felt, but we chose one and walked over to it. The chalk sign held words that we recognized: le jus d'orange, omelette, croissant. Bingo. I led the way and was greeted by a waiter: White shirt, black trousers, black bowtie and apron. And he looked like Robert Deniro.

He said something in French really fast.

Me: "Pardonnez-moi. I'm so sorry. I do not speak French." I looked pitiful, I'm sure.

He threw his hands in the air. " Well zen, what are we going to do?" And then laughed.

I was so relieved! He pointed us to a small table next to the window. I ordered a ham and cheese omelette with orange juice and Ginger got the croissants with jam and coffee. While we ate we watched this old Frenchman (long white hair and beard, beret and kerchief tied around his neck) drink his espresso, smoke his pipe and read the paper. I tried to get his picture but missed. He was awesome.

We paid and walked down to Invalides and then took a left, towards the Seine, and walked through a chestnut grove. Ginger got pictures but I didn't. There were lots of people on bicycles. Just like in the movies. The buildings around us were magnificent. Enormous, stone, gilded. And that was just the Air France headquarters...

We crossed Pont Alexandre III (Pont means bridge, fyi). There are statues there that will blow your mind. They've got to be thirty feet tall, at least and golden. We just stood there for several minutes and basked. I found a pic on google. That's the dome we saw out our hotel room window. We were to the right of it.

We were almost over the bridge when about five police vans passed, going the same direction we were, lights and sirens blaring. We watched them pass and wondered.

On the other side of the bridge, we passed the Grande Palace and on the other side of the street, the Petite Palace, both now museums. They were huge! And who should be parked in front of the Petite Palace but the police vans. The odd thing was that no one was in a hurry. All the police were leisurely standing around, smoking and putting on their bullet proof vests. It was so odd. We never did figure out what they were doing.

The avenue just passed the Palaces was the famous Champs Elysees. (pronounced: shomps ee less-ay) To the right we could see the Place de la Concorde and to the left, way down the road, was the Arc de Triomph. Ginger and I just looked at each other and grinned like idiots.

We walked down the Champs Elysees. Let's just take a moment to let that sink in.... I walked on the Champs Elysees. ...

Every store had at least one guard outside and two doormen. There was a queue outside one place, which we realized was the Abercrombie and Fitch store. You had to go through a wrought iron gate, down an ivy lined path, and around a corner. They only let people in a few at a time. We didn't waste our time standing in line.

There was a movie theater, a Nike store, a Toyota showroom, Louis Vuitton, and lots and lots more. Some of the shops were literally the size of my bedroom. There was lots of traffic. And there was a Haagen Daz. I got a Bonafe Ice Cream. It had bananas and caramel. So good! We sat under the canopy to the right and people-watched. :o)

We walked the rest of the way to the Arc de Triomphe. The structure itself was magnificent. Huge! And surrounding the Arc is a roundabout, or traffic circle, that has 12 roads feeding into it. It looked like complete chaos to me. But it was amazing. We sat on a bench and rested while looking at it. Ginger made the observation that Paris is as beautiful as the pictures make it out to be, but the pictures cannot do it justice. The pictures don't give you the scale of everything. And the scale is magnificent.

As we walked back down the Avenue, contemplating what we wanted to do, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. It would have been enough for Chris and I to come back to Culcheth. It would have been enough for Maggie to come with us. It would have been enough to bring the rest of the kids. It would have been enough to spend all of our time in Culcheth. It would have been enough. But to find myself, with one of my dearest friends, walking through Paris... it was beyond words. And it was only a few minutes after noon...

Paris: Part One

Ok. Some of you are annoyed with me, I know. But when Ginger and I got home, I found out that they DO NOT have unlimited internet! So I quit using it; I didn't want them to run out. So here is my very best recollection of the rest of the trip...

Wednesday morning, Ginger and I got up and tried to get everything just right so the men would have an easier time while we were gone. We cooked potato soup for Wednesday night and made taco meat for them for Thursday. Then we walked into the village for Ginger to get her haircut. (And yes, I gave her the money that everyone donated for this very reason... she got a style too!) The haircut took much longer than expected and we still had to go to the grocery for lunch stuff for the kids. At 2:00 we were still at Sainsbury's and we had to leave for the airport by 3:00!

We dashed back to the house and packed. No, we had not already packed. I know. I know. Dumb. We spent so much time taking care of everyone else, we didn't take care of ourselves. But isn't that how we women work? ... Yes, it is.

Sue came and picked us up. I told her to bring her passport but she disobeyed. She drove us to Liverpool and dropped us at the John Lennon Airport. The thing about Sue is, we can talk about really personal, important stuff and then turn around and crack each other up. She would totally fit in on a Friday night.

Ginger and I flew Easy Jet, the illegitimate step-brother of more distinguished airlines. You get the gate furthest away from civilization and no assigned seating. And no leg room.... and no elbow room... and only one carry-on (this includes purses). But we didn't care. We were going to PARIS!!! Our flight attendant, a man, looked remarkably like a very effeminate David Russell. Creepy. The girl next to me, beside the window, had a cold I thought. It wasn't until we were almost there that I realized she was crying.

Now I know, I had been told, that the English are private and reserved, yadda yadda yadda. But I could not let this poor girl sit there and cry! I made a funny comment about Paris and broke the ice. Come to find out, she goes to university in Paris and was going back after a short visit at home with her family. She was homesick. We talked for a bit and by the time we disembarked, she was laughing. It was cool.

The Charles DeGaulle airport is dark and old and slightly dirty. Not at all what I expected. And since we flew Easy Jet, we were in the back forty and had to walk the entire length of the airport to get to the train station. No problem. Our feet were still fresh. We went down the escalator and were confronted with machines. Many ticket dispensing machines and no idea what to do.

We walked over to what we hoped was an information desk. This was our first time to say, "Bonjour. I don't speak French. I am so sorry." The young man smiled at us and said what we soon found out was the standard, "It's okay. I speak a little English." He pointed us in the right direction and we found the line for the real live person who sold tickets. Soon we were on our way. I had studied the Metro map extensively and knew our stops. It still took about an hour to get from the airport to our stop.

When we walked up the stairs and into the heart of Paris, we held hands and grinned at each other. It was lit up and living up to its nickname, "The City of Lights." Wow. There are no words to describe the feeling. And it was the first of many, many times we got that feeling. We found our hotel, a discreet little place next to the Musee de l'Armee. It was called the Hotel de l'Empereur. It was awesome! Our room had a little balcony that faced the golden dome of the Museum. We called the guys and let them know we made it, ditched our stuff and headed out in search of food and the Eiffel Tower.

It was late and the cafes were crowded and about to close. We also didn't have the courage to walk into a place and try to order. Instead we found a tiny, tiny little Parisian version of a quick mart. We bought cheese, grapes, a plum, an apple, some bread and a bag of chips for me, and some drinks. Then we were off again.

You would think that you would see the Eiffel Tower first thing, but the buildings are so tall and close together that you can't. I had studied the map and, having a pretty good sense of direction, headed the right way. And then it happened. One minute we were looking at beautiful buildings and then we could see the top of the tower.

We ran forward a few steps and there it was! All lit up and sparkling with lights. We literally jumped up and down and squealed! I was looking at the Eiffel Tower! Surreal. We took some pictures and then walked over to it.

The pictures I had seen captured the beauty, but there's just no way to capture the scale. It's just so big! One of the bases of the leg is the size of my house! And up close, the steel framework almost looks like lace. My words are inadequate.

We walked under it and sat at a bench while we ate our fruit and cheese. Let me restate: Ginger and I sat under the  Eiffel Tower and ate cheese and fruit. From Paris. And the grapes... the grapes tasted like honeysuckle. The best thing I have ever eaten. If someone asks me what my favorite food is, it will forever be Grapes From Paris. Seriously.

We sat for a while. We gawked. We giggled. We tried to wrap our minds around it. And then, since it was midnight, we walked back to our hotel and fell into bed.

End of Day One in Paris....

Tuesday, England Day 3

I wrote this partly on the day of and partly the next day and never posted it...

We woke up this morning, ate breakfast, and got ready for Ladies Bible Study. Ginger and I walked down to AnneMarie's, not far. AnneMarie's home is lovely. Very homey. In England they say very "homely". Different meaning, I know.

In Bible study, we talked about the ongoing work of the Spirit in sanctification. We studied in Galatians. It was me, Ginger, Ruth, AnneMarie, Sue, Sarah and Bea. I love these ladies. They're so awesome. Very honest and longing for more of the Lord. It was beautiful to be able to talk about the struggles we feel everyday. The things that cause us pain, doubt and fear are the exact spots where we apply the gospel. That is where we most see our need for someone to save us.

After lunch, we walked down to Linear Park. I was surprised by how... linear it was. :o) It's a wooded area with hiking that lays on the site of an old railway line. It was very muddy but the kids had a great time. Cully cried when it was time to leave.

While Ginger and I were at Linear Park with most of the kids, Chris, Trace and Ty played tennis with Jevon. They had a great time together. Jevon's a hoot.

At six Shaun Kavanagh came to pick us up for "tea". To us Southerners, that means supper. Our family is so big, it took two cars to transport us. Trace took part and Shaun took part. When we walked in the house smelled soooo good. I made myself at home and walked on back to the kitchen. Gracious. Sue had cooked us a feast. We had chili (my fave), mashed potatoes, rice, peas and corn, chicken pot pie, tortilla chips and bonaffe pie for dessert! So good. Sue said she was trying to bribe me into being her friend. It worked.

After tea, we loaded up again and went to the Trafford Centre. The teenagers (Maggie, Ty, Jevon, Lizzie and Josh) went their way; we went ours. Sue bought the youngers smoothies. Then we walked to the Grand Staircase. At the top we spied the teens. Sue and I just looked at each other and went into ridiculous spy mode. We ran to the nearest pillar and peeked around at them. As they walked, we sprinted from pillar to pillar. It was hilarious. It took the teenagers a few minutes to notice us and be completely mortified. Sue and I were laughing so hard and our husbands were following us around, lost in their own conversation. I'm sure we were a sight! We ended up at a coffee shop and talked and talked and talked until the kids found us again. Paul and AnneMarie showed up to pick Jevon up and we talked some more.

We went back to the Kavs house and talked some more. Such an edifying night. Sue and I sat in the car and talked for an hour! You know the kind of talking I mean? When you can't even stop to move inside the house. It's kind of magical, I think. You don't want to do anything to mess it up. We didn't get back to the Donahoos until 1am. Awesome!

It was such a great day! We got to spend all day with our church family. Exactly why we came!

England Day 2

Day 2:

I slept not so well last night. Thus I slept late this morning. I don't like the feeling of oversleeping, at all. Chris woke me up and I had to rush to get ready so we could catch the bus. We ended up having to wait for it anyways...

We took the kids to Trafford Centre today. I needed to get a new Sim card for my cellphone, so we would have a way of communicating. I got one for 10 pounds. Not bad. I can add to it if I need to. When I went to the TMobile store (pronounced T-MoBILE - long I), the tech guy took one look at my phone and asked me in an awed voice, "Is that the new 4G from America?" "Um, yes." To which he then called the girl who worked there over to show her the "new 4G from America." Again, awed voice. My eyes were a little big at this point. When he asked permission to hold it, I started to feel the first twinges of guilt for all the countless games of Spider Solitaire played on it. I nodded and he took it over to the next guy to show it off. I feel pretty certain that guy's look was slightly derisive. I felt the sudden urge to defend myself. "I have every right to have that phone. Every right." Anywho, they got me all fixed up with unlimited web and all that jazz and I left feeling sorta like a rock star.

We shopped and shopped and shopped. I watched the kids watch the people. We ate in the massive food court and the kids watched the jumbotron. I took a picture of the Egyptian themed Pizza Hut to prove its existence to the Friday Night girls. I was grilled by the pharmacist at Boots for wanting to buy Gracie some Tums. I truly thought he was not going to allow it, but he finally did. Thank goodness.

We rode a double decker bus to the mall. Gracie got some nauseating video footage of it. Let me know if you want to see it. I even took Ty's and Gracie's picture with the super nice driver. The kids like being the foreigners, I think. They like being the novelty.

Then tonight, we got to eat Indian food with Roy and Ruth. We gave up all ordering rights to Roy who chose wisely for us. He ordered the Josh Groban... no wait... the Rogan Josh for me. SOOOO yummy. Ty got lamb something. So did Chris. Brody and Grace got the Chicken ghura. Maggie got "the soup thingie and the wrap thingie," as Roy so eloquently put it. He cracks me up. After stuffing ourselves to an uncomfortable degree we walked back to Trace and Ginger's for dessert and coffee. The Kunar's (Pastor of Grace Fellowship and his wife) stayed for quite a while and the discussion was so edifying. They understand the intricate joys and heartbreak of church planting and have a lot of wisdom. God was very good to let us spend time with them.

We rounded out the evening by watching the latest episode of An Idiot Abroad. There are no words. So. Funny. At one point, Ginger and I thought we were going to throw up. Trace was in the floor, literally. And Chris was having an asthma attack. Ricky Gervais and this other guy, Steve somebody, found this really negative, slightly slow, clueless fella and sent him around the world doing different things. Like go to Egypt and see the pyramids. He was totally unimpressed. Tonight, he went down Route 66 in America. I cannot explain. You have to see it for yourselves. It was great to laugh that hard.

Now, I am in my room, which is usually Cullen's room, typing and listening to Chris snore. All the boys are in Trace's office and the girls are in Ansley's room.

Having a lovely time. Wish you were here.

England Day 1

Day 1:

After sleeping 13 hours, we awoke at 8:30. Their time change was last night, so we got an extra hour of sleep. Oh yeah. The kids slept an hour longer than we did...

We got dressed and walked to church, about 1/4 mile from here. The kids thought it was cool that we can walk everywhere. As we walked past the front of the school where the church meets, I heard a frantic knocking and looked up. Shirley was waving to me from the upper window and smiling her head off. It was awesome. When we walked in, we were immediately hugged by Jevon, Neil, Shirley, Roy and Sean. Big hugs! Then Paul and Ruth found us and gave us hugs as well.

Bruce preached this morning out of Hebrews. When he finished Maggie and Ty both turned to me and mouthed "Wow." It was challenging and I'll try to share my notes later. Their music is slightly different and they were new to us. But we picked them up and worshipped along with our brothers and sisters. I did notice a couple of cultural references in the music. One was about God being over every throne ever known. It struck me that to Americans that would be a historical reference... to the English, this is a modern statement of reality. It was interesting to me.

After church, we hung out for a bit and had coffee and tea. I got to talk with Jevon and Sue's daughter, Lizzie, for a while. Then we went to The Cherry Tree for lunch for a traditional Sunday Roast. Wowza. So good! (I know. I was surprised too!) I had sliced roast beef, parsnips, roasted potatoes, boiled new potatoes, carrots, mushy peas and Yorkshire Pudding. Turns out I've had Yorkshire pudding before... I didn't know it though. It looks like hollow dinner rolls. And tastes like soggy bread. Not impressive. But everything else was wonderful.

After lunch, we walked down the road to Bruce and Bea's for coffee. Bruce is almost seven feet tall and one of the most genuinely nice and funny people I've ever met. He spent months saving up to buy a fancy coffee maker. By the time he had the money saved up, Bea said she was desperate for him to just buy it already. lol. Reminded me of Chris when he shoe shops. Funny. Anyways, we spent a few hours  just sitting and talking and laughing. They asked us a lot of probing questions that gave us a lot to think about.

When we left there, Trace and Chris walked over to Neil and Shirley's to retrieve Gracie who had gone to spend the afternoon with their oldest daughter, Emily. Ginger and I dropped by Sainsbury's for canned tomatoes, corn and chili powder (Beef Skillet Fiesta - Jevon loved it!). Then met the guys at the house.

Jevon came over and we had a Halloween party since the kids can't Trick or Treat here. The kids dressed up (nerd, princess, hippie, 2 rock star, gangster). We gave them (and Jevon) each a plastic bag. Then Trace, Ginger, Chris and I went upstairs and each chose a bedroom. We shut the doors and the kids came and knocked. When they said Trick or Treat, we gave them American candy that we'd brought over. It was really, really silly and fun. Then we came down and let them dig in. :o)

Now, the kids are in bed asleep and we are watching the British television show, An Idiot Abroad. Ricky Jervais. 'Nuff said... So ridiculous.

Good night America. Good night England. Good night Moon...

Expressions of Love

My heart is very full tonight. It's not that I've had a terrific, fun-filled day. I've been busy and checking things off my to do list. But I have felt the love of my Father today...

1. in Coldplay's new album that came out today.

2. in getting to know some really cool kids at CORE and enjoying their company. Geeks are awesome.

3. in my kids' faces and laughter.

4. through Amber, who took my kids to the movies to see Real Steel so I could get all my errands run.

5. through Missy and Kim (sis), who rode with me and gave me the gift of conversation and laughter.

6. through the girl who helped me pick out and put on my phone case at the TMobile store. She kept me laughing and served me well.

7. through Michelle Davis who "shopped" with me at Target while we talked on the phone.

8. through Poe on the Porch at KimHill's.

9. through Cobi who is one of the most interesting people that I know and makes me more interesting than I already am. ;o)

10. through watching the sweet babies play in the yard at Kim's.

11. through the hot cocoa placed in my hand while I hung out.

12. through seeing my youngest be brought to tears because a song had moved him so much.

13. Did I mention Coldplay has a new album...

14. through Tiffany making sure she could hug me and give me a proper good-bye before I left for England.

15. through coming home and seeing all our bags packed in the living room.

16. through my brother-in-law and Dad reassuring me that the squealing of my van was not "critical" and they would fix it.

17. through sitting in the van with Brody and listening to a song, full blast, twice before we came in the house.

18. through my neighbor Dave who, I know, would protect my family with his life and puts up with my dog and kids like it's no big deal.

19. through the volitional family that put their arms around me and mine and LOVES us.

20. through looking at my passport and knowing how HE has provided a way and a ministry for my family.

21. through knowing that in 85 hours I can hug my friend Ginger breathless and live her life with her for a while.

22. through the anticipation of building up already formed friendships in England and making more.

23. through knowing Christ and Him crucified.

I have been busy. I have been rushed. I have been relaxed. I have been lots of things today. Most of all, I have been loved. And I am grateful and my heart overflows.

October 19th

I got all of our suitcases out of the attic and the closet. I measured and placed them in two categories: checked and carry-on. We have 5 checked and 3 carry-on. Then we carried them out to the van and they will ALL fit in the trunk. Now to figure out what to put in them...

Ginger just called me. We talked for an hour and a half. Everything from budget to travel plans to menu. I think the details are mostly ironed out. I've talked to my cell carrier and know how to get a new sim card when we get there. I talked to the bank and they know we're travelling. There are still things I have to do, but the list is not too overwhelming.

It's finally sinking in that we're going to England. I've been planning and praying and it's almost here. I've been in touch with Sue and Shirley and we have play dates planned. We'll be eating with Bruce and Bea while there. I know that none of you friends reading this post know who they are but, oh, how I wish you did. And you will one day in heaven. They are such lovely people. I know you would love them too.

I'm going to be teaching while there. God keeps bringing me back to 1 Corinthians 2:2-5. I know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified. And that definitely leads me to a place of fear and great trembling, but I know that I have nothing to offer these wonderful women from another culture. The Holy Spirit, however, has so much to offer them and if he can use me, even a little bit that is a privilege.

So today, we are doubling up on schoolwork, adding things to the To Do list, cleaning, packing and trying not to let myself get overwhelmed.

One of my children, who will remain nameless, has zero coping skills today. Lots of whining, screaming and meltdowns. It's pushing my nerves to the breaking point. I am struggling with the reality of grace for this child. I have too much to do to deal with this issue... oh wait, no I don't. They need me more than my lists need me. Dang. I forgot again.

There is no real point to this post. I have no moral or lesson. Nothing profound or funny. In fact, I'm second guessing why I'm even writing this...

Wondering....

I am wondering what God has planned for me. I'm not down or depressed or even unsettled. It's just... well, I'm having a moment of peace with the fact that I have no idea what God will do. Gone are the days of assuming I know what is best for me and my family. Gone are the days of pleading with God to keep my children close.

I wonder where we will be in ten years. What we will be doing in five. I wonder what my kids will do when they grow up. I wonder if I'm preparing them.

I feel a flutter of excitement in the pit of my belly. I take a deep breath when I think about the times coming that will not be easy. I know God is sufficient. He is real. And his path for us is already laid out. I wonder what it looks like...

How Did I End Up Here?

I am currently sitting in my comfy green chair, watching my four children do their school.

First, how in the world did I end up being the mother of four children?

Second, how did I become this mother who patiently (mostly) schools her kids at home?

I am blown away. Ty and Brody are at the dining room table doing English assignments. Mags and Grace are sitting on the couch, one doing English, the other math. The house is quiet and still. They are content to do their work... at the moment. All I hear is the gentle scratching of their pencils and the tapping of Maggie's laptop.

I never, ever, thought that I would homeschool. I remember thinking that all those homeschoolers were a little bit crazy. And then God ushered me into it. I remember being overwhelmed with the choices in curriculum and teaching styles, thinking that the entire world hinged on my decision. I remember being stressed out and euphoric, by turns. I remember when Maggie and Ty learned to read and realizing that I did that... that was me teaching them.

And here it is... 10 years later. Ten years. Wow. I have two children in high school, for pete's sake. My days are now mostly quiet affairs. We start early with Bible immediately after breakfast. Then spelling, reading, math, science, history, english, electives... We move from one subject to another, no yelling. No screaming. Minimal complaints. How in the world does that happen?

God moves me into places that I never knew or wanted to go. He shows me mercy and grace when I have no idea that I need it. Now, I can't imagine not being with my kids all day, every day. Something that used to overwhelm me, is my new normal. All I can do is enjoy it. Who knows how long it will last? Sure, I would love to teach them until they graduate, but I don't know what my future holds. Only God knows all that.

I watch them as they search for knowledge. I watch them, right now, as they furrow their brows in concentration and lean over their books. I watch them nod to themselves when they finally understand. And I ask God to teach them, hold them, grow them. I ask God to bless the efforts we all put into this. I ask Him to call each of my children into the path He has already established for them. Maybe one day they, too, will ask, "How did I end up here?"

That makes me smile.

Fear and Enjoyment

How do I teach my children to face their fears? How do I help them understand that we should never make a decision based completely on fear?

I guess, maybe, I push them to jump in the deep end, go to the class, attempt the sport, etc until they see one of two things. They either see that a.) it wasn't so bad and there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place or b.) they failed and survived it and even learned from it... failure wasn't the end of the world.

And if they fail, I am there with the gospel to remind them who they actually are... they are loved by their Creator and that is all they really need. And when they succeed, I am there with the gospel too.

But in all of it, I remind them to enjoy it. Enjoy it. Jump in, tackle, pirouette, write, learn... whatever... and enjoy it. Enjoyment glorifies God if we remember Him in the midst of it. He is there in the midst of that fear and He is all that truly matters.

Is that too big to pass on to someone who still depends on me for clean underwear?

A sure sign that I have forgotten the gospel is when I've forgotten how to enjoy God in the simple things.