the quiet....

the chinook is over,
the snow has been falling for a day now and the ground shows no sign of the warmth of just two days ago
everything is white
i have never liked winter, so cold and icy..
but this year am trying to change my own mind, something i am seldom good at doing...

when the chinook blew and the air felt like spring i was elated
but in my heart i knew that no matter how much it felt like spring...

it was not spring
it was a trick
cold was coming again
winter was not retreating yet

and so as my head raged with the chinook migraine and tried to make me hide in a dark room, i ventured out
i would not miss this short warm interlude
and everyday that i went out in a tshirt and jeans, and a pointy hat
i knew winter had lost....    that day
as i sat on the deck, in a chair that i refused to put away in the fall,
and drank a cup of hot tea...
i laughed

it may not be spring, but it reminds me that spring is coming
and every warm day is one less day for winter to rage

and then the snow began to fall...
and fall...
and this morning when i opened the door to let the dogs out ~ it was all back
all the snow that had been claimed by the chinook had been replaced
by a new fresh white fluffy layer
and i noticed something

the quiet

it is like somehow the snow has hushed the earth,
at least this tiny part of it...
and i sighed a sigh of relief

i could no longer see the huge hole the dogs had dug ~in the sand box at least
i could no longer see the dirt that had been showing through

everything was white, and clean, and quiet
and i found something about winter that i like
i watched my daughter throwing the new snow in the air and hollering "SNOW"
with a look of pure joy...
and i found something about winter that i like
i watched my gypsy running through the snow like a crazy thing throwing herself face first into it and rolling around like a dragon in grass...
and i found something about winter that i like
i sat at the table and drank tea with a little rosy cheeked girl as she warmed up...
and i found something about winter that i like

i love spring
all the potential for a beautiful garden...
all the anticipation of afternoons in the green grass with my littleones...
no more winter coats and ski pants and boots and mittens...
barefeet running...
sandy knees as they dig and build and create....

but i have found some reasons not to rush it,
spring will come
but right now

i have found somethings about winter that i like...

a memory lost...

i am trying not to pay attention to the dates on the calender
i am trying to just live today for today and not focus on that day

i am trying to remember the blessings of her life,
not the sadness of goodbye

i am trying to remember everything
every loving thing she said to me
every bit of advice, that i may or may not have liked at the time
every funny story
every smile
every hug
every thoughtful gift brought from all over the world and given with love

but i find myself haunted by the one that is forgotten...

on our last visit she brought us gifts for Christmas
we had tea and pie and talked of having a Christmas together soon...

the visit was short as they were on their way to somewhere else and really only had time to drop the gifts for us....

a gift for me
a wooden tree, which i love, of course, she knows how much i love trees, we talked about that very thing over tea and she smiled, when i opened the tree on Christmas day i laughed because i suddenly understood her smile, the smile of knowing she had gotten me the perfect gift

a gift for my husband
socks, which we also laughed over, knowing that while she didn't know him as she knew me, she didn't want him to have empty hands when i opened my tree

a gift for leeland
a puzzle book with stories from the bible, we have done the puzzles so many times that they are a bit tattered, i was going to put it away to save it, but it was given to be played with, and i respect that, so it sits on the shelf in easy reach of little fingers...

a gift for avienda...
and my heart breaks, because somehow in all the excitement of opening gifts, i have forgotten what it was, i can not keep it safe, i can not even enjoy watching her love it, because i don't remember what it is
what if i accidentally get rid of it? what if i already have?
i tried all year to remember what it was...
and i never have...
this Christmas when i pulled the decorations out i found the gift bag,
and i cried
late at night i find myself searching my mind for what the bag held,
and i cry
soon it is early morning and i am still awake and my head hurts
and i know the day will soon begin...
there will be kids to feed and games to play
and they don't know i was crying most of the night
and they don't know how my heart is breaking,
and i need the energy to make it through...

i know this is not the reaction she hoped her gift to my daughter would bring
and that makes me cry too

i know i may never remember what the gift was
and i need to be blessed by the fact that she brought the gift
that she loved me,
and my family
as her own
that is the real gift

and as i try to focus on this small bit of truth
i hope tonight is better
and i still hope i will remember....

freedom comes

yesterday was hard...
the kids were (and still are) over tired as they have been for days
the potty training has not been exactly successful, for the boy or the puppy
a migraine, a sore back
and one disappointment after another
my mind was over full
and i was so very tired
to call yesterday a success would have been a stretch even for my very creative mind

today started so very similar...
i almost gave in to my desire to remain in pjs and skip church
i would like to say my great desire to teach my children the importance of corporate worship led me to make it happen, but the truth is i knew if i could just get them (and me) dressed and out the door....

i could drop them off in children's church and sit quietly for an hour while someone else chased them
sweet bliss... a cup of coffee that i would get to drink while it was still hot...

and as i took my seat, coffee in hand, and sighed a deep sigh of sheer relief...
i realised i had forgotten something...
and i could not stop thinking about it
i rose to sing and it clouded my mind
all the what ifs that come with a thing left undone...

i was in the one place where i could stop for a moment and focus on my savior and i was distracted by the what ifs

and as i struggled to sing, to focus, a thought fluttered just outside my understanding
a truth was waiting for me
a blessing
a glimpse of heavenly wisdom was waiting

for me

and for a moment i understood

                                               .....freedom comes....

when i let go of the what ifs and choose against all earthly wisdom to trust...
trust that i am here in this moment...
with Jesus
trust that i am where i am meant to be...
then, as i rest in that understanding...i am truly free
i could not change what i had left unfinished, that was not in my control anymore
but i could choose to let it go
i could choose to be here, in this moment of worship...

i forgot something...
and i found something better

little flame to the rescue

whoa this boat is tipping overrrrrr

the waves are to highhhhhh......

little flame help!!!
help little flame.....
little flame you have to risk your life to save me.......

ok i will save you...
ok i rescued you

did you push me up so the waves wont go over me?

yes I did!

o thankyou little flame....

o no now i am tipping ovvvveerrrrrr...
o no help me.....

why don't you just hop into the back of mine? just until it isn't so wavy.....

no? ok then i will let mine tip over, don't save me i am swimming ... i am getting help to save you....
i will pull yours along... 

are they napping?
definitely not.

do i care?
not so much

#11  my crazy, busy, messy, wonderful children!

whatsoever...

"...whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
Philippians 4:8

#4  having eternal life

#5  praying with my children

#6  praying with my husband

#7  chasing bubbles through the sprinkler

#8  sunshine making a warm spot on the floor for bare feet to stubborn for slippers

#9  the smell of fresh bread

#10  gypsy

i can't knit

i can't knit, i just can't do it, i have tried so many times...
beautiful wool in hand, two knitting needles, a nice basket.. even a friend to "teach"me
and as i watch other hands turn the wool into a piece of wonderful...
i find i have turned mine into... a snarl
and on my face i wear... a snarl

i finally quit trying, realising my artistic talent lies on other paths...
really i am surprised it took so long for me to give up,
tho i suppose it shouldn't as i am as stubborn as they come
i kept trying because while trying to knit makes me mad instantly

i love knitted things
mittens
sweaters
scarves
and hats

especially hats...
i love hats ...   all hats really...  felted hats....    beanies.. caps...  antique hats with bits of netting...
but most especially knitted hats ~ with pointy tops
they have always been my favorite
and always hard to find
in fact every pointy hat i have ever had has been made for me by someone dear to my heart

a friend made a pointy hat for my daughter when she was a baby, it was pink and white and blue and had a long point that stood straight up with a pompom on the very tippy top, i loved it, it was whimsical and special and made with love and i still have it in her baby box for her to keep for always.

and another friend crocheted me a pointed cap a few years ago, it is blue and burgundy and tan colored and had only a little point on top (which was perfect for me at the time, when i was not quite ready to make my elfness completely known to the world yet, but wanted to share a glimpse)

today i was blessed with the very most perfect hat for me at this stage of my journey.....
now that i have really come out of the elf closet, tattooing whimsy on my arm and throwing myself into my faerie making, i have discovered that pointy ears and wings aside, nothing says whimsy like a pointed hat!
and this one is all the very most me colors, a earthy feeling wonderfully knitted wool pointy hat, and it came with the very best accompaniment, a matching hat for my pixie bird!

and when we put them on and my son wanted one too... i discovered that my smaller pointed hat is so very perfect for my little goblin man!

so today i want to join my friends in making "the list"

#1  pointy hats and friends who make them...

#2 the kids who wear them...

#3 being comfortable enough with my inner elfness to be able to share it...

little mister big man

tomorrow my baby boy turns three years old.  i say it as a statement but the truth is it is more of a cry than a statement of fact.  he is my last baby and certainly spoiled right to the core.

he has his mommy wrapped around his finger and if that is not enough, he really likes to wriggle that chubby little finger and watch mommy dance.

he figured out way to early which super sad, broken hearted look worked in almost all cases, and has perfected it, so much so that he can do it on command at dinner to entertain company.

you would think that after seeing him do it for a laughing clapping crowd it would no longer work on mommy, but it does.

it mostly works because it is so very adorable that i want to see it again, also tho i know if it doesn't work he will move on to something else...   like super yucky mad face, which he has also perfected and can put on at the dinner table for the same laughing and clapping effect.

you see my little man is a little ham and loves the attention... which he gets almost all the time...

i was just thinking a few days ago that he really is pampered and gets most of what he wants, and i was worrying that maybe he will be a terror when i finally release him into the world....

and then he taught me something that i hope i never forget...

we were sitting at the table and his big sister was dawdling as usual (yes i know i had that coming as i was the worlds slowest eater, but i am quite sure she has broken my record)  and i said there was desert...

this usually speeds her up but i said there was two cookies, just two, and three of us at the table...
hmmm who gets them?  well he eats fast and furious and had already gobbled one cookie up before she had finished half her lunch,

i was holding the other cookie..

she was looking hopefully at the cookie, but not eating at all (of course, it was cold by now and not very appealing)  i held the cookie up to my mouth...
and he screeched ..."no mommy that is aviendas cookie!!!!!"

and i had an idea, a terrible, horrible idea, i am sure my face looked much like the grinch when he was smiling at cindy-lou who, and i said............
"you can have the cookie sweetie" 

to LEELAND

and he held his tiny hand out and said "ok mommy i will have it" in the very sweetest and slightly confused voice i have ever heard...

and my daughter started to cry...

yes i am horrible but i had to know...

and something happened then that i did not expect...

my son started to cry....

and said in the very most sincere and  loving voice i have ever heard...

 "here avienda you can have it, this is your cookie"

and as she wiped her tears and took the cookie

 he was till crying,

and i asked "whats wrong manny?"
of course i'm thinking he is now regretting that he doesn't have the cookie

and he said "my avienda is sad"

and i learned in that instant that all my "spoiling" had not spoiled him,

and i got him another cookie,
and i got her another cookie
and i ate a cookie myself
because life is short
and sometimes we need a reward.

happy birthday little mister big man,
i love you more than words could ever capture,
i thank God for you every single day
and i look forward to watching you become the man God made you to be.
tho i am not in a hurry so lets take our time...

a new year... an old gift

i sit here in the quiet and think back...  i know new years is traditionally the time to look ahead, to make a resolution that you don't really plan to keep, to shut the door on the last 365 days of your life you have used up and stubbornly look forward, resolving to make so much more of the next 365,

but i find myself looking back...

back to my children as babies,
back to the tiny apartment that smelled like old socks
back to my life as a single woman
back to my life as a sin filled woman

back to the moment i let Jesus find me
He had been pursuing me for some time and i had been ever evasive...

and then one starry night i sat on the hood of my car and let Him find me
and i gave Him all my hopes
all my dreams
all my fears
and all my sin

and i remember it was so very quiet,
He cleaned my soul, washed me in His blood
paid for me with His very life
and it was quiet

we went to the christmas eve service this year...
it was beautiful, and while i sat with my family all in a row,
the front row to be exact because we were late getting there and that's all that was left,
the room was semi dark, the singing subdued and i found myself breathing a sigh of relief, in all the busy, loud, craziness of preparing for christmas with little ones, the quiet moment to praise was a gift of peace.
i was singing praises to the Father for His gift of His son and something hit me that has never really hit me before...

the quiet

that when i think about the times God has spoken, has gifted me in some way, it is always quiet

the whole christmas season is full of sparkle and lights and fancy wrapped gifts, and fanfare on all sides, and i love all that stuff, but God speaks in the still small voice

i hear Him when i am quiet, when i am alone, when i am desperate and i have no delusions of my own grandeur.

i looked over at my beautiful son asleep on his daddys shoulder and felt the tears of understanding run down my face... He gave His son, HIS ONLY SON
and i thought about how He presented us with this most precious gift...
i am sure there was revelling going on in Bethlehem, all the inns were full, all the common rooms full to bursting with travellers.

and behind the inn, in a stable full of the animals that carried those revellers into town,
in the dirt, and straw, and quiet anticipation,

a baby boy takes his first breath...

yes i know the angels showed themselves to say He was born,
but they showed themselves to shepherds out in the fields,
in the quiet fields,
late at night,
they spoke of all humanities salvation, not in the towns where many gathered., but in the fields to the few who worked in silence,

and i thought of how i love to give gifts with fancy paper and shiny bows, to hear the excitement as they open them and find something they have wished for, the squeals of delight as my daughter hugs her new toy and laughs with the pure joy of youth and innocence, to see my son jump up and down "a train a train!!!"

and then i thought of how much fanfare i would want if i had to give my precious baby boy away
and the truth hit me...

there could never be enough fanfare, there could never be a big enough celebration for me to give him up

and my heavenly Father gave His precious son to us,
to me,
with no fanfare, with no streamers, and with no doubt how we,
how I,
would treat Him.

and i thanked Him for doing what i could not,
for sacrificing His beloved,
to make me His beloved

this year i am going to consciously look for the quiet
and i hope you find your quiet too...