Slowly, Silently

I recognized today my desire for communion. For community. I said to God, "I want to build it, like a house, and live in it and enjoy it." At first this seemed a bit selfish to me. Then I read this and began to wonder if this "house" might provide shelter for more than myself. Mmmm. Delightful wondering.
And yet this growth is like the slowness of the silent, forest day. The sun rises, the soft needles drift down, the branches sway, perhaps rain drips down. Nothing noisy, eventful, dramatic happens. Gentle rhythms are the main event. Slowly, silently - growth is happening.


Living things need an appropriate climate in order to grow and bear fruit. If they are to develop to completion, they require an environment that allows their potential to be realized. The seed will not grow unless there is soil that can feed it, light to draw it forth, warmth to nurture and moisture that unlocks its vitality. Time is also required for its growth to unfold.
... Meditation is the attempt to provide the soul with the proper environment in which to grow and become. In the lives of people like St. Francis or St. Catherine of Genoa one gets a glimpse of what the soul is able to become. Often this is seen as the result of heroic action lying beyond the possibility of ordinary people. The flowering of the human soul, however, is more a matter of the proper psychological and spiritual environment than of particular gifts or disposition or heroism. How seldom we wonder at the growth of the great redwood from a tiny seed dropped at random on the littered floor of the forest. From one seed is grown enought wood to frame several hundred houses. The human soul has seed potentional like this if it has the right environment. Remember that only in a few mountain valleys were the conditions right for the Sequoia gigantea, the mighty redwood, to grow.
... For both the seed and the soul, these things all take time. In both cases there is need for patience. Most of us know enough not to poke at the seed to see if it is sprouting, or to try to hurry it along with too much water or fertilizer or cultivation. The same respect must be shown for the soul as its growth starts to take place. Growth can seldom be forced in nature. Whether it is producing a tree or a human personality, nature unfolds it's growth slowly, silently.

~From The Other Side of Silence by Morton T. Kelsey

new van -- new vein

new van

Soon after we got pregnant we realized that we had a vehicle problem. The Mazda protege won't accommodate three children in the back - at least not in today's required carseats. We might have been able to get all three in the back of our Ford F-150 Extended Cab but that would have been both difficult and a tight fit. So we decided it was time to get a family truckster, a grocery getter, a van.
I am loving our new van.
First, it's just fun to have a new vehicle.
Second, it is still relatively clean. That's a big deal for our family. Not sure how long that will last.
Third, it's an automatic. "What's the big deal about having an automatic?" you ask. Well, this is only the second automatic vehicle I have ever owned. I had to learn to drive with a stick shift - that was not easy. For about a year I owned a Cutlass Cruiser (station wagon). It was lovely. I felt like I was floating down the highway. Pete and I sold that just before we got married. Since then it's been all manual transmissions. Do you know how difficult it is to eat an ice cream cone while driving a manual transmission? Aaargh! Well, this new van is a dream. It is so easy and I can do almost all of the driving with just ONE hand - wow! And just the other day I bought an ice cream cone, and I held it in my right hand, and I never once changed hands, and I ate it all without the least inconvenience - it was so sweet!
Fourth, it has an incredible number of cup holders and storage cubbies. I love cup holders and storage cubbies. There's even a hidden cubbie in the door armrest.
Fifth, I can slide in and out of this vehicle easily, even with this giant baby-belly-body.
Sixth, it will be so easy to get the baby in and out of this vehicle. Whew! Sure, they weigh about nothing when they first come out but soon you fear you will tear a muscle carrying that baby-in-carseat to and from anywhere. And getting it in and out of a vehicle can be back breaking.
Seventh, it's dark grey. We decided to get a year end deal by buying a 2005. Our color choices were white and baby blue. But at the last minute he found us a dark grey - wooo hooo!
Yeah, I think that's about it.


new vein

I got some really great varicose veins during my pregnancy with #2. I've added to my collection with this pregnancy. Yesterday, while toweling off after my shower, I found a spot near one of my new veins that was hot and sore. Uh-oh!
I called the nurseline and they, of course, wanted to see me at the hospital to check it out. And yes, I have a clot. It's not deep though, and that's good because we are hoping to treat it "non-agressively". I didn't ask what "aggressive" treatment might look like - yikes! "Non-agressive" currently means lying down 4 times a day and applying a hot compress to the spot, drinking lots of fluids, not crossing my legs or staying seated for too long, and watching for signs that things have gotten worse. The fear is that the clot would go deep and cut off circulation to my leg or would make it's way to my lung - which of course would be bad.

The bit of good news in all of this is that my midwife said that magic word... "induce". I said how great that would be and then asked when. She said week 39. That means I could possibly have this baby out in just 2 weeks!!! Oh Halleluia! Hang in there body-o-mine. I promise never to do this to you again.

Baby blather

I flipped the calendar to November and thought, "Oh my gosh! This is the month the baby comes! I can't believe we're that close."

She is due 3 weeks from tomorrow. 3 WEEKS!!! Every now and then I sort of freak out. Most days I would really like to have her out of my body, NOW! But reality hits when I think about something like writing out my birth plan. I get a shiver down my spine.

Sometimes the reality check is sweet, like when I try to picture what sweet-baby-girl will look like, smell like, feel like. We are so close to meeting her and there is nothing like that first introduction - pure glory!

Other times the reality check is a slow dawning.
I went completely drug free with #1's labor and delivery. (please insert amazed oohs and aaahs - whatever.) All the right elements were present: a supportive husband, a supportive midwife (John is the best!), a rested body, and a very motivated me. I rode the waves of pain like a surfer. Sure I got wet but I was able to stay just above the waves. All in all the labor was a relatively normal 24 hours and I only pushed for 30 minutes - pretty sweet all things considered.

The elements weren't quite so right with #2. We weren't rested - the hardest part of labor happened late at night. My midwife wasn't emotionally supportive, very clinical, which I think is so strange for a midwife to be clinical. anyway. The waves were on top of me. I couldn't get up. Crash! Crash! Crash! So I asked for drugs. I got an intrathecal, a shot of morphine to the spine. It's similar to an epidural but not so numbing. I could get up and walk if I wanted to. It tickled and tingled like when a limb falls asleep. It was a dream! The midwife asked, "what do you want to do now?" Jokingly I said, "Take a nap." She said, "O.K." "What!? Really? Sweet!" So we did. We took a nap for about 45 minutes. I woke knowing it was time to push. It was hell trying to wake Pete - he was out! We got the midwife and nurse in there and that baby was out in ten minutes. Ouch!
Afterwards I thought, "Why in the heck did I not take drugs with #1? Drugs rock!"
So I've been planning on having drugs with this baby. But here's the slow dawning... You don't get drugs with the first real contraction. You don't even go to the hospital until the contractions are coming every 5 minutes, and you can't talk or walk through one. Duh! It's like I'd thought I was going to get out of ALL of the pain - silly me. Crap! I can't believe I'm about to do this again. Plus, who knows, I may get there too late to have drugs. Third time around but I still don't really know what I'm in for. Oh boy!

Her room looks good. Just a few details to finish. And you just have to see the carseat - it so cute! We didn't want to spend $100 for a pink carseat. So we bought the brand we wanted but it had pooh on it, new pooh. I'm all for vintage pooh but I can't stand new pooh (I know that I just lost most of you there, but hang in there). Anyway, I got some vintage chenille off of ebay and covered the seat cushion and made a new hood. It is the cutest car seat EVER! When I first bring the baby around you'll be wanting to see the girl and I'll be "who cares about the baby! look at the carseat!" just kidding.

Well, this has gone on long enough. Perhaps tomorrow I can bore you with my complaints about how horribly huge and uncomfortable I've become. Thanks for listening to my blather.

Winter

Since my last post about my internal and familial stuggle I have noticed a significant shift within.

After I posted, things detriorated further, painfully so. Something inside me began to shut down. I didn't know what to do with this new thing. Where had my fight gone to? Why was I sensing this new stillness? And how was I to answer the demand to continue activity when my heart so clearly was readying the burrow for winter.

I felt adrift with no words to even name what was happening. Then Jan blogged this poem.

The seed is in the ground.
Now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work.
~~ Wendell Berry, A Timbered Choir

And then it became much more clear. Winter was here.

Now in my physical life I greatly dislike winter. The length and depth of coldness wear me down. But this internal winter feels like a gift. I know God's gentle leading is here. He is bringing on this season and asking me to acknowledge it's reality and to begin acting accordingly. My heart and mind have been filled with the sweetest images of winter. Warm, fur lined rabbit burrows. Thick, white blankets of snow. Soft smoke curling up from the cottage chimney. Bears with thick piles of fat curling up for the winter. Cozied up families shifting their activities away from the long, busy, harvest to a new time of hearth-side talks and early bedtimes.

In spring we tilled and planted - I began to wonder about the quality of the soil and seeds. In summer we tended and pulled weeds and watered - I began to see more clearly what was growing. In the fall we harvested - I knew a bitter harvest and felt the dying within me as frost came on. But now fall is past. Winter is here. And this winter is full of quiet, stillness, peace. And hope. This is a time of rest. A time of reduced, close-to-home living. This baby is coming soon (we have four weeks left). I feel God's arms coming around us like a big mother bear's. We are all wrapped up in a ball. I feel loved.

Yet, I am mindful of you. You, my beloved blogland commune-ity. You, my spiritual direction family. You, my friends. You are dear to me. You are important to this time. You may be experiencing your own season of winter.

Jan says, "Spring will come and with it the newness of life. Let us not grow weary in our waiting but find ways to nurture what is growing in secret." Sweet, wise Jan, thank you! And thank you blog friends - you help to nurture what is growing in secret.

It's a Norah day

My kids are watching Sesame Street. Norah Jones is on today singing to Elmo about missing the letter of the day, "Y".
"Don't know why "Y" didn't come."
I need some Norah today. I need some soulful crooning.

Howie Day Lyrics

Even the best fall down sometimes

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

Liar, liar!

It was supposed to come off as a joke. A very funny joke.

We are, of course, NOT naming our child Epiphany.

Baby girl has been named Talia Grace. (Tally for short.)
Talia - Hebrew - heaven's dew.
Tahlia - Greek - flowering, blooming.

I hope this clears things up.

:)

Third time's a charm

Yes, I know. Three posts in one day?! But Jaime got away with it once so I thought I'd try. :)

Well, what is so important that I would need to post for the third time today? We've decided on a name for our baby! We are naming her Epiphany.

That way when she is born I can say, "I just had an...

AMAZING NEWS!!!

Peter, my husband, has finally begun his own blog!
"That's amazing", you say.
Yes, I knew you'd be amazed.

Check him out at www.undecidedblogname.blogspot.com
His blog name is "some clever name".

He's good right? Wow, I've never seen such creativity! (We're like kindred spirits.)

:)

Concert Tonight!

We're off to see Caedmon's Call tonight. I'm really looking forward to it! (no, really?)

I've already posted one of their songs. Here's another one that I find myself going back to over and over.

"There's Only One (Holy One)"
Words and Music by Randall Goodgame

Left his seamless robe behind
Woke up in a stable crying
Lived and died and rose again
Savior for a guilty land

It's a story like a children's tune
And it's grown familiar as the moon
So now I ride my camel high
And I'm aiming for the needle's eye

I chased the wind, but I chased in vain
I chased the earth, but it would not sustain

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
There's only one, only one Holy One

Lord, You are my Prince of Peace
But this war brings me to my knees
See there's a table You've prepared
And all my enemies are there
But where my Shepherd leads
Where else can I go
Who else fills my cup till it overflows

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
There's only one, only one Holy One

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
To the Solid Rock I fly
Though He bids me come and die
There's only one, only one Holy One

There's only one who never fails
To beckon the morning light
There's only one who sets loose the gales
And ties the trees down tight
When all around my soul gives way
He is all my hope and stay
And there's only one, only one Holy One

I was going to add bold to my favorite lines but then I realized that I would be adding bold to pretty much the entire song. But there are some really sweet lines in there.

I hope to sing this with the congregation sometime. It would be so great to shout this out together.

Counter-culture Jesus

I'm blog stuck again. This time because I fear that I am being defined by my current "tough" place. Damn, I don't want that!

Can I walk this dark path without you thinking of me solely in terms of my dark path-ness? Can you see the God-child in the midst of this journey? Am I creating this dynamic by blogging about this dark path place so frequently?

Well dash it all, this dark path place is simply where I am. Furthermore, it is where I feel God is leading me. What am I to do?

Here are the current wonderings.

Matt. 10:34-37 Msg
Don't think I've come to make life cozy. I've come to cut -- make a sharp knife-cut between son and father, daughter and mother, bride and mother-in-law -- cut through these cozy domestic arrangements and free you for God. Well-meaning family members can be your worst enemies. If you prefer father or mother over me, you don't deserve me. If you prefer son or daughter over me, you don't deserve me.

Matt 15:1-3 NIV
Then some Pharisees and teachers of the law came to Jesus from Jerusalem and asked, "Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders?... Jesus replied, "And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition? For God said, 'Honor your father and mother' and 'Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.' But you say that if a man says to his father or mother, 'Whatever help you might otherwise have received from me is a gift devoted to God,' he is not to 'honor his father' with it. Thus you nullify the word of God for the sake of your tradition. You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you;
"'These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.'"

Wow, feel the tension! So which is it? One seems like an apple, the other an orange. Or rather, one is a butterfly, the other a bowling ball. But God is calling me into the tension. Not to be torn apart, but to wonder, to hold this tension gently.

Already he is revealing something. In the Matt 15 passage I run ahead and jump into the tension. This time he stopped me early. Listen.
"Why do your disciples break the tradition of the elders?... Jesus replied, "And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition?"
Families are full of tradition. We all have a system that we grew up in. Was it surprising to you when you first realized that other families didn't do things the way your family did things? Did you get hurt when you unintentionally stepped over that invisible line at your friend's house? your date's house? In recent years I have become more aware of my own family's system. And now I am making choices to break the traditions of my family. I can hear my mom's voice in place of the Pharisee's, "Gloria claims to be your disciple. So why does she break the traditions of this family? How disrespectful and unloving! This is the way we've always done things, as did our parents!" and Jesus responding to her, "I am indeed calling her to love and respect, to the commands of God that have been in place for all time. But your traditions are not my traditions. I have come to cut through these cozy domestic arrangements and free her, and you, for God."
Ah, it's coming together a bit.

This still doesn't solve the tension of being daughter against mother, let alone the tension of being cut free for God while still honoring and respecting my parents.

"Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely." Matt 13:12 Msg

Lord, I open my heart to you. Make it ready. In your good timing flow.

getting to know me?

For you Eija, and for anyone else who might find this interesting,

5 things I plan to do before I die: (these aren't really plans, more like dreams or hopes).
1. Birth one more child. (not a lot of options on this one)
2. Travel: Grand Canyon, Ireland, take kids to tropical beach.
3. Own and renovate either a 1920's bungalow or a turn of the century farm house.
4. Learn tai chi.
5. have goats and chickens again
6. learn to play the cello or guitar

5 things I can do:
1. Quilt and make penny rugs.
2. Pray
3. Sing
4. Find a good deal
5. Cook and Bake

5 things I cannot do:
1. html good buddy.
2. almost anything athletic
3. stay away from sugar
4. enjoy goat cheese
5. fake it well

5 things that attract me to (the opposite sex) Peter:
1. The way he smells, specifically his neck.
2. When he loses control laughing.
3. His willingness to listen
4. His out-of-the-box perspective
5. His courage

5 things I say most often:
1. Beautiful!
2. Crap!
3. Oh my gosh!
4. God, what are you inviting here?
5. Feel free to fuss in your room or outside, just not by me.

5 Celebrity crushes:
1. Lenny Kravitz - oh come on!!!
Dudes I like from the roles they played in a movie:
2. Leonardo DiCaprio - from his role in Titanic - reminds me of a young Peter Carlson
3. Orlando Bloom - from his role as Legolas - strong silent type.
4. The guy Bridget Jones ends up with in Bridget Jones' Diary - can't remember his name - strong silent type.
5. The younger Mr. Emerson from "Room With a View" - his passion and masculinity is beautiful!

5 People I want to do this next:
anyone who can do this with a great deal of wit and sarcasm, including but not limited to:
1. Anne Lamott - that would be so great - yeah, like she even reads this blog.
2. my husband - yeah, like he even reads this blog :)
3. Judy Hougen
4. Joel of preaching don't pay

two blogs I like

Here are two blogs that I really like.

pearl -- www.pearlsoul.blogspot.com

joel -- www.whiskeyreview.blogspot.com

Held

As I go through this journey, stepping out into this new land, I find your comments of great encouragement. Thank you to each of you for your words.

Since writing my last post I have felt positively held by God. There is pain and grief but it is not consuming me. We sit together. Love, pain, grief, hope, me, the Father, sitting together.

I love the Caedmon's Call cd. They've traveled to India, Equador and the pain and beauty these places hold. What they sing of has gotten mixed up with Katrina, my family, my Family, my God journey - all of it. This song has been part of the recent day's "holding".

Caedmon's Call - Share the Well

Wings of the Morning
words and music by Andrew Osenga and Joshua Moore

I woke to the sirens of the city
They were calling me to hold my head up high
But the truth was in the dust that hangs like curtains
From the beggars to the sky

The ads and billboards rained in every language
The message every politician knows
When we're fed that we are nothing we'll believe it
And then do what we are told

The spark of the divine
I see it in your eyes
It's there behind the lies that tie you down

On the wings of the morning
Hope is rising
In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

Ask any good detective, he will tell you
It's the eyes that always give the truth away
And in yours I see the fear that's bound and gagged you
With no hope for escape

It's true that we are fallen as an angel
But you and me, we're also holy as a prayer
Made in the image of a giver and a lover
Who left His throne to come down here

The spark of the divine I see it in your eyes
It's there behind the lies that tie you down

On the wings of the morning
Hope is rising
In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

We will rise, rise, on the wings of the morning
Though we hide, hide, in the shadows of night
There is hope, hope, in the hands that have made us
And are holding us tight...

Hope is rising... on the wings of the morning
Hope is rising... in the shadows of the night
Hope is rising... from the hands that have made us
And are holding us tight...

I love this song. It makes me feel like a hero. Both of my parents grew up being fed the lie that they were nothing, and then doing what they were told. No freedom, tied down with lies. I think that is part of the reason my choices have been such a slap in the face - just who do I think I am?!? I'm hoping the ties are being loosened.

My mom described my current place as a "stronghold". Strong. Hold. Mmmmmm... Oh, I hope so. "Hope is rising... from the hands that have made us and are holding us tight."


In the darkest night
Your love and light prevail

What did I expect?

I've been noticing in myself this desire to reconnect with my family of origin, one sister in particular. But each time I would internally move toward the idea I found that there was no bridge over the water. Yet, still I found that I was left with this vague, nagging sense of responsibility to fix this thing I'd broken.

I sat down with Pete on Sunday and had a 'come present to what is' conversation. Here's what is: I miss my family, sometimes a lot. I feel so sad about the choices they've made. I have been listening to the nagging voice. I have been accepting the role of "the-only-one-who-can-fix-the-problem". I have been afraid to make a move, and have been passively sitting here.

Monday evening my mom left a message on our answering machine that I did not receive until this morning. It went something like, "How are you? I haven't talked with you in a while and I'm wondering how you are doing on your crafts for the Calico Barn. I'm also wondering how Livy and Gunnar are doing at school. Would love to hear from you. Mom." Normal. Completely normal. But my internal response was hurt, offense and frustration. I went and took a shower and found myself praying 'Our Father', but not getting past the first line. It quickly turned into "my father, my father, my father". I was back to my 'permanent trade' blog.

I took some time to read, pray and journal. Then it was time to take action. To be clear about my intensions. I sent mom and email.

Mom,
First I'd like to say that, like you, I'm desiring to reconnect. I miss you and think of you often.
However, this is where things are with me. You have chosen to listen to others when they talk about me. I don't feel safe sharing myself with you, nor do I feel o.k. about acting like things are normal between us. Because you have chosen to behave in a way that I find personally hurtful and relationally destructive, I have decided to protect myself by remaining separate. There's been no change in the way the family relates, or in the way that you relate to me, therefore I have decided to remain outside of family relations.
Love,
Gloria

Then I checked out blogworld and came across Erin's blog. Found these Sara Groves words:

"The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy to discard
I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
I am caught between the promise
And the things I know
...
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I've learned
And those roads were closed off to me
While my back was turned"

My Lord has such sweet timing.

But here's the funny thing (funny strange, not funny ha ha). I talked with Pete at lunch today about my family's system and that right now change is not really even an option because they get their emotional and relational needs met through the existing system. Despite all of that I was still taken aback by my mom's response to my email. It follows:
Thanks for you reply - Then I am to expect that you will not be joining us for the holidays? What are you thinking about taking part in the name exchange? Also, I am expecting that you will not take some time to pick out the material for the baby blanket - if you are not going to complete the cross stitch, please send the squares back - someone else will finish them.Love Mom
Oh, by the way, we will be gone the 24th - you have clothes from Cedar Rapids and Denver and the recliner is still there for you if you want it. The clothes are downstairs in a large suitcase (keep the suitcase - it's from Gina) and 3 large shopping bags. So you can come that week end when we are not there so you don't have to see us.
Love,Mom

So what was I expecting? That she would break? That she would give up on the old system? That she would change her mind? That all of my crazy actions would suddenly make sense to her?

I still find myself surprised that my family can't function or bear the thought that I would ask them not to talk about me behind my back. What?! I know all of the logical reasoning. But my heart won't hear any of that. My heart is like a child and it just wants my family to love me.

So let's have a toast to the tension of pressing into my new identity where God is my father while still holding the love and the pain of my earthly family.

make mine monastic

But in St. Benedict himself we have a layman writing a guide for his household, his extended family of brothers with their busy shared life and all its inevitable demands: preparing food and washing up, looking after guests, maintaining buildings and property, educating children, caring for the sick, and also earning a living. His concern was to help them impose on this busy life such a structure and order (both external and interior) that they could make prayer the one essential priority, the central focus of everything else. There was here no separation of prayer and life. Everything flowed from one center...

from the Preface to Seeking God: the way of St. Benedict, both preface and book by Esther de Waal

How delightfully domestic! How mundane! How normal these inevitable demands of life! But to find no separation of prayer and life - that's the unusual thing.

This is just what the great physician ordered. I am so looking forward to reading this book.

Yearning

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Meanwhile, themoment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He know us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

Romans 8: 22-28 The Message

The new and the not-yet remain for me as a dream, hoped for but unrealized. I wait.

Oh Delight!

As we prayerfully consider what God is leading us to concerning this new community that Jan is proposing please check out Paul Freedland and his community at www.spaceforgod.com

It is delightful to find other travelers along the road.

Peace to you my brothers and sisters!

Tame this

You give life to everything,
You give life to everything,
You give life to everything.
Blessed be your name!


"I'm never going to ride you am I? And no one ever should."
Indian boy to the horse Spirit in the movie Spirit.

grief for a friend

I received a packet in the mail today. It was from a college friend who now lives in Arizona.

The packet came to announce the life, birth and death of her baby boy. She was approximately four months along in her pregnancy when labor began. They were unable to stop it, so the baby was born. He lived for an hour.

I am filled with sadness for her.

holding babies

This morning at around 4:30 AM my two sweet kids were sneaking around whispering. Pete got up to send them back to bed. This type of activity is not usual but they were both excited about the play that they are working up with the neighborhood kids - they wanted to get working!

At 7:30 Gunnar came hopping into bed with me. "Mom, can I sleep with you?" Now usually that means, "Mom, can I wiggle around in your bed until you are completely awake?" But today he fell promptly back to sleep. Lucky boy. I didn't.

In his sleep he did a few jerks and grunts. Baby girl was doing her own morning movement. She started with hiccups, then moved on to other 'cat in a bag' strange movements. Wish I could figure out which parts are which.

It delights me to see my children sleeping. For brief moments they are my babies again.

And suddenly I realized that even though I am tired of being pregnant that this is the only time that I get to fully 'hold' this child. Very soon she will be set spinning, ever more out and away from me.

To everything there is a season. Delight in the moment.

Vintage

I was born in the summer of '69. I am a child of the 70s. Being such, I still enjoy music from the 70s. Yesterday I listened to some very vintage Phil Keaggy.

Yesterday also found me working with a quilt with top dating to circa 1880. I found the quilt top on ebay. I sent it with batting (filling) and backing to a machine quilter in Iowa. Yesterday I was working on the binding (finished edge). I adore old quilts, especially those that date 1910 and earlier. Sadly, quilts this old are either expensive or in poor shape. This quilt top had never been used or washed--nice, crisp fabric. Some of the dyes they used during this period were toxic to the fabric and over time cause the fabric to become quite fragile. There are many fragile fabrics on this quilt, one that ripped during quilting. Still, finishing the quilt stabilized it. It was fun examining the 75+ fabrics in my hope of accurately dating the quilt.

It was strange and wonderful to mix my personal history with this quilt's history.

Poustinia

"So many of us feel that the rest of men are looking for him where he cannot be easily found - in the comfortable life which is in itself not sinful, but which can become a sort of asphyxiation and isolation from the rest of mankind. Comfort can become an idol too."

Poustinia


I think that makes me part of "the rest of men". And yes, I know of asphyxiation and isolation. There is much in me that has yet to be set free... or at least has yet to realize it's already free state.

in silence revealed

'Have you understood all these?'
They said, 'Yes.'
And he said, 'Well then,
every scribe who becomes a disciple
of the kingdom of Heaven
is like
a householder
who brings out from his storeroom
new things
as well as old.'

Matt. 13: 51 & 52 New Jerusalem Bible.

a few things

1. I've had to change my settings to allow registered users only - can't believe I'm getting blog junkmail.

2. I'm off to my silent retreat this afternoon. I have really been looking forward to this. I'm sure the weekend will go too fast.

3. Thank you to all of you for the comments you've been leaving. Your words and support mean much to me.

Peace to you. God's peace to you.

gloria