Building Fairy Houses

This nice weather has led to many hours outdoors and the children have loved making fairy houses:

 
Inspired by the book Fairy Houses by Tracy Kane, the children follow the rules carefully:

They see nature with a new eye. Sticks, leaves, pine cones, nuts--that could be a bed!, that could be a blanket!, that could be a table!

When they play they are focused, quiet and careful. They also ran around cleaning up their outside toys, because they were afraid the man-made objects might scare the fairies away!

I highly recommend this book for the hours of creative play it has given my children and inspiring a deeper love of nature!

I also came across this post from A Handmade Childhood today on the Fairy House book!

When Early March Seems Middle May

Charlotte Mason writes, "Never be within doors when you can rightly be without." With this warm weather, we've tried taking her advice. We'll see how it goes with the week of rain expected!

When Early March Seems Middle May

When country roads begin to thaw
In mottled spots of damp and dust,
And fences by the margin draw
    Along the frosty crust
Their graphic silhouettes, I say,
The Spring is coming round this way

When coughs are changed to laughs, and when
Our frowns melt into smiles of glee,

 And all our blood thaws out again
    In streams of ecstasy,
And poets wreak their roundelay,
The Spring is coming round this way.

by James Whitcombe Riley

Ordinary or Extraordinary Moments?

Andy Crouch posted this on Culture Making saying, " “A visual exploration of the moments that define our lives, suffused with grief, gratitude, and wonder. Wow.”


Moments from Everynone on Vimeo.




It made me see all of these small moments of our lives in a different light. Ordinary or Extraordinary?

A Sabbath Sensibility

We have struggled in our attempt to observe Sabbath as a family. At times, it has been difficult to stop just because the calendar says it is Sunday—the mountain of work looms, the interferences are many. Then when we first tried to truly carve out time to rest, it was hard to know what actually we should do with the time. Jean Vanier writes in The Broken Body, “Rest, relaxation and discipline are important. I am surprised, at L’Arche and elsewhere, that many people do not know how to rest. They are like rolling locomotives, fuelled by anguish, and perhaps by the fear of stopping. And when they do stop, it is just to sleep more or to potter around, not knowing what to do. Each one of us must find our own secret rhythm of how to rest, relax and find re-creation, for each one of our bodies is different…This is all the more important for those of us who are called to live with much tension and to carry great stress. This tension and stress that we experience as we live with wounded people can prevent growth and stimulate anger and exhaustion…” (p. 120).

By seeing Sabbath as a practice has helped us begin asking the right questions about what to do and how to go to learn how to enter into God’s rest for our souls. For us, we begin on Saturday night with a special meal, Scripture and prayer. As we light a candle it is a signal, the time for rest is now, the time for delight is here. We quiet ourselves and hear from God’s Word, the passage for the Sunday sermon. We then are more prepared as we go on Sunday to worship at our church, entering into a beautiful rhythm of prayer, praise, confession, teaching, and feasting. Then home for a family meal, sometimes with friends, sometimes just our family. Especially since we have little ones, we then find a period for napping or resting with music or a book is restorative. Back when we watched television we began to realize that for us we were not restored or uplifted after watching and we turned it off on Sundays during our Sabbath. We like to go on walks when the weather permits…or find other activities which will help the children to play quietly or have family time with a game or a favorite read-aloud. And then with our Sunday dinner meal, our Sabbath is over which gives us time to clean-up and prepare for the week ahead which becomes much different in light of a Sabbath rest. It is just what our family needs, but perhaps yours might look quite different.

But as we attempted Sabbath a new problem arose, in deciding that the Lord’s Day should be a place for restoration, other areas begin to suffer. At first resting on Sunday meant an overwhelming Monday, so much laundry, dishes, and dirt it was hard to begin again. I then began to prepare more on Saturday but then this became a crazy day of preparing meals, cleaning, running errands so that we all collapsed on Sunday and found it hard to enter into an attitude of worship and delight.

This is where Norman Wirzba’s explanation of Sabbathobservance is helpful:

“…we have grown used to thinking of Sabbath observance as an add-on to the end of a busy week. Sabbath is a time for us to relax and let down our guard, to pause from the often anxious and competitive patterns of daily life. This is not what the Jews, those who first gave us the teaching about Sabbath, thought. In their view, Sabbath observance is what we work toward. As our most important and all-encompassing goal, it frames and contextualizes our planning, much as the desire to achieve a specific objective—a championship, a masterful performance, an exquisite meal or party—will require that we take the proper steps all along the way. Sabbath frames our entire life, helping us set priorities and determine which of our activities bring honor to God." (p. 22-23).

That is how an understanding of Sabbath became more and more life-shaping,changing our habits and sensibilities of what our work each day should look like. Why are we so exhausted by Sunday? What is my house such a mess? Why can’t I let go of the anxieties of my week? Why am I so drawn to escape during this time rather than experience true quiet and rest? How can I, in this present season of my life, deadlines from work nearing, or the parent of young children with constant demands, or requirements of serving in a particular ministry on Sunday, or…

And that is again where Vanier is so helpful,

We must learn

not just to free ourselves from tension and fatigue

on the Sabbath day, our day of rest.

We must also learn

as the mother must learn

in front of the never-ending needs of her children,

how to respect our energy

and relax in all the moments of our day

filled as they may be with arduous work

or often tiresome meetings,

and crises of all sorts,

and the hundred and one things-that have-to-be-done.

To do this we must discover how to harmonize

the active and the passive in us.

If we are just doers,

feeling terribly responsible and serious,

we will crack up one day.

We must nourish the passive part of us,

our hearts made for personal love,

learning to listen to others,

to marvel at nature,

to rest a moment in the presence of Jesus,

to receive the love of those around us

and be nourished by their trust,

enjoying the little things of each day,

not taking ourselves too seriously,

accepting to become like little children. (p. 121)

Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places

For this Sabbath, a bit of Gerard Manley Hopkins:

— for Christ plays in ten thousand places, 

Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his 

To the Father through the features of men's faces. 

I caught a glimpse...

May you too find one of those ten thousand places on this Lord's Day. 

A Blessed Sabbath. 

Amy

Small is truly beautiful

I continue to mull over these lines that I came across today as I read Jean Vanier's The Broken Body in preparation for a Sunday school discussion I am leading on hospitality. I thought immediately of two different friends in two different areas of Wisconsin who are in the early years of planting new churches. I hope if they are reading, they will find encouragement.

But as these words began to sink in, I heard a message for me as well. My world has grown very small in the last five years as a mother. I no longer interact with hundreds of people a day as a I once did; I no longer travel around the country as I once did. Even my ability to get out of the house on a given day is much more limited with 3 young children! This has been something that has been frustrating to me at times--I had bought into the idea that doing big things, public things, things that paid good money were what made life meaningful and without the big things life was suffocating. Vanier suggests seeing the small as the necessary way to be bonded in love and to belong in community. This has led me to ponder these words then not just for small churches but our small family:



It is sometimes difficult
in communities which are small
and where only a few broken people seem to receive life
to believe that it all has meaning.
There is something in us all
which thinks that 'big is beautiful'.
We feed we must do big things,
strike at the source of evil and not the symptoms,
do good on a large scale
welcome and save more and more people,
organize things,
propagate a message all over the world,
write books,
speak on television.
But the more we do this,
the more we risk losing the essential,
uprooting ourselves from the bonds of love;
thus we begin to die.

The basis of true human life,
is a rooting in the earth,
faithful relationships,
fidelity to those to whom we are bonded in love,
carrying one another's burdens,
sharing with them their joy and their pain.
It is compassion and forgiveness.
Small is truly beautiful.
Jesus spent thirty gentle, loving years
with Joseph and Mary,
teaching us about rooting, about a sense of belonging,
and forming community.
Nazareth is our school of life
teaching us
to live humbly in the presence of God,
to work with our hands,
to welcome people as they are
     with their gifts and their hurts,
to walk in truth,
to open our hearts to people and to nature.

And it will be from there,
from fidelity and love
for those with whom we are called to live,
that we might be called to stand firm
against insolent might and power structures;
called also to the struggle
to help each person find
their rightful place in society and in the Church,
and the space in which to grow.
It will be from there that each of us,
according to our call and our gift,
will become an agent of change and of love
for the whole society. (p. 137-138)


Blessings to those of you that are currently in the school of Nazareth. May you find the place you are rooting, though small, is truly beautiful.

“He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.” – Psalm 1:3a (ESV)

Rainy Day Blues

This rainy Monday began with us all feeling out of sorts. In our house it is rare that we all are tired and grumpy on the same day for no reason at all.

Usually if it is a rainy day and the children are blue, I come up with fun activities to keep us all going: baking a special treat, a new craft, bikes in the basement, a fort, or a tea party. Or if I'm the one having difficulty, we can just keep on, keepin' on. It may not be the most magnificent day of mothering and teaching, but we stay disciplined and still accomplish more than I would've imagined.

Today was neither of those days. Everything I tried didn't break the cycle of whining and fatigue through morning devotions, penmanship and coloring time. Even playing fort with sheets and blankets turned out poorly.

Until I sat us all down for a bowl of chocolate pudding as I read aloud the wonderful edition of Peter Pan by JM Barrie, illustrated by Michael Hague.

If I'd pause they'd beg for more and so I just read and read and read. The first chapter and the vocabulary are a bit difficult, but they were captivated. Finally we all began to feel better. We then turned to our favorite classical music. As I worked in the kitchen, they swirled as snowflakes to the Pas de Deux from the Nutrcracker, ice skated to a Strauss waltz, were falling leaves to Bizet, and danced to Vivaldi's Spring. Before long, it was time for a warm bowl of soup.

Sometimes the ordinary doesn't feel quite so splendid but hopefully it doesn't have to stay that way for long.

So what do you do to bring a little cheer for dreary days?

For more ideas on beating winter burnout, check out the Loveliness Fair at Amongst Lovely Things; you'll be encouraged by these wise and fun ways to short-circuit winter burnout.

Seeing the Face of God

Having moved from the mid-west to the mid-Atlantic, we can hardly believe the amount of rain we get here. My husband, a lover of all weather, is in his element, but the other day as my husband left for work, my 4 year-old daughter declared that "there was nothing beautiful in the rain." I tried to explain to her the goodness of the rain for the earth and the beauty it brought but she wasn't buying it. So I decided some things just couldn't be argued, they had to be shown. Despite a long to-do list, a mountain of laundry, school lessons to begin, I bundled everyone in the car and headed to one of our favorite spots in the neighborhood to search for beauty, even in the rain.

I was not sure what we would find, how hard it might rain, what would happen to the rest of our day, if my plan would work...but it seemed an important lesson for her. The problem was I was not quite sure what the lesson was myself.

I have just finished Olive Kitteridge, the lovely yet sad 2009 Pulitzer-prize winning book, that conveys a world of brokenness where even religion cannot bring comfort: "Hell. We're always alone. Born alone. Die alone" Olive says.  Despite their loneliness and pain, the characters eke out for themselves small moments of love, meaning.  The book was powerful, leaving me with a "book hangover" for days. I found it hard to shake its despair couched in lines of beauty. And when I despair for the world around me, I'm always led to a fear for what my children's lives will become.

I have found a world "charged with the grandeur of God" as Hopkins writes, but what if my children don't see it? What if somehow I cannot communicate or reveal to them who God is in a world "seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil," a world that "wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell."

We got stuck in a long line of traffic...the sear of trade and toil...A car cut us off as the lanes merged into one...man's smudge...the road was littered with ugly storefronts and trash waiting to be collected...ahh, man's smell... the winds howled, I became afraid. What was I doing trying to show them beauty in all of this?  Should we just go home?

And then from the back row of the mini-van, filled with food crumbs, straw wrappers, old books, discarded socks, a spare diaper or two, I heard my daughter gasp in awe and seriousness:

"Mommy, I just saw the face of God in the clouds..."

I, of course, do not know what she saw. But I know she found more than beauty. Small-minded, I was hoping for some lovely mud puddles, perhaps some rain dripping from leaves. She saw God. Ahhh, yes, Mr. Hopkins, you knew so well, that even at the brown brink of a morning, "the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and ah! bright wings."

 Upon our eventual arrival to our nature study spot, the clouds parted.

Delighting in their freedom and ability, they ran with abandon,

the beauty of raindrops still sitting on the blades of grass,

 

stillness after the storm.

Early Morning "Date-Night"

It seems the time we have alone is so rare now. Good Husband and I.

Three little ones demand our attention continually. Limited babysitting funds go to adult dinner parties, work function, church meetings. Most often, we are weary at the end of the day and fall into bed, asleep within minutes.

And so today, we woke up early. Rather, I pushed you out of bed with a groan and downstairs we went. The living room was chilly and dark and we sat in the quiet under an old afghan made by an auntie long gone. You fell back to sleep while I put the coffee on--a slow start to our Early Morning "Date-Night."

But as we sipped our coffee and the day awakened, we found each other again. Neither of us were ever much for conversation early in the morning and so we enjoyed the company and rare quiet in a house of three children, four and under. Of course, our talk started with them as it usually does, who could resist when they seemed so lovable, snug asleep in their beds, first night in their winter pajamas.

But as the caffeine woke us up, we moved on to more serious things. I shared a sense of failure, you comforted me. You shared a worry, I comforted you. I shared a vanity, you understood. And amazingly, the children slept. Children who wake each other every morning around 6:30, slept till 8:30.

A gift of grace just when we needed it.

And so we even had time for more--more time to plan and dream, more time to laugh, more of each other.

I was reminded of why I love you, of what we care about, of who we are.

I was reminded of the old days (we've been married 10 years now, dating since 96, 10 years no longer seems long!). Days we spent in coffee shops browsing magazines, reading books, writing papers, pretending to grade our students papers, but mostly chatting.

And here it is: all that we dreamed up then, we are living now. House, work, children, community, a way of life...

We had so much time then but didn't know it. Now it so easy to think of the waste during those years, urged by a culture to take the time for ourselves, for our education, "to get to know each other." Why didn't we save more money then? Why didn't we start having children earlier? Why did we spend so much time in coffee shops? And yet those days are so far gone; the questions, the looking back, unnecessary.

And so we, much like the very first couple must no longer look back but continue on hand in hand:

They looking back all the eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,
Waned over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms:
some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;

The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and providence their guide:
They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.

Yes, much of our plans and dreams have come true. But we too know that this is not Eden. We do not have enough time with each other. We do not have enough money for babysitters. We fall into bed too tired. We have failures and worries and vanities.

But unlike that first couple, we have a Love that does not let us go. The Gospel message rings true. Our weak and broken attempts to love are drawn up into Himself until it overflows, more than we ever thought we could give to each other, to our children, to our community. And His Love is enough.

The steps are still wandering and slow, but they are never solitary.

Reflections on Psalm 106, Reading for the Daily Office.

Psalm 106 (ESV, but at times paraphrased from my journal):

1 Praise the Lord!
Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever!
2 Who can utter the mighty deeds of the Lord?

6 Both we and our fathers have sinned...

7 We did not consider...
We did not remember...
the abundance of His steadfast love...

8 Yet He saved us.

45 For their sake He remembered His covenant,
and relented according to the
abundance of his steadfast love.

47 Save us, O Lord our God,
that we may give thanks to your Holy Name.

And so I attempt, as the Psalmist, to consider, to remember the abundance...

• For the 4 people asleep upstairs right now; snug in their beds, resting in the peace of your protection.

• For the 12 students who gathered around our table yesterday for Christian fellowship, prayer and to know You more through the work of your Church.

• For 1 large ham, gift of parents, that we shared with these new friends. It brought much happiness: full bellies and hints of home. God's provision comes through others and it brings delight.

• For 5 little pumpkins (as the song goes) which bring beauty to doorstep and root us in time and place. 5 little signs that it is now we delight in cool weather (but not too cold!) hearty meals, wool sweaters, pumpkin pie.

• My own big green chair crammed into corner of dining room so that I may have "my own space" to read, write, pray. Here I learn more of who He is and in that light, who I am too. Chair, purchased on the cheap from our church's furniture thrift shop, blessing to me and to others--100% of profit goes to missions.

• For 1 new day about to begin. Though it is still dark, the birds have begun their song. Perhaps they are praising His name too and passing onto each other the sermon of St. Francis, yesterday his feast day. St. Francis loved all of God's creation, seeing His handiwork as proof of His love and spoke thus to the little birds:
  

"My little sisters the birds, ye owe much to God, your Creator, and ye ought to sing his praise at all times and in all places, because he has given you liberty to fly about into all places; and though ye neither spin nor sew, he has given you a twofold and a threefold clothing for yourselves and for your offspring. Two of all your species he sent into the Ark with Noah that you might not be lost to the world; besides which, he feeds you, though ye neither sow nor reap. He has given you fountains and rivers to quench your thirst, mountains and valleys in which to take refuge, and trees in which to build your nests; so that your Creator loves you much, having thus favoured you with such bounties. Beware, my little sisters, of the sin of ingratitude, and study always to give praise to God." qtd. at Catholic Culture

May we too my little sisters (and brothers) see God's abundance and provision in the midst of our daily lives and give praise to God.

Thank you also, Albany Intercessor, your faithfulness to Morning Prayer and the lectionary has been a great encouragement to me.
Thank you Barb at My Daily Round, your faithfulness to your gratitude journal has also encouraged.
And, of course, Ann whose1000 Gifts Multitude Mondays, have encouraged so many.

On leaving behind an old self and finding I like the new self better.

On leaving behind an old self and finding I like the new self better.

I used to try to get everything done.
Used to think I could.
I was a teacher of literature and poetry and writing.

Then I had three kids of my own.

And started homeschooling them.

Now I

Grow butterflies instead of house plants.

Collect finger prints instead of art prints.

Eat family friendly instead of complicated gourmet.

I have an audience of 3 instead of 103.

I hear puppet-show narrations instead of expository essays.

I read fairy tales instead of the Great Books.

I receive hugs instead of paychecks.

Though I no longer teach in a public space,

I still
care, love, reflect,
plan, assess, correct,

cry, laugh, learn.

But now I get snuggles in return.

I don't get a Thanksgiving, Christmas, Spring or
Summer Break from these students.

But each morning I do get

frowzy, warm, little boy hands rubbing my back

or

giggles greeting me from baby bouncing in crib

or

a groan from under pillow of the oldest growing too fast.

And I know my work has begun again.
We share OJ and oatmeal, prayer and praise.

At this school, I count baking (and eating) goodies
as my part of my curriculum.














A bike ride as

Physical Education.

I have a whole world as my scope.
My inspiration sets our sequence.

I end these students' day, not with homework
but covers pulled up under chin,

prayer, confession and blessing,
kisses, I love yous, nigh-nighs, one more song,

and a "can we have donuts for breakfast?"
I guess, it's always worth a try.

And finally they are all asleep,

hopefully for the night.

The house, our school room, is hushed.

Instead of desks to clean, there are still dishes.

Instead of piles of grading, there is always more laundry.

But no last bell, just quiet.

The quiet satisfaction of work well-done and days well-spent.
Work never quite done, always to be repeated,
fraught with imperfection and sin,
a liturgy of love,
a litany of my life for yours.


**The original inspiration for this post came from The Flourishing Mother...It was so wonderful for me to work through these ideas. Thanks, Andrea.

Brightening our Rainy Day

This grace-filled song has been brightening our rainy day!




Hope you enjoy as much us we have!

A New Other World

"Have you ever been up at five o'clock on a fine summer morning? It is very beautiful. The sunlight is pinky and yellow, all the grass and trees are covered with dew diamonds. And all the shadows go the opposite way to the way they do in the evening, which is very interesting and makes you feel as though you were in a new other world."

-E. Nesbitt Five Children and It

Well, I'm finally posting after a month of silence. Is there anyone left reading?!

Our summer has been so full, it has been difficult to find the space mentally to write and once I stopped it was hard to begin again. It makes me appreciate even more my husband's ability to write, fitting his writing in between classes and office hours, or late at night when we are all asleep!

Don't get me wrong, I love summer: there are a million and one ways to spend a day and the freedom to do it. Yet by August I begin to look forward to the more structured routines of normal life. With all of the fun of summer, I've found it difficult not just to blog but to have time alone...to read, write, reflect...

And so, I have begun a new habit of waking up in the early morning. I'm loving it so much, I hope it will continue into the Fall but it may just be for this season of my life. I know there are seasons it certainly wouldn't have worked--the last months of pregnancy, night-wakings with a nursing baby, lots of late nights in a row. But though my days have been busy, I've been getting good sleep for the first time in a long while! And though I'd covet a few more minutes of sleep, the idea of time all to myself to do with as I please, is enough to get me going.

What do I do with these hours to myself?

It's been varied. But mainly I have good coffee and good books, time in prayer and Scripture, and end with a run and a shower.

Time to experience quiet. Experience peace. Experience beauty. The Nesbitt quote above says it so well. In the early morning, when the house is hushed, all seems good and fresh and new. And a hope and a desire build that the day will continue this way. Okay, with a house of little ones, it will never stay hushed, it shouldn't, right?! Not so quiet then, but an inner peace that overflows and fills the house.

Have you noticed how a mother's mood infects an entire household?

I know when I don't get this personal space, I become impatient and irritable, snapping instead of training, ignoring instead of correcting. I also get an overwhelming desire for escape and so can fritter away time on a project or on the internet. I am not present to the people and tasks at hand. I do dishes and daydream. I fold laundry and mentally compose an email. I cook dinner and plan meals for the week. It is no wonder I then do not enjoy these tasks.

The message our culture sends us is "faster is better; more is better." Susan Wise Bauer writes in the recent magazine article entitled, "Stop cleaning the kitchen and read a book" in the The Classical Teacher that to take the time to read a good book

"pushes back against our society, which tells us that the faster we work, the more we do, the more we produce and accumulate and experience, the better we are...But classical self-education helps us reorient ourselves away from that which is a market ethic. Speed and productivity are not moral goods. It is not ethically superior to do more and to be faster. Reading to yourself in the mornings, instead of doing something else (something "productive") pushes back against the speed ethic, the 'more is better' ethic. It resists the message that says to us: In order to be worthwhile, you must produce something tangible. When you choose to read instead of clean the kitchen you are refusing to accept that your worth as a person is measured by the visible results that you produce in the world. You are asserting, instead, that your worth as a person is based on who you are and who you were created to be...created in the image of God."

And so I may be tempted in this time to plan. I love my lists! Plan our day, our lessons, our grocery list, but I want to resist that. I may be tempted to catch up on internet reading, facebook, emails, but I want to resist that. Not that these things are in themselves problematic, but once the day begins there is little time for reflection or reading or sustained prayer. We always must respond to the urgent--the skinned knee, the hungry belly, the dirty bum. A moment of calm and we decide to de-clutter a desk, send an email, call the doctor, get a head start at dinner (all at the same time!). By the time the children are in bed, we feel like falling into bed ourselves but resist for time with our spouse, a favorite show, an entertaining book, our latest hobby. Picking up the stuff of real meat is rarely likely. Susan Wise Bauer's words are helpful but they are not new. The need for mothers to continue in self-education is of vital importance, evidenced even in the 1892 journal edited by the educator Charlotte Mason entitled "Mother Culture":

"There is no sadder sight in life than a mother, who has so used herself up in her children's childhood, that she has nothing to give them in their youth...is there not some need for "mother culture"? But how is the state of things to be altered? So many mothers say, "I simply have no time for myself!" "I never read a book!" Or else, "I don't think it is right to think of myself!" They not only starve their minds, but they do it deliberately, and with a sense of self-sacrifice which seems to supply ample justification... Each mother must settle this for herself. She must weigh things in the balance. She must see which is the most important--the time spent in luxuriously gloating over the charms of her fascinating baby, or what she may do with that time to keep herself "growing" for the sake of that baby "some day," when it will want her even more than it does now...The wisest woman I ever knew--the best wife, the best mother, the best mistress, the best friend--told me once, when I asked her how, with her weak health and many calls upon her time, she managed to read so much, "I always keep three books going--a stiff book, a moderately easy book, and a novel, and I always take up the one I feel fit for!" That is the secret; always have something "going" to grow by."

And so, I've been waking up "at 5 o'clock on a fine summer morning" and have found myself in a "in a new other world." One of books and ideas, freedom and peace, reflection and truth, Word and Light.

Upon the Occasion of our 10th Anniversary

To My Love Upon the Occasion of our 10th Anniversary:

Swearing our marriage would endure down the years with fortitude for pain and faith for tears, we knew then only a hint of what love was and what our path would be. But the splendour is still upon us, high and pure...Thank you for enveloping me in your love and protection and care. There is no place I'd rather be than within the shining barrier with you and our olive shoots until His Kingdom come. Happy 10th Anniversary. I am so sorry we cannot be together today.


The Shining Barrier


This present glory, love, once-given grace,
The sum of blessing in a sure embrace,
Must not in creeping separateness decline
But be the centre of our whole design.

We know it’s love that keeps a love secure,
And only by love of love can love endure,
For self’s a killer, reckless of the cost,
And loves of lilactime unloved are lost.

We build our altar, then, to love and keep
The holy flame alight and never sleep:
This darling love shall deepen year by year,
And dearer shall we grow who are so dear.

The magic word is sharing: every stream
Of beauty, every faith and grief and dream;
Go hand in hand in gay companionship -
In sober death no sundering of the grip.

And into love all other loveliness
That we can tease from time we shall impress
Slows dawns and lilacs, traceries of the tress,
The spring and poems, stars and ancient seas.

This splendour is upon us, high and pure
As heaven: and we swear it shall endure:
Swear fortitude for pain and faith for tears
To hold our shining barrier down the years.

by the VanAukens from A Severe Mercy. The book that captured our imagination for what our love could be.

The chance to see the sunrise

The baby has been waking up very early and I can't get her to go back to sleep. And I still get up once in the night to feed her too, so I've been extra groggy on these early mornings. But on this early, early morning as I sat by the window in my favorite chair, Bible in lap, coffee in hand, baby quietly playing with her wooden stack toy at my feet, I realized I wouldn't be up right now if she didn't wake me up!

I would like to think that despite RJ being away, I would still get up for my morning devotions but the truth is I probably would be trying to steal every chance at sleep I could get, thinking that with him gone I deserved it. Isn't it funny how often during the times we most need time devoted to prayer and scripture, we often don't do it? And so, these last few days though I may grumble at being woken so early, I have realized that this quiet time has so helped me to get through my day with the proper focus.

I also have appreciated the the Office of Morning Prayer from the BCP on these early mornings. Like an old friend, it gently leads me through all that I should pray for and the scripture I need for that day. Today it was the Collect for the Renewal of Life that encouraged, challenged, and convicted me, since a renewal of energy and life was what I needed:

O God, the King eternal, whose light divides the day from the
night and turns the shadow of death into the morning: Drive
far from us all wrong desires, incline our hearts to keep your
law, and guide our feet into the way of peace; that, having
done your will with cheerfulness while it was day, we may,
when night comes, rejoice to give you thanks; through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.

As I sat in my old green chair watching the light dividing the day from the night, I prayed this prayer. Oh, that today, He will remove the wrong desires I have and my hearts inclination for my own path and give me a day of peace and cheerfulness. Even in the moment when I was looking forward to the night coming so I could go back to sleep, I was led to rejoice and give thanks.