SortaCrunchy

Barefoot and Knee-Deep in the Quotidian

It is unusal, isn't it?  To not hear from me, the girl who can stretch one thought into sentence after sentence of unnecessary explication.  Thank you so much, so very much, for the thoughtful comments and emails, checking up on in me in my silence here.

Here's the deal: My husband, bless his heart, is engulfed in studying (a better word would be cramming) for the Series 7 exam which he takes at the end of July.  There is but one computer to be accessed here at my in-laws and it lives in the same office where he is holed up studying for no less than ten hours a day.  It is not at all unusual for him to start his studies as I am getting the girls up, dressed, and fed and to end the day long after I have retired to bed.  He takes short study breaks here and there, but I am unwilling to trade time online for time with him, so my time at the keyboard is basically nonexistent. 

At first, this caused me a great deal of irritation and angst.  As day after day without email, blog reading and blog writing, and message board surfing passed, a disturbing amount of bitterness began to take root.  Thankfully the Lord caught hold of this attitude in my heart and I found it so simple and liberating to let go of expectations unfulfilled.

Indeed, God has already graciously annointed this summer, but I didn't recognize it until we had arrived here and settled into what would become our daily routines.  He had abundantly and in advace filled my book list with all kinds of works I have long been anticipating having time to read.  Among the most challenging, provoking, and powerful are Brennen Manning's Ruthless Trust (which is serving to complete upend and shockingly rework my thoughts on the experience of Christ and the unthinkable accessibility we have through Him to the kabod Yahweh) and Kathleen Norris's The Quotidian Mysteries (which has served to unlock within me an authentic, worshipful appreciation for His presence in the everyday).  (Gratitude is due to Laura and her own Quotidian Mysteries for introducing me to this short but mighty work.)

So.  We've been spending a lot of time outside, building squirrel houses a la' The Creative Family, and investigating bugs (so many bugs) and gnawing on sticks (mostly just AJ does that). 

Truth be told, I am kind of lonely.  I am without community in every sense of the word for the time being, but this involuntary fasting is starving out of me some issues that I am seeing in a new light.  Oh, things like a growing dependence on the applause of man, an unhealthy need to make a name for myself, and a shocking amount of mindlessness and disconnect for the glorious moments of day-to-day life.  Yeah, just some ugly stuff like that.

Just about out of time here, but I just have to share this short passage from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "Aurora Leigh," lines I keep going back to as a sort of daily mantra and challenge:

. . . Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God:
But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
The rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries

(Comments closed in hopes that a few extra minutes not spent here will provide a little extra time for taking off your shoes and drawing near to hear what He might be saying to you in the midst of the quotidian today . . .)

Forward with Gratitude

Ever-inspired by the gratitude for all gifts - great and small - that flows freely at Holy Experience, I must add more to my list:

8. late morning picnic in the shade of our front porch, pink and white striped beach towel spread across the cool concrete, juice and pretzels and raisins for the feasting while butterflies pursue one another amidst the late spring blooms

9. stepping out the front door, garbage bag in hand, stopped in my tracks on the way to the dumpster by a deer stopped in her tracks in the front yard.  simple, quiet, sleek elegance, and in a flash she is gone

10.  Patty Griffin's "Mary"

11.  the emergence of Daddy's Girl.  All day long, it's I can't wait to tell Daddy about . . . and the moment he walks through the door, she all but forgets the one who grew her to fruition.  After three years of intense attachment, I could not be more grateful, or more delighted.

12. opening a package that bursts with music, hand-picked and thoughtfully selected just for me by a dear friend who has known me long enough to know me, and loves me anyway.  also in the package - a book which speaks to my heart and affirms this gratitude journey.  thank you again, sweet friend.

13. Ma-ma.

14.  Camera and lens repair shops. 

15. this promise:  If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.  (James 1:5, NIV)  Oh thank You, thank You, thank You, Lord God, for your abundant, generous, vast, perfect wisdom.

More to come.

Pancakes and the Practice of Gratitude

This was not the morning I wanted to make pancakes. 

We hit the snooze button twice and each of us were a little surly about a later start to the day that we had planned.  (Me more so than he, truth be told.)  D and AJ were also up within minutes and I was left scrambling to get a few quick verses of Scripture in along with a shotgun spray of prayer.

Lord, please help me to . . .
Lord, thank You for . . .
Lord, don't let me forget . . .

Don't you hate that running late start to the day?  It's even worse on a Monday, I think.  Amidst trying to organize thoughts and lists for the day, there were phone calls to take and even more to ignore.  There are some monumental things happening in the life of my family right now, and my mind was spinning with distraction.  (I'm pretty sure the second cup of coffee might have had something to do with that, too.)

"I want PAN CAKES!  I want PAN CAKES!  I wanna HELP make PAN CAKES!"

I so don't have time for this. 

But I am trying to remember that people are more important than projects and teaching is more important than to-do, so I agreed.  Okay.  Come help me make pancakes. 

Only she didn't really want to help.  She just wanted pancakes. 

I don't think I even realized how hard I was gritting my teeth until the muscle in my jaw started to twinge.  I tried to focus on cleansing breaths while I pulled the mixing bowls down and dug for measuring cups.

I've been faithfully reading A Holy Experience.  Reading isn't really quite the word though.   Drinking in, swimming around, thoughtfully relishing . . . those are all better ways to describe experiencing Ann's writing.  She has this ongoing project - 1000 Gifts - and she's encouraged me to seek the gifts, the endless gifts, our Father is always giving in the midst of every day.

As I flipped to the pancake recipe in my trusty Better Homes checkered cookbook, I decided to focus my thoughts on the gifts of that moment:

1) I have a beautiful, happy, healthy daughter to make pancakes for.
2) What once seemed unattainable has now become commonplace - she can communicate with me through words.
3) I have a pantry and refrigerator full of food for my family.
4) I can read from a cookbook.
5) Stovetop.  Electricity.  Running water.
6) Woke up today just as yesterday and the many days before that getting to do my dream job. 

Those are just a few of the gifts that came to mind while I mixed and poured and flipped and served.

I want to make this practice of gratitude such a part of my day that it becomes an unforced habit.  I'm going to join Ann and the others in her community of gratitude by purposefully recording and celebrating these endless gifts for the Giver of all good things.

Let me know if you decide to join in, too.

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I have, in fact, started the Shampoo Free experiment.  It's going, um, surprisingly well.  More on that later.

Thinking Thoughts

(Before I commence, I must say this post's title is totally inspired by Camaschick's Thinking Things.  If I had thought of it first, I would have totally opted for that as a blog title rather than SortaCrunchy . . .)

I don't watch the news much anymore.  I find the news to be difficult for us sensitive types who are prone to bawl their eyes out in the shower over a fifteen-second news story detailing some horrific, devastating act perpetrated against an innocent child garishly sandwiched between "Which Pump Has The Cheapest Gas Prices in Town?" and "What YOU Need to Know Before You Shop for Your Summer Wardrobe."

What very, very little news I am watching these days has to do with, of course, politics.  I've never been and probably never will be much of a political activist.  I find politics on the whole to be confusing, perplexing, and disappointing.  As a theologically conservative Christian, it becomes even more difficult to sort through what the talking heads report as Truth while those who are supposed to be preaching what I know to be Truth tread ever further past that long-ago crossed boundary line that separates Here Is What I Propose You Consider from Here is How You, Bible-Believing Christian, Must Think/Act/Speak/Vote.

I am extremely intrigued by this book my friend Mandy recently reviewed.  The description alone speaks to me.  It has moved to the very top of my "next to read" list.

In the meantime, yesterday my dear friend/writing partner/all-around-mind-twin Laura wrote a brilliant essay that puts eloquent and passionate words to some thoughts I've been chewing on for a long time.  I do hope you'll take a few minutes to go read it.  I wonder how many feel the same way?  And yes, I did ask before I linked because I am aware that linking to this will possibly open her up to some criticisms from those who agree with us on most things, but do not agree with us on this thing.

(And to be sure, Laura is not all about seriousness.  Check her toothpaste post as evidence of that!)

Thoughts?

Inspiration

I started reading Sara's blog at Walk Slowly, Live Wildly long before Jen ever introduced me to The Story of Stuff.  Sara is definitely my real-life inspiration in my own battle against stuff.  I mean, check out her post from last summer as they were about to load up the RV to go on their Live Lightly Tour.  I hadn't discovered her yet when she first made the compact . . . and I am not sure if I am brave enough to take up the challenge myself.  Or maybe I am? 

Whether or not I am as brave as she is, I can definitely identify with her reflections on life after swearing off stuff.    

Get anyone else to thinking?

that sinful woman

All week, I haven't been able to stop thinking about her.  Her heart must have been racing, just nearly about to pound out of her chest.  I wonder if her hands were trembling, too, as she gripped the little alabaster jar she brought with her.  Somehow, she had heard He was going to be there.  I wonder if her skin felt singed by the burning, condemning stares of the men gathered at the table.

But there He was.  And in His eyes, there was no condemnation to be found.

Last Sunday's Bible study lesson recounted the story from Luke 7 of Jesus being anointed by a "sinful woman."  Though the Apostle Luke doesn't specify what her many sins were, most commentaries acknowledge her as a prostitute.  Under the social customs of the day, she would have been permitted entrance to the banquet so that she might glean a few of the leftovers from the table.  Clutching the bottle of perfume, she approached the table with no desire to receive anything.  She was simply and mightily compelled to display her love, gratitude, and devotion for this Man.

And so she sat at His feet.  And wept.  Her tears splashed on His skin and trickled into tiny rivulets in the dust that clung to the sun-darkened skin of the Most High.  And I wonder if that was part of her plan.  I wonder if she bit her tongue in an effort to fight back the tears in an attempt to preserve at least some of her dignity, surrounded though she was by a gathering of righteous men who shrank back from her presence.  Or perhaps she made no effort to stop the tears . . . sitting at the feet of the One who forgives, overcome with wonder that she would even be allowed to touch Him . . . maybe she couldn't have stopped the tears even if she had wanted to.

I don't know why I can't get her out of my mind.  I keep thinking of her undaunted devotion.  It couldn't have been easy to approach that table.  Maybe that's what it is that I can't seem to shake.  Her willingness to anoint Him with her humility, her disregard for being humiliated. 

She challenges me.

When was the last time I was risky in my devotion to my Savior and Lord?  I find myself sinking further into a comfort zone where I allow myself to be exposed just enough . . . but quickly re-clothe when it gets uncomfortable.  Lately, my words of praise feel rote and mechanical.  My time in the word is cursory and superficial at best (when I even make time for it).  The truth is I make more time for Matt Lauer than I make for the Lord Jesus on a day-to-day basis. 

That sinful woman - she cried forth with gratitude and wiped His feet with her hair.  What is this sinful woman compelled to do?

"Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - for she has loved much.  But he who has been forgiven little loves little." Luke 7:47 NIV

More on the stand against Stuff

I haven't quite had time to talk more on my continuing struggles with Stuff. 

(I did nearly finish the girls' spring/summer clothes shopping with one quick trip to a resale shop and want to talk more on that - eventually.) 

But this is hard, ya'll.  Well, parts of it are easy.  It's easy to sit here at my computer and be inspired and motivated and confident that I don't need or want Stuff as much as I think I do.  But outside the walls of this house, the seductive lure of Stuff greets me at every turn.  Bright, shiny New Stuff winks at me from the aisles of Target.  Unsolicited catalogs tumble from the stack of mail and coyly suggest that I'm not quite as satiated as I thought I was with the Stuff I already have, even as the same stack of mail turns up credit card bills that speak to me of unrestrained transgressions (some long past, some shamefully present) committed in the name of Stuff.

Missy emailed this to me - a sobering reflection on what it means to be impoverished which questions who on this planet is truly poor.  Read and think on it.  I know I am still digesting the message: Crying for My Poverty.

He Speaks to me . . . about STUFF

Let it not ever be said that the voice of God is always hard to hear. Sometimes, I gotta get still and quiet to hear Him. And sometimes, He pulls up a chair next to mine, turns my eyes to meet His, and says, "Listen to Me."

In the past few weeks, I have been bombarded with subtle hints that He wants me to deal with my love of stuff. It started out simply enough with my sweet friend Jen (from The Things you Didn't Do) encouraging us to watch The Story of Stuff. She created a poweful and challenging list of ways she is responding to the message of the Story of Stuff movie, and I kept thinking, "Okay, okay . . . I know I have a problem with stuff. I can stop anytime though. Really."

The truth is I didn't wanna talk about my problem with stuff. Because I, um, love stuff. I can package it however I want . . .

(but AJ needs these new cloth diapers! just doin' my part to save the earth! D needs this sweet stuffed puppy dog! she's still suffering from displacement angst! I need new boots since my feet have expanded a whole size in the past three years and my beloved black dress boots have proven to be unwearable and what's a girl to do without a trusty pair of darling black boots?! 'Cause I get all dressed up to go to the library a lot these days!)

. . . but at the heart of it all is the fact that I just love stuff.

And I read Jeana's (Days to Come) But I WANT That, and I knew He wasn't going to leave me alone about this.

And then AJ woke up at 5:30 this morning and after she agreed with me that 5:30 is far too early to start the day and drifted back to sleep, I found myself wide awake and hankering for a good devotional. So I looked up one of my favorites - My Utmost for His Highest.

This would be when God pulled up a chair next to me.

"A warning which needs to be repeated is that 'the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches,' and the lust for other things, will choke out the life of God in us (Matthew 13:22)."

Oh, and it gets better from there. Go read it yourself, if you're feeling brave. And if devotionals aren't your thing, take twenty minutes from your day to go watch The Story of Stuff. I did. It's very much worth the investment of your time.

So get ready 'cause Mama's been convicted, so you've not heard the last of my battle with stuff. Oh no, gentle readers - it's just beginning!

But first, I have to say that at this moment, precisely three years ago on this lovely January day, I went into labor with my sweet D. And you know I'm gonna have to write about that.

Labels: faith, general chatter, stuff

Elusive

Laurie Berkner duets with Tom Chapin in a song called "The Happiest Song I Know," and this fun ditty is on the Most Requested list from DJ Jazzy Dacey. The lyrics are an ode to all things happy ("happy as a newborn pup," for example) and one phrase caught my ear as we drove home and I hummed along . . .

The way you shout when school is out

. . . and for a second I thought back to the school days of my childhood, waiting and watching and sighing as the second hand ticked off those last minutes of captivity. I remember that sweet anticipation of the freedom to be relished on the other side of that school bell's ring. I remember the day I counted off the years ahead of me on my fingers and discovered it was to be 1995 when at last I would be relinquished from the bondage of my school years.

My college years flew by in a blur of classes and papers and meetings and tests and dates and functions, and yet always I was looking ahead, X'ing off the days on the calendar in my mind as I hurtled toward graduation. For surely after I was finally, finally done with school, surely that was when I would really be free, right?

And then I turned around and I was married and teaching and once again counting down the days until the school year ended, this time from the other side of the teacher's desk. I was teaching so The Coach could finish his Masters work, and after that? Freedom from teaching! Freedom to start a family.

And then I had a babe in arms and found myself a far cry from free. Convinced that successful parenting was built on solid scheduling, I found it difficult to leave the house for fear of upsetting the delicate equilibrium of naps and nursing. When opportunities knocked, I would sigh and say, "I can't . . . I have a baby" as I wistfully closed the door.

And that's where I find myself again. Times two. As we prepare for D's Big Three and as AJ inches ever closer to five months, my frustration levels rise in the face of so very little freedom. Jealousy wells up in me as I drive past co-eds jogging up and down the hills of our town. I used to jog . . . before I had babies. I thumb through old Bible study workbooks and look longingly on the notes I scribbled on the pages when I had nothing but time to share with the Lord.

And even as I write this, I realize it all smacks of undeniable selfishness.

And I gaze down into AJ's smiling face and I crack up at D's antics and I know I am deeply, unspeakably blessed. So why I am not content? How can I create freedom for myself when there appears to be none? When will I luxuriate in the freedom that is most certainly mine? And if I do discover newfound pockets of freedom, what then? Will I spend it on myself or do something that might just have an impact on eternity?

These are things I think about as I drive and think and whisper Laurie Berkner lyrics to myself on the way home.

Labels: faith, mothering

Obama Insight

It's been quiet here, but only because things are not quiet offline. We've been weathering tummy bugs and teething woes and those two things have been more than enough to keep my hands too busy to type.

I did come across something at Christianity Today I wanted to share. I hear there are some emails flying around (again) about Barak Obama practicing Islam. If you have received such an email, or even if you haven't, I encourage you to check out this article for a Q&A with Senator Obama. It's a quick read and highly informative!

Christianity Today Q&A with Barak Obama

Labels: faith, general chatter, politics