Garden

Spring is upon us!

We made it through the winter, as we always do, and have been rewarded with the life-giving sunshine and promise of hope. This is the time of year I get itching to play in the dirt, buy bright colored flowers, and spend time sitting in the sun with a good book. I can't wait to weed out the garden beds and transform them from dull, dead branches to splotches of loveliness. And yet...I know my energy and desire to work will wear out. I know that no matter how determined I am, I will lose the weed battle at some point, or some section of garden.

And that's okay.

I feel like my garden is a reflection of me and, really, all of us. Some portions are pretty, and ready to be shown off, but most of it has a lot of work to be done.

Take this bleeding heart for example. Zoom in enough, and all you see is the stunning creation of the plant. What you don't see are the weeds surrounding it, the peeling concrete steps to the right of it, or the down spout behind it.

I know I have parts of my life that look presentable, but there is more left unseen. I'm thankful that I have a gardener- no, not just A gardener, the MASTER gardener, who is constantly and consistently working on me to mold me into the creation He envisions. I have a gardener who will not get discouraged by all the work that needs to be done, or weary because I'm not performing to the level He desires to see. I have a gardener who will never give up on me.

Oh, what a joy He brings.

Dinner at a Glance

A couple weeks ago, after many, many complaints about what was for dinner, I decided to make the boys decide what was on the menu. I gave them each a day to figure out what we were eating. This helps them be a little more aware of what it takes to pre-plan dinner, and how it feels if someone doesn't like your choice.

The first week went smoothly. I asked them in the morning, and they each came up with great ideas. The next week, they had a harder time thinking of another choice, and we were left scrambling at the last minute to come up with dinner.

I had seen dry erase boards on pinterest and thought that would be a great way to keep us reminded who's turn it was to pick dinner, and what that dinner was.

From reading blogs and pins, making a memo board seemed simple enough. All you need is a frame with glass (have lots of those thanks to my earring organizers), pretty paper, and a dry erase marker. Most blogs used lovely scrapbooking paper. I don't scrapbook. All we had was plain old printer paper- not very appealing.

I did however have leftover ribbon (from when I was making barrette holders).

Using 7 strips of ribbon, I taped them (somewhat evenly spaced) to my boring printer paper, and wrote with permanent marker the days of the week. A major scrubbing of my Goodwill $.99 frame glass, and, ta-da, dry erase board.

The frame could be painted, and the backing could be much, much prettier, but for today, it works.

Who's turn to choose is on the right.

Days of the week and dinner choice on the left.

Knitting

Disclaimer: I know I'm a dork. Keep that in mind as you read this post.


I've been knitting a lot lately. Like the "calluses on the tips of the fingers, hands cracked and dry but can't use lotion because it gets in the way of knitting" type of a lot. But what can I say, I love it! No matter how long or how much I knit, I'm always amazed at the end result. Think about it. Wrapping a piece of string around two sticks creates something wearable. Then wrap that same piece of string in a different direction to get a completely different look. This is what I mean:

Take these yarn skeins

Wrap it around these

And get this

Or how 'bout this mess of yarn

Add these again

Plus this cable needle

And get this

Seriously, how cool is that?

But not as cool as these three little models:

Christmas Nail

Ahh, tis the season for decorating! I don't tend to decorate for Fall, Halloween, or Valentines Day, but Christmas is a different matter. Christmas is a season to celebrate.

Tonight we put up our tree and got out the ornaments. It's fun to spend some time reflecting on the memories this box of wacky little knick knacks brings. We have a Star Wars Naboo fighter jet, snowmen, rock-climbing Santa, and a few baby's first Christmas'. But the most significant ornament is one we hang towards the back of the tree, in a spot less pronounced. It is our Christmas Nail, and it reminds us WHY we celebrate Christmas.

The story of the Christmas Nail:

"Years ago, in a Colorado town, snow began to fall on a young couple contemplating the approaching Christmas season. As their thoughts meandered from the stable manger to the shopping mall, they knew that their meager wages would prevent them from purchasing costly Christmas gifts. Therefore, they set out to make their own that year.

Later that month, while the young man was in a local hardware store, he spotted a very large nail. It was nearly ten inches long and very heavy. Seeing such a nail, his thoughts were drawn to the crucifixion of Christ. How large those nails much have been- how wicked their purpose. As he wandered around the store, he could not keep the sobering thoughts of that nail from his mind. He decided to buy one of the nails and show it to his wife.

When she saw it, her response was exactly the same.

'Wasn't he born to die?' they asked each other. What better time than at his birth, to recall His reason for coming and the gift He would give.

Those thoughts stayed with them the rest of the evening. Without Christ's death and resurrection, there would be no celebration of Christmas as we know it today. No one would recall the intricate details accompanying the birth of just one more good person. No starry night in Bethlehem would mean anything today if it were not for the end of the story.

Then it struck them- without question or hesitation, this nail would be an ornament- hung on the tree itself. It was weighty and would pull down any normal branch. Therefore it had to be hung deep inside the tree near the trunk. They worried that such placement would not allow it to be seen as all ornaments are intended.

Slowly, a powerful realization washed over both of them. This ornament, like the Savior himself, would not be like any other. It would be obscured, just as Jesus had been obscured among the trappings of the stable and it's animals.

This ornament would become a private devotion for those who hung it. It would serve as a silent reminder each time they looked at their tree, that it was a tree upon which Christ redeemed the world."

Life Water

If life is like a box of chocolates, than Jesus is like a Brita filter...

I learn so much about God from trying to explain Him to my kids. One day, while talking to Jonas about the significance and importance of Jesus, this is what came out:

Let's say you're on a hike and (if you're like me), you forget a water bottle. You see a lovely, clear stream. The water looks clean. You want to take a drink, but we both know what that means. If you drink that water, it will make you sick. First, you must filter out all the unseen bacteria. Only then will it become drinkable and life sustaining.

We are like stream water. We make look like we have it all together on the outside, but inside we are being eaten up by sin. It is only through the filter and sacrifice of Jesus that we become clean, useful, and healthy.

Beauty

Over the course of the last month or so, I've been reading a book called Captivating: Unveiling the Mysteries of a Woman's Soul by John and Stasi Eldredge. Yesterday, I finished a chapter in beauty. Oh, such a hard chapter for me to grab hold of. I see the beauty in every other woman, but struggle to find what is beautiful about me. But...the concept might be starting to sink in. I know there are more beautiful, stunning, drop what your doing women out there. But that's not what God sees.

"Every woman has a beauty to unveil.
Every woman.
Because she bears the image of God."

Wow! Really?

After letting that statement sink in for a bit, here are some thoughts I came up with:

As a mother, I look at my boys, and my heart wraps around them. There are no other boys who are as handsome, talented, witty, cute, and crazy as mine. I see them through a parent's eyes. Other children are great, but when it boils down to it, mine are the best.

God sees us with his Daddy eyes. He sees our beauty even when we don't. He says, "You know that sunset over there? The one everyone had to stop their cars to get out and admire? Yeah, it was pretty nice, but it doesn't compare in beauty to you, my daughter." He groups us as a whole to say nothing in creation is as beautiful as His precious daughters.

Our beauty does not come from what the world sees as beautiful. It comes because GOD says we're beautiful. Why is that such a hard concept to accept? Why can't we, as women, recognize and feel God's heart wrapped around us? I think we are too busy comparing ourselves to one another which, in effect, tears each of us down. HE LOVES US AND THINKS WE'RE BEAUTIFUL!!!

If we are looking to the world for our worth we will always be bitterly disappointed.

Furniture Woes

I have the perfect desk. I bought it at a garage sale for only $5!!!

I was able to sand it down, paint it and put beautiful new glass knobs on.

It's stayed at my mom's for the past few years, but she's wanting to trade it for another desk I have. I can't let it leave the family.

I have no room for it, or purpose either. I had always had the dream of being a Writer, but have now truly given up that route. I just don't see "writing" in my future. But I love this desk. I love the lines, the drawers, everything about it.

But where to put it? We have a 1,400 sq ft house that's already packed to the max with all the necessities to support a 5 member family, and 15 gazillion pets. As I see it, I have two options:

A) Make our house bigger (not likely)

or

B) Wait for boys to move out

If I'm going with option B, I'd really like Isaac's room. It has beachy white wood planks on the walls and ceiling. He also has a view of the water (in the winter-time when all the tree leaves have fallen). Most likely this room will have the least amount of pets residing in it from now until....then.

Yes, I think his room will work. I can place the white desk in the white wood walled room, with the original 1935 pine floor, and sit looking at the water. I'll have my Little Red computer with me (actually by then Little Red will sadly be long gone). (And yes, you did catch that. We name our computers. I have Little Red and the "house" laptop is Big Blue. Our kids were so fortunate to not be named Blue Eyes, Brown Eyes...)

What will I be doing at my desk? Not quite sure, but it will be pretty.

I'll even let Mark have one of the other boys' rooms so he can play guitar. (I know, so generous of me.)

There we will be in 15 years. Me pretending to write, Mark strumming on his guitar or bass. Sounds like a plan to me.

In case you're wondering, this is the desk my mom is trading for.

She loved the green glass knobs and all the drawers.