a friend asked how i felt about the need for our son to seek long-term help outside the family:  was i bitter?  angry?  disappointed that all the years of work have still ended up in this place?  

i thought about it for awhile.  i've known other families in similar situations, watched them ache with grief and disbelief and nurture their humiliation into resentment.   perhaps christian families are more prone to such feelings as most of us operate under the unspoken belief that if we do the right things we will get the right result.   finding that your best intentions, hard work, prayer and sacrifice have still led you to the psychiatric ward, the sheriff in your driveway and a social worker can be devastating.  after all i've given, after all i've done....this is what i get?

i turned my friend's question over in my head, peeked around inside my heart, feeling in the tender places for anger or bitterness....but no,  that is not what i found there.  amazingly - and completely to my surprise -  i discovered that God had been there before me, and He had filled every corner with wells of love and compassion.  

 so often we find ourselves standing tall on a mountain of ideas and principles;  strong and steady, we are ready to weather the storm.   but anyone can tell you that when the winds howl, the highest point is also the most vulnerable.   it's said that when a tornado comes, you should "go lower";  find the lowest, flattest place you can and stay there until the storm passes by.   

somewhere along our journey, God gradually led us down off our little hilltops labeled "rescuer", "good parent", "success", "miracle-worker", and taught us to lie down flat on the ground, close to the dirt from which we come.  from that position, words like "rest", "wait", "trust" and "be still" have powerful meaning.

today, there is no scent of pre-heaven victory in the air;  all we can smell is the earth in our nostrils, elemental and too familiar.   but we find that down here, lower than the wind, is where we find the fragrance of Christ: service and love in this life, hoping for a beautiful tomorrow where all is repaid, all is restored.

this is what we are learning:  down here, success is not measured the same as it is on the hilltop.  in this place, love is the only measuring stick and the only real command.  over and over i find the Lord telling me to just love...and let Him stand up and face the tornado. 

it keeps things pretty simple.  

 

thank you for all your prayers and emails. several times one of your emails or comments have come exactly when i needed it, filled with exactly what i needed to hear. the Lord has used each of you to strengthen me during this time.  thank you for being His willing servants.

thank you for your prayers and support...thank you for caring...it means so much.

our son is in the hospital and will be undergoing evaluations this week.  i would so appreciate your continued prayers for wisdom and discernment.  we will be making decisions about his immediate future.  this is a very difficult time for us and i am so thankful to know that the Lord has given us the loving support of His body all over the world.  

resting in His plan,

 tonia

 

 

if you have a moment, i would cherish your prayers for my family today.   praise be to God, i am finding that His peace reaches into the darkest times and brings such comfort.   friends, He IS near.

 

"Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me. 

O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forever."  Ps. 131:2, 3 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"My sense is that plain churchgoing is one of the most difficult things for Christians to do these days--especially for young, inexperienced new converts like your son. The early church was totally counterculture, and so there was almost always a sense of exhilaration, of definition that created an alert Christian mindset of both danger and grace. Many third-world churches still have that. But the contemporary church (at least in North America) is doing its level best to accomodate itself to the culture. Deep within, beneath the secularizing veneer, it's still the church, but the "bite" has gone. "Church" seems neither daring nor dangerous. I can understand your son's sense of letdown.  [...]

The fact is that it takes a mature Christian these days to make it in church. You have a forty-year head start on your son. Those years of search and pain, losing your life and then finding it, prepared you to enter the church as one sinner among others, grateful for every scrap of grace and salvation that came your way in Word and Sacrament. Anders still thinks it ought to be some kind of utopian society of nice people where holiness is some kind of "high."

Give him a few years. At some point he will realize that he can't be his own preacher and priest, and that God hides His glory in the oddest places - in a carpenter's shop, a fishing boat, a washbasin, a supper table, yes, even in a church."

Eugene Peterson    The Wisdom of Each Other   (a gift from Julana, months ago...)

after months and months of searching and a lot of heart-work,  i've come to believe that going to church is mainly about showing up to love the body of Christ:  wherever we find ourselves, it's our job to search out the body and love them.   period.  Peterson suggests finding the  "smallest and nearest church" and digging in.  

 

ann's post says it so much more beautifully than i could.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Everyone needs a list of 'Things to be Done Today' or 'Things to be Done before the End of the Month', or 'Things to be Finished before Summer.'  There are shopping lists, lists of improvements to make in the house, lists to spur one on to more efficient living...What could be a better outlet for a sketching talent than decorating such lists with artistic colorful or amusing sketches?  Lists that are decorated with black and white sketches...come alive for you, and help to spur you on to do what is listed - to say nothing of becoming a decoration for your kitchen or office bulletin board."                                  Edith Schaeffer

susan's post this morning reminded me of how many of the loveliest things in our lives are really just a matter of choices:  the choice to see something ordinary as beautiful, the choice to make something ordinary beautiful.

 

ann has been showcasing her lovely homemaking journals lately.  i have a similar book i keep - which i will try to share later - but it is not for every day.  instead, i use a hardbound sketch book for my daily to-do lists.  all kept together in a pretty black book, they serve as both a visual record of what i am doing with my days and motivation to get things done.    i happen to be a highly visual person, so the little decorated lists fill my need for creativity and beauty.  it even inspires me to keep my desk clean, just so i can walk into the room and see my book spread open on the table, ready to guide the day. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

" I have visited Calcutta, India, a place of death, and irremediable human problems. The nuns of Mother Teresa's order serve perhaps the poorest, most miserable people on the planet:  half-dead bodies whom they pick up on the streets of Calcutta.  The world stands in awe at the sisters' dedication and the results of their ministry, but something about these nuns impresses me even more:  their serenity.  If I tackled such a mammoth, hopeless project, I would likely be scurrying about, faxing press releases to donors, begging for more resources, gulping tranquilizers, searching for ways to cope with the mounting despair. 

Not these nuns."     _{~Philip Yancey}

i wonder if the nuns of calcutta have grasped, at their core, something that our western, earnestly scientific minds have forgotten:  life is not a series of problems to be solved but rather an ongoing work of artistry and imagination continually choreographed by the Creator.

Dorothy Sayers, in her insightful Christian Letters to a Post-Christian World, explains the creative power in this way:

"... the words "problem" and "solution," as commonly used, belong to the analytic approach to phenomena, and not to the creative. Though it has become a commonplace of platform rhetoric that we can "solve our problems" only by dealing with them "in a creative way," those phrases betray, either that the speaker has repeated a popular cliche without bothering to think what it means, or that he is quite ignorant of the nature of creativeness. [...] it should be fairly clear that the creator does not set out from a set of data, and proceed, like a crossword solver or a student of elementary algebra, to deduce from them a result which shall be final, predictable, complete and the only one possible."

walk through the christian bookstore or trot through the blogosphere and you see the truth of this everywhere: "God's way for marriage," "God's way for kids," "God's way for finances," "God's way for the middle manager..."  as if all we must do is insert our problem (and $24.95) and out comes the prepackaged solution. 

in that way, parents of kids like my own have an advantage.  talk to one of us long enough and we will assure you "there is no "answer" for these kids."    we have had to learn - through much heartache -  to let go of the product and trust in the imagination of the Creator to accomplish His vision. 

a work of art is far more than the sum of paintbrush and palette or pen and paper; it is a series of hidden connections, of unspoken and, sometimes, unknown truths that lie in the artist's mind and spirit until they are drawn forth by the act of creation.   

it seems to me this is what the nuns of Calcutta have learned through patient service.  they are not trying to solve the problem of dying people, but rather daily participate with the Artist who is conducting His work with unimaginable complexity and vitality, with knowledge and understanding hidden deep within Himself.  there is no rush nor fuss, no quotas to meet, nor checklists to scrutinize because the nuns have submitted to the truth that each of us is  God's workmanship and the end result is His to orchestrate.   from this they have earned the deep serenity that marks their work. 

to quote Dorothy Sayers again:

"Perhaps the first thing that he can learn from the artist is that the only way of "mastering" one's material is to abandon the whole concept of mastery and to co-operate with it in love: whosoever will be a lord of life, let him be its servant. [...]

The distinction between the artist and the man who is not an artist thus lies in the fact that the artist is living in the "way of grace," so far as his vocation is concerned." 

it can be a terrifying thing to let go of production, to leave our problems unresolved and instead patiently kneel under the quiet, hidden instruction of the Artist, but i believe it truly is the way of grace,

and i longed to be marked by it.

 

Give us such grace, dear Lord, to see our children, our husbands, our families, our churches as Your workmanship and serve with trust and love.    

it's not easily explained, because things aren't going well - they're really not - and the reality of that is like the sun in your eyes...you squint and duck and move around, shield your face with your free hand... but mostly, the unrelenting glare makes you want to go inside, shut all the doors and sit in the dark.

and yet, just as unrelenting, are the gifts;

the surprising beauties interspersed throughout the days - these tiny things i record here and in my journals.  perhaps the answer to the question i always ask myself - why do i keep blogging? - lies here in this post: it is my visual testimony that God is here and He is not silent. 

if nothing else, i am leaving a trail of the

little joys whispering of His love...

the inexplicable comfort and profound blessing....

the deep peace in the center of every storm.

 

 

scenes from the last week...my birthday and our anniversary...a cup that overflows:

 

17 years together and only just beginning to know how lucky i am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the antique chinese opera trunk he bought me (the opera company would put it on the back of their travelling carts and store their costumes inside.  it's so gorgeous.)

 

a nephew in a trunk....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and a son...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my beautiful niece...

and handmade gifts from my sister... 

mounds of food and a whole afternoon to enjoy my family...

 

 

 

(click to see bigger, and laugh along with me....)
 

turning 37 and still laughing...

such gifts.

 

"Be thankful for the smallest blessing, and you will receive greater.  Value the least gifts no less than the greatest, and simplegraces as especial favors.  If you remember the dignity of the Giver, no gift will seem small or mean, for nothing can be valueless that is given by the Most High God."   ~ Thomas a Kempis 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

72 duck eggs, to be exact.

and 4 dozen more in the fridge.

we've been eating a lot of frittatas, but not even three teenage stomachs can keep up with this abundance.

we decided to try freezing them:

crack the eggs into a bowl and whip them.

pour into a clean, airtight container and label.  (we did freezer bags in packages of 6, 4, 2 and single eggs.)  

when ready to use, defrost in the fridge.  

i am hoping these will get us through the leaner egg months over the winter.   God bless those ducks, i haven't had to buy eggs in over 2 years.            

from Andree Seu in World Magazine, 2007:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"And yet the face does pour forth speech.  I remember the first time I saw Marge Magnuson's face.  I was 23 and hippie-grungy and plopped on her doorstep; some unknown vagabond accompanying her "adopted son."  She opened the door and looked at me - and beamed.  That was my introduction to Christianity. [...] 

I have started asking God for a face like that, a face like the visages of the 24 elders encircling the throne...faces gleaming white because they always look upon the Lamb at the center." 

"When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good...Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wisest thoughts."  

_{~one of the desert fathers}

 

 

farmer's market perfection. 

they had me as soon as i saw that little snip of brown twine.

lie fallow.

say no to swirling thoughts and the rush of energy that precedes "i have to do ____!" 

 

it's okay to restrict,

to go more slowly,

to turn off the mental noise.

learn to enjoy solitude. 

 

be grateful for things large and small.

 

(buried underneath a mile of blackberries we cleared this weekend was a beautiful bed of strawberries.)

emphasize a joyful life.

 

 "I praise You for the life that stirs within me:

I praise You for the bright and beautiful world into which I go:

I praise You for the earth and sea and sky, for scudding cloud and singing bird:"  

_{~John Baillie}

(words in bold taken from "Suggestions for Simple Living" ) 

recipe for yet another sick day...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

eating: 

i know it's hot in some corners of the world, but this is a wonderful meal for those feeling under the weather:

Whole Grain Bread  (this is a keeper!  uses leftover grains.)

Best Vegetable Soup

and watching:

  The Life of Birds 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(free for Netflix users!)
 

 
the sun's arrived for the weekend, along with my daughter's 13th bday....dear girl, how can you do this to me?  stay little forever, please!...

so i'll leave the week behind with a little silliness.

breaking the no-tag rule just for andrea:

 

 

 

 

Six Quirky Things about You
Here are the rules:

* Link the person who tagged you.
* Mention the rules in your blog.
* Tell about six unspectacular quirks of yours.
* Tag a new set of six following bloggers by linking them 

1.   like andrea, i have to have socks on at night, but i have to fall asleep rubbing my feet together.

2.  speaking of feet...keep yours off me at all times.  gross.  

3.  i hate bananas.  except in banana bread - which i love.  not banana cake.  that's gross too.  and bananas in smoothies are good.  but that's all.

4.  i am not ticklish.  and don't try,  i will not be amused.  (especially not my feet... i will hit you.)

5.   seriously.  i don't want to play baseball/badminton/tennis/volleyball, etc.    i really do have much more fun watching you play it.

6.  i hate water activities.   no, i don't find boat rides restful or exhilarating.**  i find them life-threatening and wet.  

more reasons to not like water:  bathing suits.  fish that you can't see.  sharks.  cold.  for my fellow glasses-wearers:  blindness.  inability to breathe.  possibility that i might die.  (did i mention that already?) 

 

**except canoe rides with you, honey.  i love those.   

 

okay, all six of you readers.  you are tagged.  answer in the comments if you want.  please tell me some of you are as weird as i am.
 

 

 "Have the best of everything," coos an ad for one domesticity magazine.  "Scatter seeds with your own hands.  Pick perfect cherries.  Take a nap in an orchard.  Lift corn from the earth.  Curl up with a kitty.  Step into your garden.  Make a wreath of ginger cookies.  Belly flop on the snow.  Send in the postpaid card...."  The message is clear:  keeping house is not about mastering a set of complex and worthwhile skills for the sake of doing a good job at something that needs to be done.  It is about being perfect without even trying.  Just subscribe to this magazine, and your house - your life - will be perfect.       ~ Keeping House  - Margaret kim Peterson

 

i did it.  i bought the magazine, the promise, the ideal:  hook, line, sinker.   i didn't realize it until i'd actually moved to the country and found myself exhausted and guilt-ridden, but i'd set an expectation for our new life that no superwoman could touch. 

we all do that sometimes, don't we?

every once in awhile i like to take a station break on this blog and remind myself and others:  this little spot is a repository for ideas, dreams, and beautiful things.  the mud and grime, the irritability, the down days, the lack of motivation happen largely off screen. 

but trust me, they happen.  a lot.

just keeping it real.