Defined

daily; day after day after day
chaotic; completely confused or disordered
bliss; supreme happiness; utter joy or contentment

chaos crew

chaos crew

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Tiny Seeds

Almost a year ago we purchased an aloe plant at the garden center.  At the checkout there were little bags full of almond shaped red seeds. Wheat grass.  The kids insisted, so I splurged the extra $1.99 and tucked the baggy in my purse. 

It is sad, but they nestled in the depths of my purse for months.  Seasons changed and I emptied the contents of my brightly colored purse into one more suited for fall.  I was surprised to find the lost treasure amid the receipts and gum wrappers.  It was well past planting season, time to snuggle in for winter, so I tucked them away again, in the kitchen drawer.  We'd plant them in the spring.

My twice forgotten seeds emerged again last week.  Searching for a battery I encountered their ziplock housing.  Perfect timing, I was itching for a quick project.  Something to occupy a rainy April afternoon.  There were empty glass jars near the sink, I had the inkling I would need the for some random project....now they had a purpose.  I gathered the chaos crew and we discussed the fundamentals of growth.  Sun, water, soil, and air.  We hypothesized how long it would take to see a sprout, how tall the grass would grow, and what would happen if we forgot to give it water. 

The kids eagerly filled their jars with soil, grabbed handfuls of seeds and carefully pushed them into their new home.  They each took a turn adding water and marking their jars so they could brag about who had the fastest growing grass.  (in case you didn't know, EVERYTHING is a competition!  EVERYTHING).  We placed the jars in the sunlight and went off to finish schoolwork.  The jars were quickly forgotten, but it had been a nice break in a dreary day.

The next afternoon I stood at the sink rinsing veggies for dinner.  It was a sunny, bright day and I marvelled at how quickly the yard had turned from brown to green.  The rain had been just enough to change the pallette.  I then remembered the seeds.  I peeked in the jars and was astounded to see tiny sprouts had already appeared.  Just one day!  The crew was amazed at this, just a single day and new life was there.  Over the last week we have marveled at the rate at which the blades have grown, strong and green, bending a bit toward the light.  Through the sides of the glass you can see the white roots, digging in deep, stretching wide to hold the blades in tight. 

I can't ignore the similarities.  They were just little red seeds in need of some goodness.  With a little care, they sprouted into life, quickly they grew, with water and light their roots dug in deep, their arms stretched up high, reaching for the sun.  Aren't we the same.  Just little seeds in need of goodness.  With a little care and affection we grow, with a little love and guidance we blossom, we turn toward the light.  With encourament and nourishment our roots spread down deep, holding us firm.  It was only grass, a tiny insignificant seed, twice forgotten and hidden away, yet with the right combination of care, in 24 hours it was growing.  We are all created by an awesome God.  How wonderous it is to witness growth.  To nurture life.  How magnificent to fathom how our God cares for us.  How great is our responsibility to provide the nurturing so that our little ones might have strong roots, that they might reach for the light, that they might blossom.

We learned a lot from that grass.  It was an analogy to God in our lives.  Even a tiny seed can grow with proper care.  The grass has no conscience, so therefore cannot know God, but He still cares for it and provides for its needs.  Some people don't recognize God, yet He still loves them and provides for their needs.  AND, when you take the time to care for any seed properly, its roots will sink deep and its branches will spread wide.  It will eventually turn toward the light, the source of life. 

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Judas' kiss

Have you ever really considered it?  Some commentaries believe Judas was chosen, that he was a hero of sorts, that he aided in God's plan, Hollywood exemplifies this character.  Others believe that Judas was never truly a believer, and although he returned the money he was paid for his betrayal.  He never truly accepted Christ in his heart or repented fully for his wrongs.  I often wondered if he was forgiven.   I came across this passage.
Before Jesus died, he made a prediction about Judas.
Matt 26:24 :The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.” 
That doesn't sound good.
Anyone can feel bad and regret a choice.  That’s not exactly the same as trusting Christ.  So what I take from this is...The cross was necessary because of our sin.  The betrayal was key to that story.  We all betray God, we are human, we make daily mistakes.  The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ opened a door to salvation for every sinner.  BUT, there is a password.  Acceptance.  To be washed clean we must accept Him, welcome Him, love Him.  In this He will love us despite of us.  Despite of our lies, mistakes, awkwardness.  Despite of our hesitation and denials.  If we truly love Him and confess our sins, we can experience the grace and mercy of salvation.  He wants us all.  No one is too far, too gone, too wrong to be covered by his grace.  Even Judas had a chance. 

The song below sparked my inquiry.  It took my breath away considering how God must feel each time we deny and betray Him.  I know how it feels when my own children disrespect me.  And oh how much more does He love me than I love them!  To be loved in spite of me.  Reminds me to love others that way.  And be watchful of my heart, my words and my actions.  He loved Judas despite his actions, but did Judas truly love Him back?  The choice is there for each of us. 

I hope you will listen to the song from the link below.

Sidewalk Prophets: You Love Me Anyway

The question was raised
As my conscience fell
A silly, little lie
It didn't mean much
But it lingers still
In the corners of my mind

Still you call me to walk
On the edge of this world
To spread my dreams and fly
But the future's so far
My heart is so frail
I think I'd rather stay inside

But You love me anyway
It's like nothing in life that I've ever known
Yes, You love me anyway
Oh Lord, how You love me
How You love me

It took more than my strength
To simply be still
To seek but never find
All the reasons we change
The reasons I doubt
And why do loved ones have to die?

But You love me anyway

It's like nothing in life that I've ever known
Yes, You love me anyway
Oh Lord, how You love me

I am the thorn in Your crown
But You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow
But You love me anyway
I am the nail in Your wrist
But You love me anyway
I am Judas' kissBut You love me anyway
See now, I am the man who yelled out from the crowd
For Your blood to be spilled on this earth shaking ground
Yes then, I turned away with this smile on my face
With this sin in my heart tried to bury Your grace
And then alone in the night, I still called out for You
So ashamed of my life, my life, my life


But You love me anyway
It's like nothing in life that I've ever known
Yes, You love me anyway
Oh Lord, how You love me

Friday, February 15, 2013

Mommy's Girls

Mommy's Girl

My little eyes
are watching,
my ears are listening too.
they take in
everything that
you say and do.

my little hands
are eager to do the
things you do.
i'm hoping and i'm
dreaming i'll grow
up just like you.

so be careful how
you teach me to
do the things you
do for someday
not so far away
i'll be grown up
just like you.

Patsy Gaut


What a responsibility it is to parent.  How convicting it is, to think they can inherit our bad.  As much as I want them to stay little, to never grow up, I know they will.  This poem reminds me to be intentional, to be transparent and good.  The song reminds me of how short the time is.  It also brings a great big smile, remembering my childhood...my dad's old Datsun, my teal blue walls...I hope their memories will bring smiles.  And I hope that time will crawl.  I love my girls.  So. Much. 




Thursday, February 14, 2013

First Love

It's love week.  Today is Valentine's day and all the gab is focused on love...and retail.  Oy.

I had the opportunity to share with our homeschool group this week about the origin of holidays.  Why do we celebrate these special days?  We discussed the big holidays, Christmas and Easter, Thanksgiving, 4th of July.  I had lots of raised hands and correct responses to the "why" do we celebrate.   We discussed how each family has different traditions and that some families don't celebrate certain holidays at all.  But the big question of the day is...   ....   ..... (haha, I cannot stand it when the reality shows do this and then they break off for a commercial).  The big question is... why do we celebrate Valentine's Day? 

Lots of noses scrunched up, heads cocked to the side and a few giggles erupted. 
A little voice called out "it is a holiday about love". 
"That's right", I say.  "But why, how did it start?"
There was silence, which is strange for a room full of elementary age kiddos.  Nobody knew the origin of this "love" holiday.  This works out well for me, since my lesson would have been wildly boring if they all already knew the reasons! 

I had done my research as I myself had no clue why we feed the economy on this 14th day of February.  There were some differing accounts of the history.  The basic theories all focus on a man named Valentine.  During this time in history the emperor of Rome had declared that no man in his army was to married, and he made it against the law.  (he thought bachelors made better soldiers, no attachments, no distractions) Of course these men and their loves did not stop loving each other, or wanting to find love, and so this Valentine man felt pity for them and married them in secret.  The accounts I read were sketchy on Valentine's authority, whether he was a priest, etc.  Well, of course the emperor got wind of these secret marriages and put Valentine in prison.  It is said that one of the prison guards had a daughter who would visit Valentine and bring him food. Some versions say she was blind, some that she was a child, others that she was not, some say there was a miracle and her vision was restored by Valentine's prayer, others say he fell in love with her.  It all comes down to the fact that he was sentenced to be...un-headed..., what a romantic tale.  He wrote a final letter to this girl/woman, and signed it "with love, your Valentine".  Yep, that's how it all came about.  I am sure there is more technicality to how it developed into a holiday, but the jist is that people were endeared to his parting words and started signing notes of love in the same matter, from "your Valentine". 

Minus the beheading, it is the story of a man who valued the right for young couples to find and profess love, and met his death because of his willingness to help them. I found a cute book The Story of Valentine's Day that summed all this up in a kid friendly manner minus the death.  The kids finally had a bit of history for the "love" holiday.

So today our society has deducted the history of the holiday.  It is meant as a day to share love.  Not a bad idea.  It is a bit over the top, too focused on the commercial giving of gifts and not enough on the actual giving of love. 

Our group talked about ways you can show someone you love them.  We came up with a long list.  Many were about gift giving, but others were about smiles, hugs, time, help, and friendship.  We decided you don't have to spend money to show someone that you love them. 

I wanted to finish my lesson with a parting thought.  Did Valentine "invent love"?  No.  We were loved first.  Long ago.  By a man on a cross.  By his father who sent him.  We are loved wholly and completely by a perfect God who wove us in our mother's wombs.  A God who sacrificed a son for our sins.  There is no formal mention of Valentine's day in the Bible.  But the resounding theme is LOVE.  That we are and that we should love. 

Some clever person found a clever coincidence in God's word.  I like to use this illustration to remind my kiddos that God is mingled in all we do, and we can find him anywhere, and He is everywhere.  He knew there would be a Valentine and it would evolve into a commercial circus of a holiday, but He gave a way to
link it to his word. 
So I hope on this day filled with chocolate and flowers, that you will take a second to remember that you were loved first, by a mighty God.  I hope that as you show others your love today, that you will share His love too.

Happy Valentine's Day friends!
Sarah

Thursday, February 7, 2013

The Sticks

The edges stretch a little further here.  I wasn't sure I could get over the loss of a river view, but somehow the colors here are brighter.  The sunsets painted over the field edges have a different type of light and they go on and on.  There is a crispness and freshness that makes me feel like I can breath a little deeper, live a little lighter.  The black fields are folded over with remnants of last years crop poking out here and there like little amber stakes.  Something new will grow there soon.  There's a sense of excitement with that. 

There is an old familiarity here.  The smells of the farm are a reminder of some of my best days....and a hope that my greatest joys of youth can be a reality for my children.  They miss the big red house, the library, grandparents around the corner.  It pulls at my heart to take that away.  But the facts are simple and plain and this is best.  They are enjoying decorating their new rooms, exploring the new yard.  The apple trees with their low lying branches have been a great adventure so far.  As the snow fades and spring erupts we will plot our backyard paradise.  Santa delivered a fine trampoline, a couple new bikes, a scooter and a skateboard (thankyou Santa).  There are gardens to be constructed and flowers to be planted.  A row of trees to shade the yard and block the wind.  A go-cart to be fixed by daddy with the help of little hands.  Plans for horse fence and a big shed for daddy's equipment.  Hours of tractor watching and the slow evolution of the fields coming to life around us. 

Today the rain will keep us in.  But it will replenish this ground.  It will spur up new green, brighter pastures.  The colors today are solemn, but magical.  A misty grey hovers, muting the shades of winter.  I am excited for the brightness of spring, but marvel at the beauty of this haze. 

Some days can feel dreary and hopeless.  Foggy, dull, bleak.  But those days spur on life.  Remind us that without the struggle, the rain, we can't find or appreciate the joy or the grace.  Yesterday was sunny weather, but a foggy day for me.  Ironically, today is bleak outside but I feel a bright light burning within.  I survived a day to top all days, and get to learn from it.  I get to hopefully do better today, be brighter, and stronger.  Today will be a snuggly, reading, cookie making kind of day.

So as the sun flirts with  the horizon this morning I find a smile.  A swelling from deep with the realization that I get a fresh start each morning.  That there is a God who loves me beyond my human condition, and a hope that I can, through trial and error, learn to be more like Him. 

2 Corinthians 12:8-9 “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

My hope for you and yours: That you can find the sunshine even on cloudy days :)


Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Running....or not....an update and a confession

It's wintery out there.  A pallete of browns and golds covered in a blanket of white.  Not a good day for a run, however it's not really my excuse.  My last post started with the words "I am a runner"....I am currently NOT a runner.  I have not run for months.  I spent weeks and weeks, literal months prepping for the QC Marathon.  I was ready.  I was fit, I was up to 10 miles, I was SO excited and ready.  Then I was sick.  Weak with fever and stomach symptoms.  I couldn't eat and my muscles ached, I'd get dizzy from any exersion. 

I first considered that it was nerves.  It will pass.  I pleaded for it to pass.  It didn't pass.  I had to make a tough decision.  Run my first half marathon in less than peak condition....or not run at all.  Both sides of the argument were bummers.  On the one hand running sick could turn out completely disasterous...what if I couldn't finish, what if I were last, what if I finished, but it was such a horrible experience that I never wanted to do it again?  On the flip side, if I didn't do it at all I would feel like a quitter.  If I worked so hard and then didn't go for the prize then what was I teaching my kids?  What about Jami?  I was running off her inspiration....she did it in pain....shouldn't I?  It was a very crummy place to be. 

My hubby gave his two cents.  If I ran the race, I could likely end up sicker.  He didn't want to have to do all my work for me...who would take care of the kids, do the dishes, make the food, do the laundry?  He had already been picking up my slack for a week...he was ready for me to be better.  It was all in good fun, his comments, but he was right.  I listened, I conceded, I didn't run. 

I vowed to run my half before year's end.  I registered for a race in Galena.  A tough one, but I knew if I kept my conditioning up once I was better, that I would be ok.  So I continued to run once I was on the mend, but it wasn't the same.  My body was weaker, my time was scarcer, and my will was damaged.  Race day was a week away, and again I had a tough choice.  This time was easier.  A realization had set in.  As much as I enjoyed the runs, as much as I needed the time, it was far from a postition of priority in my life. 

Running was a pass time, a luxury if you will.  NOT a requirement.  Had I failed?  My only failure was in seeing a finished race as my only accomplishment of the year.  Am I disappointed?  It seeps in from time to time.  Will I run again?  I cannot wait.  Will I run a half marathon?  I don't know.  I am considering my motivations.  Is it about pride?  Accomplishment?  Sometimes having a goal to work toward is such a wonderful motivator, but sometimes it is a crippling deadline laced with stigma.  I'm not sure if I want my running to be measured by distances or times.  I love the challenge in it, but I think more that I love the freedom.  My biggest regret is claiming it for Jami, however, although I didn't compete in an official race, she was with my every footbeat on the road while I trained.  I think she would be proud of my attempt. 

As for my kids and what they have learned from this.  I hope they have learned that they come first.  Above all my projects and responsibilites, I will not sacrifice my time with them in liu of any race or pass time.
my would have been race number was picked up by a friend, it was accompanied by a sweet encouraging card, about a race she trained and trained for and never got to run....so thoughtful!

This was taken the day before the 1/2 marathon...laced up and ready to go, but sick.  Instead sat by and watched Ty and his soccer team enjoy the pool.  Oh well, there will be other races, but only one of this day that I cannot get back. 

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Running Wild

I am a runner.  Time and again I am asked, "why do you torture yourself like that?".  I get it, I used to see it as torture too.  I suffered many mysterious stomach flus and sore legs just prior to the first call for the the 3200m run in high school track!  I joined track to hang out with my friends, what was all this running about anyway!  I wasn't fast, so by default I was labeled a "distance" runner. There was no fire in my belly then.  At 15 I ran because my friends were in track. Unfortunately they were fast...so I could never keep up with them long enough to chat...and if I did, I was too out of breathe!  I'm glad I ran, for whatever reason I had at the time, but today I can see an evolution in my theory.  Today I run with a purpose and a shear love of it. 

In July of 2011 my friend Cindy posted about this ap she was using on her iPhone called Couch to 5K (c25k). She talked about how great she felt, and what a sense of accomplishment she had earned that day. So I searched it and downloaded it.  I found the below exerpt from a draft I never published last summer.

 I knew eight minutes would be a feat for me.  I'd been back in my running shoes for just 4 weeks and eight minutes straight was three minutes longer than I had gone in one stretch.  I know that sounds lame, but I am amazed at how age can slow you down. 

This glimpse back amazes me.  It motivates me.  It reminds me that we all take baby steps with much of what we do in this life.  One year ago I was fearful.  I doubted myself and my abilities.  I couldn't see in that small frame how much I would accomplish in a year...just a year ago I wasn't wild about running.  But today I am 39 days away from my first half marathon.  I can run 4 miles without walking, and I have completed a 5k and the 7mile Bix.  Last year I couldn't run a mile.  Today, I can and more.  Profile Picture

Now let me make something clear.  I am slow.  Painfully, pathetically slow.  But get this.  I am faster than someone who isn't running at all.  I am faster than I was last year, and I simply don't care about how fast I go, I only care about finishing the race.  I run to finish.

So much of my life is chaos, so much of my life is intermingled in the care of others, tending to the needs of a family, litterally running wild with errands, chores, schoolwork, phone calls, paperwork, meals, play, sports, and life.  Running is therapy.  Not always, but often when I can get out alone, it is the ONLY time I am alone.  Running is prayer time.  Running is peace.  Running is the one accomplishment I can feel or see in a day filled with laundry and dishes and messes.  I run for the achievement of it.  Oh, and running means I am guarenteed a shower (smile).

My friend Jami has MS.  Well, not officially, but she has symptoms associated with MS.  She was training for a half marathon when her symptoms started.  She is my former partner in crime turned spiritual mentor.  She is beautiful and strong. She changed my life by shining the light of Jesus into my world.  When she told me about her diagnosis, my heart was broken for her.  I thought to myself, "I want to run for her", and I decided I would run a half marathon because she couldn't.  Well, silly me.  This lady didn't need me to run for her, she decided she could do it herself.  And she did, she finished those 13.1 miles and she praised Jesus all the way.  She pretty much trumped any excuse I could think of making for why I "couldn't" run.  So, I run.  Each time I am tired and  I want to walk, I think of Jami.  I pray for her, and I keep going.  I run because I can.  You can read more about Jami's inspiring story at www.mymsmymightysavior.blogspot.com

Some days are harder than others.  I don't always want to lace up my shoes, but I never get back from a run and say I wish I hadn't accomplished that task today.  I wish I hadn't said those prayers, burned those calories, or breathed that air.  Sticking to a training program, also makes me valid.  How can I train my children to try their best, to finish a task, to do the hard things....if I don't do them myself.  Often they run with me, and the time with them is amazing.  Sharing a love for fitness, will hopefully stick with them.  The joy they experience from finishing a run, seeing that accomplishment, that is big.  That is life lesson stuff.  I run as an example.

My brother works at a store called Running Wild.  They sell shoes...running shoes.  Duh.  He has run wild his whole life.  Seriously!  But he is also a very talented runner and spent many hours working hard and training.  I stood on the sidelines of many races, and as all the people passed I would think "I should try running again too".  I wish I had stopped thinking about it sooner and actually bought a pair of shoes from my brother and hit the pavement.  This year my parents and kids got to watch four family members run the Bix.  My brother, his girlfriend Sara, me and my oldest son Ty.  We are awesome!  They smoked me.  But like I said, I finished the race and I did it with my son by my side. 

We are all running toward something.  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.  Phillipians 3:13-14 Slow but sure, I will get there.  I will finish the race.  With each day I will get stronger, and as I look back on my life I hope I will see the baby steps in my faith, like my running, turn into broader things. 



If you are a Quad Cities area runner, or considering giving running a try check out this great group of women. facebook.com/groups/Qcsolesisters