Small February Changes

One day later it is February and time for me to commit to a new change. I feel compelled to make two. Recently as my son has been asking me if the animals we are eating wanted to be eaten, and if it's mama is ok with it being eaten, I have felt mega twinges of conscience. THUS, back to my vegetarian college roots. Wooh, I've been eating meat on and off since getting pregnant with my three year old, but its time to stop, and now that its in writing I can be held accountable. NO more non fish meat for me.

#2 We have been half- hearted cloth diaperers. I now commit to not buying any more paper diapers except for perhaps travel.

All right, you can check on me. Call me out if you see me slipping!

Here goes -

so - still no commercial hair products, no meat, no paper diapers.

One Small Change

Today I decided to take the One Small Change challenge. Hip Mountain Mama has challenged us to commit to making one small step toward a more sustainable lifestyle each month until Earth Day. Just a few days ago I decided to quit purchasing commercial hair products. For those of you who know me that is BIG COMMITMENT FOR ME because my hair is as thick as a horses and down to my waist. I have started with the basic baking soda wash with Apple Cider Vinegar rinse and have been pleasantly surprised. My hair feels just as clean, smooth, and shiny as it did with my expensive Giovanni hair products. I am only two showers into this shift though so we will see.

But, I am sick of throwing out old bottles, plastic bottles, and spending so much money on myself. Ahhh... ok here's a second half to that. I will do the math and take half the money I am saving and let my son pick a place to donate it every month. It will probably only be five dollars or so, but it will be a good learning opportunity for him.

All right... thats all for now!
I will keep you posted and would love for you to join in this challenge (and give me tips on the hair thing if you know better alternatives to Baking Soda.)

Life Lessons

Mother to Son

Langston Hughes (1922)


Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

I began this blog nearly two years ago and reveled in the friendship extended to
a girl who can feel silly and too young for her job of mothering and
worried that that is the way others see her as well.

My oldest does often stretch me to the utmost, but I have been recognizing
in the past few days that it is hugely my fault. I have known what he
has needed and refused it out of laziness and selfishness - he just
needs lots of time outdoors and lots of activities. I can't sit at
home and do my own thing in the same room as him and expect him to be
emotionally healthy. He is not a child who was made to live in an
apartment - I love being outside, but I can also be quite content just
holing up and reading and crafting and baking for days on end, and he
needs more stimulation than that. If he doesn't get it he begins to
demand it because he just craves care and attention and isn't fazed by
it being negative attention if necessary.

So I am being pulled out of the deepening hole we had been creating
for ourselves of lost tempers and unmet needs. I am grateful.
Yesterday we adventured along the canal path for nearly two hours of
rich contentment and beautiful imagination.

I LOVE WHO MY SON IS. I think that's why I can get so frustrated when
junk starts to hide that little man in there. When he chooses to be
awful, or when I am responsible because of not giving him enough or
the right kind of attention and social outlet, don't provide him with
enough rhythm and stability, or simply forget to give him a good lunch
or enough verbal prep for a transition occurring in our day (i.e. In
ten minutes we will be putting away this game and heading to the
store, and oh what fun we will have.) I can lose sight of who he
really is. And he misses out on the joy of experiencing that too. He
gets trapped by crabbiness that threatens to rob him of joy and peace.

When he is thriving his eyes are more full of light than almost
anyone's i've ever seen. He is clever, witty, perceptive of my
emotions, affectionate, intensely creative, imaginative, and
adventurous. What most breaks my heart is how difficult it can be for
other people to see that. Often all they can see are the difficult
aspects of his personality - I want people to delight in my boy. I
believe this is my deepest need in this parenting situation. It
crushes me every time someone looks at him, widens their eyes, and
says, "wow, i'll be praying for YOU mom." Even if well intentioned I
don't want pity.
He's amazing.

I'm learning piece by piece who he is and how to help him peel away
and prevent his junk so that he can live well in this world of ours.
Seeing things through his ingenious eyes turns my life into a constant
adventure. I just need to be ready to join him in it, and be
enchanted by the gift God gave me in my little honeymoon boy.

Life Come Awake - Quotations Thursday

"Let us in all the troubles of life remember that our one lack is LIFE-- that what we need is more life -- more of the life making presence in us making us more, and more largely, ALIVE. When most weary of "life," as our unbelief would phrase it, let us remember that it is, in fact, the inroad and presence of death we are weary of. When most inclined to sleep, let us rouse ourselves to LIVE. Of all things let us avoid the false refuge of a weary collapse, a hopeless yielding to things as they are... He has the victory who, in the midst of pain and weakness cries out, not for the repose of forgetfulness, but for strength to fight, for more power, more consciousness of being, more God in Him... Eternal life is life come awake."

-- George MacDonald

Blazing Stars and Cocktails

"I saw eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright..."

A few nights ago I had a dream marked with the breath of the earthy and sublime. The sublime took my breath away. In a lodge with my husband and others I stepped out onto a large balcony into a jet black night. The balcony overlooked a coast; waves gently lapping, frothing. But what made my chest ache and keeps returning to me in glad bursts during quiet moments were the stars; golden and glorious, twinkling on the horizon, clustered in greater quantity than I've ever seen. After absorbing this sight till sweet gladness slipped down unto my toes I returned into the lodge to discover a party, my party, bustling with guests. Filling glasses left and right, I turned and heard myself ask, "Would you like a cocktail God?" God!? Drinking at my party? Not shocked; pleased, delighted? Slightly embarrassed. I poured His drink. Don't ask me what He had. All that remains is GLORY. Blazing stars and a party full of God.


"There is in God, some say,
A deep but dazzling darkness..."

Quotations taken from Henry Vaughan

Past, Present, and Future Dreams

Yesterday I had the fascinating experience of opening up my old "All About Me" - Dr Seuss fill in the blank book from when I was six. Other than learning about how many hairs I believed I had on my head (eleven) and the farthest I had ever walked (about 60 miles - ha), I saw that I had filled in writer and farmer as my dreamed of future occupations. This surprised me as I had thought those were new dreams. I didn't remember them being childhood fantasies. Recently I have been marinating in Dorothy Sayers mysteries and my genius at guessing the ending of these twisty thrillers 9 times out of 10 has lent to my husband (always looking for some exciting career for me to pursue) trying to push me into writing detective novels, which unfortunately I am not at all interested in. But, I am in fact quite interested in SOMEDAY, not now, pursuing writing in some format. But, this specific piece of writing will need to come to an end now since my lil rascal who I have thought was asleep for the past hour just walked out of his room without a hint of bed head. Bummer

Family or Rend and Repair

The family provides a place of deep comfort and healing in this fractured world. Confucius has a quote that paraphrased says that if we want to have a healthy country we must first have healthy families, and to have healthy families we must first be healthy ourselves. But how difficult this can be! Our families once disordered, no matter how much love they include, can often be such a deeply destructive force in our psyches that we have to climb huge mountains to be healthy ourselves. If we don't find healing we then bring that brokenness into the next generations of our families and continue this pattern of pain.

There is such pain in this world, such deep, deep pain, whether we look in war torn tribal areas, or peek behind white picket fences in the quiet suburbs.

I know. I know that Christ brings the redemption not only of the world in mass, but for each of us in particular. But, how does He choose to package that renewal? It obviously doesn't seem to come in one installment. Wham bam, I'm all better mam. Nope. That's not how I've seen it. How does He deliver His monthly installments of grace? Where are the streams in which the balms of Gilead flow, because I have a whole lot of people I want to send to them. I know that we are the Bride who stands with the Spirit and sings, Come, Come, Come to the living waters. But how is one to bathe in a stream that is so polluted by the Bride? I know we are God's hands but so often in our brokenness, despite our best intentions, our hands hold switchblades and we further rip rather than repair.


Thankfully, although Christ left us here to be His bodily representation after His ascension, He can still transcend our stumbling attempts to love. He can even fill our love so that it really does provide healing despite ourselves.

Considering my background I tend to mull over these questions quite a bit. I grew up a pastor's daughter who has seen my fair share of ugliness within the Church. I also got my undergrad degree in Christian Formation and Ministry. So, I ask these questions. I know that especially those in "high church" see the healing as coming mystically through the sacraments, and I believe this can be true. I know those in pentecostal churches think that you just need to pray or perhaps even pray in tongues to be given that healing, and I again believe that that can be true. But I have seen deeply committed Catholics and Protestants who wrestle with their wounds despite these measures.
I am not satisfied yet in my knowledge about how to be a conduit of God's love that will mend people's brokenness. But, considering the pain that I see multiplying and being passed down through this lack of healing, I am motivated to learn and grow in my ability to be a Peacemaker on earth. Whether it is from my living room or a literal battlefield I want to Live bringing life to those I touch.