He Hangs the Moon

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A few months ago, Mary Beth read Karoline a story about the moon.Karoline, who is two, was enchanted. Not long after the covers of the book closed, she declared, “I want the moon.” She was very matter of fact and saw absolutely nothing exceptional about this desire to possess the moon.

Every night, on his way home, my husband calls to see if we need anything. He’ll stop at the store and pick up a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk or … the moon? Karoline answered the phone when he called that evening.Read the rest here.

My Heart's at Home Daybook - 18th January

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Outside My Window ...
it's very, very cold. But still no snow.
 
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I am listening to...
The Mozart Effect . I'm a huge believer in classical music for babies.
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Towards rhythm and beauty ...
My baby nurses at least fourteen times a day. I counted. Usually, I never count but I wondered if it was my imagination that she was "always" nursing. It's not.She has a sweet rhythm all her own. Seems her purpose these days is to slow me down. She's very, very good at that.
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I am thankful for ...
the fact that there is no place my children would rather be on a Sunday afternoon than here at home, making homemade Buffalo wings, folding laundry, and watching football. (Well, maybe they're not so keen on the laundry, but they do love the wings and the company.)
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From the kitchen ...
I have a new favorite salad: spring mix, goat cheese, toasted pecans, craisins, and homemade dijon vinaigrette. Every day for lunch. I was very sad when pomegranates were no longer available in the stores. I'm not terribly fond of craisins and would prefer fresh oranges or grapes, but I can't seem to keep them in stock these days. Craisins will hold me when fresh fruit isn't available.

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I am wearing ...
a white t-shirt, long red cotton cardigan, khaki pants, ski socks, bandana-headband-style, pearl earrings, down blanket, lipgloss, and a sweet baby in a very faded floral sling.
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I am creating ...
several medal necklaces. I've become aware of what a witness religious jewelry can be--and what a comfort. So, I'm making several different necklaces to keep and to give.
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  On my iPod
Joy in the Journey: Michael Card
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Towards a real education ...
We are going to wrap up our studies of the Alamo this week and begin Westward Expansion next week. I'm really loving the IEW history lessons. They dovetail perfectly and writing is our focus for this semester. The little ones are excited to have had a sneak preview of the final Alphabet Path story. The "Z" story will be up for you this week. it's very sweet, but we were all sort of sad to see it end, too. (By the way, "W" and" X&Y" are already up, they're just not hyperlinked on the elizabethfoss.com site yet.)
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Bringing beauty to my home ...
iI think an organized pantry and an organized laundry room are beautiful things, don't you? And there's nothing like freshly washed floors, a vaccum with a scented bag, and candles lit throughout to ready the house to welcome the weary on a wintry evening
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I am reading  ...
to my under-tens at least an hour a day. I'm very sure that reading aloud to the little ones, requiring reading of the big ones, ensuring that everyone write every day, proficiency in math and lots and lots of lively discussion is all we need academically right now. Good thing, too, because it's taking me all day to provide that for everybody in my care.I can read and nurse with the best of them, though;-)

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I am hoping ...
a this will be a very safe week in Washington DC. It's been a long time since security niggled at my thoughts all day. But there it is. People I love will be in and out of the city (no small feat in itself) all week long. I hope we're safe.
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Around the house ...
I am noticing Michael's absence. He took his messes with him. He also took his bright conversation, his helping hand, his easy laugh, his warm companionship. Ah, but it's nice to rid of the mess, huh?
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One of my favorite things ...
text messages from people named Michael Foss. Both of them. 
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A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:
We will  gather in front of the TV to celebrate our country on Tuesday. We will watch the inauguration. To ignore it is to deny all that's right about a country that elects its officials. To ignore it is to miss a valuable opportunity to rededicate ourselves to prayer that this government succeeds. I hope and pray that our new president's policies fail. But I do not want our government to fail. I fully admit it will be difficult to listen to that inaugural address, but listen we will. I'm sure that Rick Warren will be the high point of the day, though. Mike will spend two nights in his office on either side of Tuesday. He's in a secure zone and he can't leave. There are no hotel rooms to be had in DC. Then, he will spend the night at the Shrine since he'll direct the vigil Mass before the March and Mass the morning of the March for EWTN. I think I'm really going to miss him this week. My bigger kids will march on Thursday and then go back downtown for a field trip at the National Gallery of Art on Friday.
So much real life fodder for narrations this week...
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Here is a picture thought I am sharing~
   DSC_0400
  I wish I could tell you the "missing" is not so bad this time. But it is.
I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.

Be sure to visit Peggy for links to more daybooks.

Why Blog?

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Why do we blog? Wrong question. I can't answer that. I don't know why some people blog. There are as many reasons to blog as there are people, I suppose. Why do I blog? I've been trying to articulate the answer to this question for myself. I'm considering the answer in light of the quotes from Thomas a Kempis that Colleen shared in this post. I've made a note of those posts for the sidebar here on my blog. I like them there: they encourage me to share, but to do so with thought and care and caution and prudence. But what do I share?

Do I share the bad days, the ugly underbelly of life with lots of people? Do I share the failings, kind of like a virtual confession? Do I share the plans gone awry and the sin that ensues? Do I share the fear and the illnesses and the general muck of life? Sometimes. But when I do that, I do it with an eye towards something else. I might share the grief, but only to get to the glory. Because it's the glory that's of Him!

I blog to share the joy.

And there is joy to be had in every moment of every day. Rebekah writes :

In the pressing moments of the day, where sorrow, sadness, anddisappointment may dwell; where thoughts and fears fill the heart, there is beauty...there must be. That is why this corner of the blogworld is mine. There is a need for the soul to look toward the sun, to find the tiny bud blooming in the cold, to hear music through the noise. Beauty must be sought after, although at times it reveals itself without warning or announcement. I will purposefully run after it and dig for it if I must. It is small and simple, huge and glorious...everywhere it is. There is beauty in my day, joy in the moment and in each breath. It waits around a corner, smiles beyond the glass, and whispers with tears.

We can claim a spot for ourselves in this blogworld--a spot that illuminates the beauty of the days, the hours, the moments of this life lived in pursuit of holiness. We can persevere in writing about the joy. To do so doesn't deny the ugly, the bad, or the sinful. Instead, to do so is to glorify the redeeming power of our Savior and the goodness He has planned for us in every moment. No one wants to suffer. No one really wants to sin. No one wants to fall or to fail or to falter. But we do. We all do. It goes without saying. I blog to give voice to what comes next. I blog to say that God is good. And He is real and He is present and there is tangible grace and beauty in every single corner of our lives. So celebrate it. Dance for joy! Sing for joy!

Write for joy!

God is good. Tell the world.

Gratitude and Patience

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This morning, I took Ann's words with me to prayer. And they echoed in my head all day. Tonight, I find myself marveling at how the Spirit provides. I've written about how a baby changes us. I've written about how trauma--particularly life-threatening trauma--changes us. I want that change. I embrace that change. Because with openness to life comes grace and with trauma comes more grace. The grace will change me, shape me, if only I let it.The grace is abundant and it's still there for the taking. What stands in the way?

I do.

I've always thought patience was a strong point of mine. I am slow to anger with a child.  I can wait for someone I love for a very long time (just ask my husband). What I've learned, however, is that I am not patient with myself.I am eager to move on, to improve, to achieve.And in my eagerness, I miss the grace.  Ann tells me why:

Deep breathe. Love is patient. And it strikes me, an epiphany over the fry of bubbling pancakes, “Love can only be patient when it is first grateful for what is right now.”

Itis true: I can love only when I am thankful for the now. When I embrace the present as a gift, a time and place not to be afraid of, to resist and fight, but a place to welcome as a wise bestowment from a kind Father.

Love cannot be patient when I am discontented or my fears (of failure, of bedlam) drive me to micromanage. Patience can only grow in the soil of gratitude. Lack gratitude, then lack patience, and, ultimately, lack love.

There is the checklist. The to-dos. The plan. And the neat little tick marks next to each item are proof positive of my successes. Chores finished. Lessons complete. Meals planned. Groceries purchased. Pat myself on the back. I did it. Micromanager me.  But what is "it," exactly? The goal is not to conquer the list. The goal is to live my vocation without sinning. The goal is to live in love. And love is patient--even with oneself.

Ann writes that in order to be patient we must be grateful. There's the missing piece. It's not more order, or a better plan, or something else I don't have right now. It's being fully present -- and fully grateful -- for the now.The moment. It's not pushing us all through to  the end of the day so that I can rest in the knowledge that I accomplished everything on all three of my lists. It's stopping in the moment and acknowledging its worth. Acknowledging the very gift of time.

 When the two-tear-old is spinning pirouettes in a dress she took from her big sister and marshmallows are growing fluffy in the noisy mixer and the big sister is wailing pitifully because she wants that dress back  and I'm picking chicken for the soup (that must be made in the 12 minutes marshmallow mix time) and the phone rings and it's a dear friend, I am grateful for all of it.The whole messy moment. I am not pushing past it.I must slow down in it. Finish the call. Turn off the mixer. Set the soup to simmer. Wipe the tears. I cannot push on. I have to stop. We'll sort this out, my soul and me. We'll see that the list will wait and we'll be patient with the process. We'll thank God for the pause, in the very moment of it. If I can get to grateful, He will give me patience. With myself.

The spinning child and the wailing child will both know love. And so will I because He is in the moment. And over a lifetime, a lifetime of trusting Him with every moment, the grace will be abundant. That's the life I want to live.