Blogiversary Bluebell Bouquet

My little corner of the Internet began here seven years ago in early April. I was so sick with a new pregnancy that I rested my head on the desk while clicking through to see the magic Melissa Wiley had brought to life in the blog she designed for me.  I had doubts. Big doubts. I couldn’t imagine finding something to write several days a week.  I couldn’t imagine publishing in a way that made me vulnerable to the vast worldwide web.  I couldn’t imagine putting my heart out there. But I also couldn’t imagine writing any other way. I don’t know how to write any other way. Lissa was all encouragement. I gave it a chance.

Seven years later, I’m so grateful. Blogging has taught me lots of things. Many of those lessons, sadly, were very difficult ones. And all too often, I think about clicking it all closed.

More often, though, I’m very grateful for this space. I’m grateful for a medium that allows me to express myself. I’m grateful for a community that reads and encourages and prays and celebrates with me. And I’m very grateful that my memories are all cataloged here. I am able to reminisce. My children are able to see what was and also to hear the intention in my voice. It’s never perfect. And the vision never comes to life (or to the blog) exactly as I saw it, but they will always know where my heart has been. And I’m glad for that gift.

I’m also grateful for the readers who tell me this space blesses them. What a privilege to be able to bless!

Someone asked the other day about bluebell posts from all our early bluebell days. I can’t go back that far. Half our bluebell days—the first half—were before the blog. They are captured in random columns and mixed up snapshots in cardboard boxes in the basement. Bums me out. But the second half of those days? They are here. And we have just had a lovely morning revisiting them. Mary Beth gathered the memories into a bouquet for you.

Happy Friday! Happy Spring! Thanks for hanging out with me all these years. I love you to the moon and back.

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needle & thREAD

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These days, I'm "sewing" dance costumes. I use the term loosely, because really, I'm rigging alterations and hoping there are no wardrobe malfunctions. Karoline has exploded into reading the Junie B. Jones books. She requires someone to sit next to her and help quite a bit still, so that's what I've got to show for my reading this week. Because of Junie B. and her journal, Karoline wants to start a journal of her own. I've promised her we'll make a cover for a composition book either today or tomorrow (something like mine). And I promise you I'll take pictures along the way so you have a  tutorial.

What are you sewing and reading this week? I really do want to hear all about it!

Make sure the link you submit is to the URL of your blog post or your specific Flickr photo and not your main blog URL or Flickr Photostream. Please be sure and link to your current needle and thREAD post below in the comments, and not a needle and thREAD post from a previous week. If you don't have a blog, please post a photo to the needle & thREAD group at Flickr. 

       Include a link back to this post in your blog post or on your flickr photo page so that others who may want to join the needle and thREAD fun can find us! Feel free to grab a button here (in one of several colors) so that you can use the button to link.

The Gentle Hand of God

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Early this year, I decided that it is a year for renewal. Maybe I didn't decide, exactly. It was either renew or curl up in a ball and pull the covers over my head. Renew it was.

I think I had this vision of peaceful, serene days of tea sipping, while reading my Bible outdoors in warm breeze. Instead, I've been hurtling myself out of bed at 5:15 and stepping into the cold to get to the gym. (Okay, so that's only Wednesday mornings. The rest aren't so early. And this Wednesday, I didn't even go. But still.) Renewal is work, I'm learning. 

Yesterday morning, after a night that consisted of only four hours sleep, I heard the faint chime of bluebells. Still a little early, I thought. Maybe later in the week. A curious thing happened. My husband asked me three times before 7:00 AM if I planned to go to Bull Run. It's curious, I think, because Mike hasn't been to the bluebells in twelve years. It's my favorite place, my favorite time of year. But he doesn't go. The pollen makes him itch something fierce. He's not a big fan of dirt. And there is this thing called work. He spends glorious spring days in an office without windows. Still, he kept persisting in asking me if I was going. Perhaps he thought I needed a Mother Nature Nurture Day?

We went. I called my friend Linda on the way and she met us there. There was much splashing and squealing. There was a funeral for a dead fish and the discovery of a very large dead bird. A little girl who last year rode in an Ergo to hike in to our spot decided that this was her year to climb a tree. Little blonde girls who once got so muddy that they ended up stripped naked in the creek to rinse before going home are now taller than I am. Old tree stumps once used as benches have rotted too much to bear weight. New trees have fallen. Everything has changed. 

And yet.

It is still the place of peace. Still the spot where I know I can go to feel the gentle hand of God touch us all as surely as the afternoon sun and the spring breeze tenderly kiss our faces.

Renewal. It's happening. 

I'm at MomHeart today

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And we're talking about pruning in order to make room for Light and Warmth. What's crowding your spirit and obscuring God's access to your soul?

"Sometimes, it’s a slow process. Sometimes, we wake up one morning and find the whole bush covered with blackened, holey leaves. If we allow it, God begins to prune. Often, the pruning is painful, very painful. The only way to bear the pain of the pruning is to keep our eyes on the face of the Gardener. He has a plan. It’s a plan to save us, a plan to allow us to bloom abundantly. But first, He must strip us bare.  And there we stand in the summer sun, naked in our seemingly barren state. Very little green remains, no blooms can be seen. We need to begin again, confident that the Gardener will provide all we need to grow and flourish." Please read the rest here. 

Gathering My Thoughts

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I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

It's eighty degrees today! And perfectly beautiful. Now it's easy to believe that really, truly it will be spring. Kristin rallied the troops yesterday and we all got out and started weeding. They did a huge job. The front bed looks nice and tidy and I'm eagerly awaiting the appearance of tulips. Now, I'm looking forward to doing some planning. And some planting:-)

::listening to 

Crazy ridiculous noise in the dance studio. There is jazzercise in one studio and four-year-olds tap dancing in another and a crowded lobby full of moms and dads and siblings. This was the only window I could find to write. My girls think it can't be done. We shall see.

::clothing myself in 

Khakis and a linen shirt with a lightweight sweater. Bliss.

::talking with my children about these books

Karoline had a major burst into chapter books in the past week. Chapter books! We are having some serious fun getting to know Junie B. 

::thinking and thinking

About renewal . I had a nice, long talk with Aimee and we've got it all figured out ;-).

::pondering prayerfully

from CNS

Pope Francis preached about the Gospel story from St. Luke about the two disappointed disciples on the road to Emmaus after the death of Jesus.

“They were afraid. All of the disciples were afraid,” he said. As they walked toward Emmaus and discussed everything that had happened, they were sad and complaining.

“And the more they complained, the more they were closed in on themselves: They did not have a horizon before them, only a wall,” the pope said, according to Vatican Radio.

The disciples had had such high hopes that Jesus would be the one who would redeem Israel, but they thought their hopes were destroyed, he said.

“And they stewed, so to speak, their lives in the juice of their complaints and kept going on and on and on with the complaining,” the pope said. “I think that many times when difficult things happen, including when we are visited by the cross, we run the risk of closing ourselves off in complaints.”

When all people can think of is how wrong things are going, Pope Francis said, the Lord is close, “but we don’t recognize him. He walks with us, but we don’t recognize him.”

Like the disciples joined by the risen Lord on the road to Emmaus, people can hear beautiful things, but deep down, they continue to be afraid, the pope said.

“Complaining seems safer. It’s something certain. This is my truth: failure,” he said.

But the Gospel story shows how very patient Jesus is with the disciples, first listening to them and then explaining things step by step, until they see him.

“Jesus does this with us, too,” the pope said. “Even in the darkest moments, he is always with us, walking with us.”

Complaining and griping — about others and about things in one’s own life — is harmful “because it dashes hope. Don’t get into this game of a life of complaints,” he said.

::carefully cultivating rhythm

I have resigned myself to the fact that, for the remainder of soccer season, my gym time will be limited to two super early mornings a week. And I've worked out a way to work out at that same time at home on the off-gym days. There is peace in that. 

I've also come to some big conclusions about online time, particularly time on a Facebook feed or browing Instagram or clicking Pinterest. I have a life I want to live. I have a vision and I like to be itentional. Actually, it's really, really important to me to be intentional. Sometimes--often--I think the lives we want are ours for the taking, but attaining them is hindered by the clutter of the lives we see on screens and the room they take up in our brains. What if I limited myself to five or ten minutes each on Facebook and Instagram every day during the week? Just long enough to check in and offer a word of encouragement or see if someone is wanting to talk to me about something in particular? And what if I refrained from social media altogether on the weekends? Then, what if I chose only five blogs to read regularly? The others will be there for the rainy afternoon of binge reading or if there is something in particular I'm seeking. And Pinterest? It's a great filing system and a good place to go if I have a specific question. Otherwise, I recognize how important it is for me to keep it on the outer margins.

I love the Internet. I appreciate it so very much. There are countless ways it's made my life easier and enriched it with friendships. But I love the look on my child's face when I click the computer closed even more.

::creating by hand

Mostly, we're all about altering dance costumes this week. Competitions begin on Saturday. After a rough beginning, I'm learning to love like Velcro.

::learning lessons in

asking for help.

::encouraging learning 

There will be a decided shift in the next few weeks. We've wrapped up our writing courses for the year. I'm going to hyperfocus on math and nature study. We're heading to the woods with our sketchbooks soon. Can't wait!

::begging prayers

For my friend Barbara's new grandson, Isaac. (So far, both our homeschooling-friends-grown-up who have had babies have named them Isaac.)  He was born Saturday, by emergency c-section, six weeks early. He and his mom are doing fine, but your prayers for recovery and growth and NICU grace are very much appreciated.

And for Rick Warren, his son, and his family.

::keeping house

Spring sunshine is casting light on the dust. I'm totally up for some spring cleaning.

::crafting in the kitchen 

Kristin's birthday is this weekend. Per family tradition, she gets to pick dinner. But the cake? Oh, the cake is all about the girlies and creating and crafting in the kitchen.

Also, we had a great Facebook conversation about grocery bills and how to plan and budget. God willing, I'll bring that conversation here this week.

And I'm pondering treats for the trail, or in this case, for the dance competition. I'm going to pack and go with the girls this weekend. What do you like to pack in "lunchboxes?"

::loving the moments

when I find myself in an old, familiar place, decades later, and smile to myself because really, it all worked out very well. We went to Charlottesville for Friday night and Saturday. It was beautiful and so, so much fun to watch Paddy play and to take my little girls on a walking tour of "back when Mommy was Paddy's age." I wish I could have stayed longer. There's no place quite like Charlottesville in the springtime...

::giving thanks 

for sunshine.

living the liturgy

We're focusing on Divine Mercy.

Easter is a season. My intention is to live it as such. Throw open the windows; let light flood our lives. He is risen! And we, too, can run and leap and shout for joy:-). So let's get after that...

::planning for the week ahead

Big deep breaths. I worked hard on sketching out all the commitments, hopes, plans, meals, chores... I feel better for just having put it all on paper. Now, to make it all work and not lose my peace. 

Instagram recap: