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::noticing God's glory
We spent lots of time in the yard last weekend. Kristin started plants indoors late in the winter and she brought her little baby tomatoes and peppers over to plant in our ground yesterday. After much weeding and dirt hauling, a few new whiskey barrels, and a trip to deBaggio’s, my little piece of suburbia is looking much greener.
::listening to
The cappuccino machine in the orthodontist’s office. Seriously, this guy makes me want to start drinking coffee again. Then again, his tea selection is impressive, too.
::clothing myself in
Lightweight jeans above my ankles and an oxford cloth shirt. My feet are happily ensconsed in crocheted TOMS, a Mother’s Day gift from Mary Beth.
::talking with my children about these books
Shakespeare. Christian is taking a Shakespeare course this summer and I’ve seized the opportunity to immerse us all in the bard once again. His first assignment was to read this article and a few others. Well, that’s interesting! Perhaps Shakespeare wasn’t the Shakespeare we thought we knew? I’m planning to tweak these plans, gathering baskets of books today.
::thinking and thinking
that I wish I could see myself the way my husband sees me. Particularly when I’ve been stung by the words of another woman, Mike’s insight is always such a revelation to me and I come away from our conversation wishing that I could just see through his lens occasionally.
::pondering prayerfully
“When we honestly ask ourselves which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” ― Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Road to Daybreak: A Spiritual Journey
You know? I think this one suits me again this week.
::carefully cultivating rhythm
Could we please talk about email management this week? There are currently 1265 unread “new” emails in my inbox. These do not include blog emails. Clearly, I am a poor email manager. Everything pretty much gets dumped into the same box (except blog mail). I read it (or not) and then move on. If I know it’s an ad or whatever, I’m likely to just skip it. Why don’t I delete it? I have no idea. I never archive. I never trash. It’s just a giant mess. So, how do I clean it all up and unclutter without losing something I might actually need or missing someone with whom I might need to connect? Oh, and I’d rather not spend hours fixing this. Ideas? Suggestions?
::creating by hand
The girls need some summer clothes as soon as possible. My sewing mission is critical. This week, I’m focusing on tops.
::learning lessons in
time management. Always. But more than that, I think I’m learning lessons in emotional investment. There’s only so much of me. Where is the best place to invest my time and emotional energy, even my affection?
::encouraging learning
It’s been about five years since I made detailed plans. I think, back then, that I was planning on paper (or digitally) because those plans gave me a sense of security and maybe of control. To some degree, they were also a creative outlet. Sharing them was an opportunity for community. But then Sarah was born and we leapt as a family into a new season. Somehow, I’ve been propelled into an incredibly active existence that leaves me little time for pondering with pen and paper or even keyboard...
Besides, keyboards make me ache: my neck and shoulders and fingers and wrists. Writing is laborious. Words have long been my constant companions and, in many ways, my comfort and joy. They still are. Giving them voice in print, however, is exceedingly challenging for a myriad of reasons. I remind myself all the time that God has a plan.
::begging prayers
for our prayer community, particularly for veterans and their families, who still struggle mightily with scars both seen and unseen.
::keeping house
I’ve started to get some deep cleaning, decluttering, and organizing in the works. My house looks very neglected lately (probably since I haven't been home nearly enough to keep things running smoothly). I’m trying not to go after it all gung-ho. My style has always been to make a long list and then prusue it relentlessly until the job is done and I’m totally spent. That’s not going to happen this summer. I can’t afford to deplete myself that way. So, I’ll chip away at it, certain that no tragedy will befall us because my house isn’t ship-shape perfect.
::crafting in the kitchen
I’m going to roast chickens from our co-op tonight. I’ll smother them with herbs from our garden and garlic from the farmer’s market. Alongside, we’ll have summer squash from the farmer’s market and a salad with greens and beets from the same farm. Nothing inspires me more in the kitchen than local food with which to create.
::loving the moments
When we manage to squeak out a date night despite the ridiculously demanding weekend kid schedules.
::giving thanks
for good news and the promise of new beginnings.
living the liturgy
This is not some earthshaking revelation, just a simple truth: the most effective way to live the liturgy is to go to Mass as often as possible. It’s all there, available every day. You don’t need a craft closet. You don’t need a grocery shopping list. You don’t even need much advanced planning. You just need to show up. And a priest who gives relevant homilies is plus, too.
::planning for the week ahead
Tomorrow is orientation at James Madison University for Christian. Mike’s taking him. I’m going to spend my day with Mary Beth at physical therapy and Stephen at a soccer match. I will be actively working to silence my inner teacher that would very much like to hover.
Nutcracker auditions are this weekend. See? It’s not my imagination. There is no offseason.
Stephen will play in the State Cup semi-finals on Saturday. If he wins, the finals are Sunday. It’s seems so incredibly unlikely that we could have two state champions in the same year. We are, however, only two games away. Say a prayer for him? It would be most unpleasant to lose this one;-)
The internet is a formidable force for bringing the comfort and consolation and hope of the Lord to all of us. It can be an incredibily powerful medium for community. There is an unfathomable resource for prayer here. We have on the 'net the privilege of praying for people and of being witness to the miracles brought forth when fervent, faith-filled people pray for one another.
Let's be that community of hope and faith for one another.
How about this idea? What if I pop in here every weekend, share Sunday's gospel and talk a wee bit about how we can live it and pray it in our homes? And then you tell me how we can pray for you that week? Deal?
{And please, do return and let us know how prayer is bearing fruit.}
Think
"Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and start with the person nearest you." ~ Mother Teresa
Pray
In the crazy busy of my days, I beg the Holy Spirit to make me aware of the person He intends for me to help. Moment by moment, show me. Make it obvious. Propel me forward to be your hands and feet.
Act
It is the craziness that is the end of May. In a recent impromptu poll of mothers gathered at a sporting event, it was decided that May is far more stressful than December. So, I'm going with that scientific research. It's crazy right now.
Go outside alone today. Whether it's unseasonably cold or as hot as July. Go outside. Breathe in what He offers. Close your eyes. Face the sun. Roll your shoulders back and down. Make yourself stay there.
Be still.
And know that He is God.
Last weekend was intense. I left with the girls on Friday early afternoon for what I thought would be a little over an hour's drive into Maryland. Four and a half hours later, we arrived at the dance competition. Traffic is not a happy thing.
I settled the girls Friday night at the hotel and Mike and I compared notes one more time. Saturday would find me leaving the hotel at 7:00 to go to the competition. I would return at 11:45 that night. Mike would take Nick to Richmond for the State Cup semi-finals and then return home to watch Patrick play at 7:00 that night. My dad and stepmom would meet Mike in Richmond, with Patrick and Zach in tow.
Back at home, Michael would take Stephen to his State Cup quarterfinal match. After Stephen's game, he'd pick up Mike's parents and get them to Patrick's game. He'd also be sure that Patrick's clothes for prom arrived at his game so that he could do a quick change and make the last 45 minutes of the dance.
Over the course of the day, we noted some missed details: a corsage, dinner for Paddy, whether Nick would stay in Richmond or not. With enough people wholeheartedly engaged, we gathered up those details, too.
Mike and I were in constant contact via text message. Phone calls aren't really practical at a dance competition. It's way too loud.
Around 2:30, while walking with Mary Beth and Katie to lunch, it became apparent that my 12-year-old was going to play in the State Cup Finals the following day. State Cup is really big deal. A really, really big deal. Nicky is the youngest of five boys. Five super athletic boys. They have won state championships. They have been named MVP. But no one had ever won State Cup the very first time they played. No one won as a 12-year-old. Big, big deal.
I thought about how long it had taken me to go north and how much further south I'd have to go. I thought about how early I'd awakened after the worst night's sleep ever. I thought about the little girls and how they would not be happy about another long car ride.
"Mom, you have to go. It's really, really important," Mary Beth urged. Really? Is it that important that I be there? Do they really even notice if I'm not there?
"He wants us all there, Mom. He said so. As many of us need to get there as possible."
I recalled a little girl scanning the stands for a spectator who would never show up. Over and over again. She's all grown up now, but she still scans the stands and it still brings tears to her eyes.
It matters when we show up. It matters for a long time.
The girls and I went back into the competition and Katie danced her solo. I sat up front and caught her eye. Those eyes twinkled back at me. She danced beautifully and was jubilant after her performance. Then, she realized that Karoline had accidentally missed seeing her dance. She fell apart, a sobbing mess in the dressing room. "I've been to all her rehearsals and she's been to all of mine. We've worked together. How could she miss it??!!" Karoline fell apart, too. She was genuinely heartbroken to have missed it. Some of the drama, no doubt, was just plain fatigue. But most of it was this: We are a family woven together by the sharing of experiences. Being there matters.
Showing up is for both of us: parent and child. When we show up, we share the big moments; that's true. We share the highs and the lows. But we also share the little moments. We're there when they lean in to whisper a little thing. We're there when they want to snuggle in the dark. We're there to giggle late into the night as if we were all ten years old. We're there. And they know that they can find us when they need us.
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{the view from my lap}
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I started making plans for a very early departure the next morning. A teacher happily volunteered to take my big girls, get them to Mass, and then to competition. They needed to be there all day, but they were only in two large group dances and Mary Beth wasn't even dancing. I wouldn't miss much and they both wanted me to be at Nick's game. Another friend volunteered to get them home. We'd stay in touch all day via text message.
I tucked sleepy little girls into the van and took off into the still dark fog. We took the "long way" in hopes of avoiding the traffic that had been so persistent. Sarah was predictably carsick and that set me back about half an hour. Providentially, the game before Nick's went into overtime and then penalty kicks, which put me there right on time--4 hours after leaving the hotel.
It was a good game, a glorious afternoon. Nick is the goalkeeper and he shut out the opposition. His coach called him the "Backbone of the Team" and awarded him the Champions trophy. For the little brother, it was a Very Big Deal.
We gathered as an extended family for a celebration dinner and then got stuck in ridiculous traffic all the way drove home.
Granddad can no longer get there on his own, but get there he does. Always.
My dad and stepmom. They've witnessed the highs and lows and fully appreciate the enormity of State Cup Championships.
Sweet girl is a good sport. Late night, early morning, long drive--she was sound asleep the moment Daddy lifted her into his lap.
He took his place behind the goal and there he stayed. He's been in this little brother's ear since the day he was born. This day was no different.
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Big brothers: Christian, Stephen, Patrick and Zach--all determined to do what they could do from behind the fence. Christian got a ride from Harrisonburg and made it in time for kickoff. (Zach isn't "really" a brother, of course. Zach is Patrick's roommate. They were on the US National Team together and now they are together at UVa. Since Zach's from Michigan, he spends breaks and weekends at our house. Zach and Paddy are living in Charlottesville this summer.There was about a month's gap between moving out of the dorms and into their apartment, so they're living with Grandpa and Barbara. Hence, Zach's a brother;-)
This is the moment when the whistle blew and the championship was sealed. It's pretty fun that Nick had the ball in his hand!
This is the State Cup Squeeze. The last time there was a State Cup Champion, Sarah was asleep in a front pack. She slept through the celebratory hug that time, too.
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For our family, showing up is often about sports and dance. But it's also about sacraments. And birthdays. It's about the impromptu balloons and steak supper the very day after the State Cup when Christian received happy news.
It's about stting in the parking lot while they practice in the rain, sitting in the dance studio for the fourth hour on a Monday because she wants you there to help her change her shoes. For some families, it's about a hike every Sunday or about an hour every day dedicated to the garden; it's the Boy Scout campout in the biting cold or the trek to the debate tournament.
Sometimes, we miss things. Honestly, lots of times, we miss things. There are nine of them and two of us. It's logistically challenging never to miss. But we are intentional and wholehearted in our attempts to be there. Showing up is what we teach our children. Families are there for one another. Showing up is the default mode. We plan to show up.
Because it matters.
I have no sewing to report this week and really, no reading either.
I've done a lot of this:
{photo credit: Karoline}
head on one of those awesome cozies, inhaling essential oils and trying hard to clear my sinuses.
Regardless of the state of my head, I do have a small sewing task to complete today. I need to sew these patches on these jerseys. The jerseys are made of that wicking athletic polyester. The patches don't have any sticky backing or anything else exceptional about them. Both the patches and the jerseys are irreplaceable though, so I'm open to advice about the proper way to do this. Would someone tell me exactly the right way to sew these on to the sleeves? (And yes, I now have given away the ending to my State Cup post. But I'm still going to write it up;-)
What have you been up to? I think I have another day on the couch to just click around. What's happening in the sewing world? have you seen any great ideas? New fabrics? Fun inspiration? Please pass it along:-)
I'm Elizabeth. I'm a happy wife and the mother of nine children. I grab grace with both hands and write to encourage myself and others to seize and nurture the joy of every day. I blog here with my daughter, Mary Beth, a wholehearted young lady on the brink of adulthood.
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