Is it Easter yet?

There are very few "Easter" pictures of my children on my camera. Since the week of Ash Wednesday, we having been waging war with adenovirus. And I'm telling you with all sincerity, it's one formidable foe. I have never encountered a childhood illness that lingers so long with such fierce intensity. There have been all the usual things: croup, bronchitis, vomiting, body aches, fever. And then, we have been visited by the more extreme manifestations, particularly swollen, oozy, eyes that drip blood for weeks on end. Every morning, I keep hoping that everyone will awaken and no one will require assistance just getting his or her eyes to open. 

We had one bluebell day all together. And we had one bluebell day where several children stayed home and I went with the others to meet some ladies from the Restore Workshop. And that is all. Usually, we take a week and go every day. This year, we'd planned to camp there overnight. There are amazing flowers blooming on perfectly gorgeous spring days! And my children are so light sensitive that hardly anyone wants to be there. So we stay home.

So, in these days, I am particularly grateful for the tree blooming outside my front window. I'm inhaling its loveliness. (Well, actually, I hold my breath and just look at it because Bradford pear blooms are pretty stinky.) I am beyond grateful (what is the word for that?), that 90 tulip bulbs planted when Granddad died are showing up in all kinds of glory this week. Could it be that they heard that a baby is on her way and they've all come out to greet her?

And that baby... we are eagerly awaiting her arrival. Every day, Kristin comes to pass the time here. A tiny bit of sewing, some time in the garden, a daily walk where we just talk and talk. These are the tender mericies, the glimpses of Easter.

The Church has sung its Alleluia. I sort of feel like I missed it. Then I remember: Easter is a season. 

New life. Happening soon.

By far, my favorite Easter basket ever. I think Garry Brix captured Shawn so perfectly!

If you have a moment, would you ask St. Lucy to say a prayer for us?

Waiting, watching...

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Before the feast of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come
to pass from this world to the Father.
He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end.
The devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over.
So, during supper, 
fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power 
and that he had come from God and was returning to God, 
he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin 
and began to wash the disciples’ feet 
and dry them with the towel around his waist.
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 
“Master, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus answered and said to him,
“What I am doing, you do not understand now,
but you will understand later.”
Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered him, 
“Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”
Simon Peter said to him, 
“Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.”
Jesus said to him, 
“Whoever has bathed has no need except to have his feet washed,
for he is clean all over; 
so you are clean, but not all.”
For he knew who would betray him;
for this reason, he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

So when he had washed their feet 
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again, 
he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, 
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow, 
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

 

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So they took Jesus, and, carrying the cross himself, 
he went out to what is called the Place of the Skull, 
in Hebrew, Golgotha.
There they crucified him, and with him two others, 
one on either side, with Jesus in the middle.
Pilate also had an inscription written and put on the cross.
It read,
“Jesus the Nazorean, the King of the Jews.”
Now many of the Jews read this inscription, 
because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; 
and it was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek.
So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, 
“Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’
but that he said, ‘I am the King of the Jews’.”
Pilate answered,
“What I have written, I have written.”

When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, 
they took his clothes and divided them into four shares, 
a share for each soldier.
They also took his tunic, but the tunic was seamless, 
woven in one piece from the top down.
So they said to one another, 
“Let’s not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it will be, “ 
in order that the passage of Scripture might be fulfilled that says:
They divided my garments among them,
and for my vesture they cast lots.
This is what the soldiers did.
Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother
and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary of Magdala.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved
he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple,
“Behold, your mother.”
And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

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After this, aware that everything was now finished, 
in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled, 
Jesus said, “I thirst.”
There was a vessel filled with common wine.
So they put a sponge soaked in wine on a sprig of hyssop 
and put it up to his mouth.
When Jesus had taken the wine, he said,
“It is finished.”
And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit.

Now since it was preparation day,
in order that the bodies might not remain on the cross on the sabbath,
for the sabbath day of that week was a solemn one, 
the Jews asked Pilate that their legs be broken 
and that they be taken down.
So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first 
and then of the other one who was crucified with Jesus.
But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, 
they did not break his legs, 
but one soldier thrust his lance into his side, 
and immediately blood and water flowed out.
An eyewitness has testified, and his testimony is true; 
he knows that he is speaking the truth, 
so that you also may come to believe.
For this happened so that the Scripture passage might be fulfilled:
Not a bone of it will be broken.
And again another passage says:
They will look upon him whom they have pierced.

After this, Joseph of Arimathea, 
secretly a disciple of Jesus for fear of the Jews, 
asked Pilate if he could remove the body of Jesus.
And Pilate permitted it.
So he came and took his body.
Nicodemus, the one who had first come to him at night, 
also came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes 
weighing about one hundred pounds.
They took the body of Jesus 
and bound it with burial cloths along with the spices, 
according to the Jewish burial custom.
Now in the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, 
and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had yet been buried.
So they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish preparation day; 
for the tomb was close by.

 

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Shhh. It's a Secret (but tell everybody)

Hey, come close! Let's hatch a secret plan;-). My sweet friend, Colleen Mitchell celebrated a birthday yesterday. It was kind of a lonely affair down on the mission field in Costa Rica. Today, she and her men are off to the jungle for three days, bringing gospel joy to the indigenous folks who are their neighbors. They will be far from internet access. While they are out, might we send some birthday love her way? An anonymous donor has promised to match donations made to The St. Bryce Foundation, up to $500. Wouldn't it be *grand* for Colleen to see $1K in the St. Bryce account in honor of her birthday when she returns to the mission house for Easter? As we set to walk the days of the Triduum together in the comfort of our parishes, can we offer alms to this mission and to a family we dearly love? Nothing is too small a donation. There's an easy peasy button at the St. Bryce site. (You can even wish Colleen a happy birthday in the notes section). Please party plan with me! And share, share, share this post. She's in the jungle--she won't see it until we've all shown up to share the love. 

Go here to donate, please, please, please!

(and thank you)

Yesterday...

She played with fabric. I played with my camera. Together, we waited.

I can't help but sit back in awed wonder.

For all of time, we've done this--women gathering.

Sharing stories.

Passing time.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Praying.

And yet with each birth,

it must feel new.

Bluebells and Baby Talk

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I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

Yesterday was perfectly beautiful! Sunshine and a breeze, bluebells and fairy spuds, and a body of water begging our uninhibited play. We took about 300 pictures. I asked Mary Beth to upload a few. What you see above is what she chose. And you can't even tell it's bluebell season. We began the day with a long walk around the Bluebell Trail. There were plenty of flowers there, though it's not yet peak bloom. Then, we went and plopped down at our favorite creekside spot--the one that is  fairly short walk from the parking lot so we didn't have to haul all the food and water and photo equipment down the longer trail. And we discovered that a very large swathe of bluebells and trees had been obliterated. Not sure what "progress" is planned there, but it certainly doesn't look as glorious as the tableau God created. Makes me sad. And also determined to add some flower pictures to the end of this post.

::listening to 

rain and birds outdoors and utter silence inside. Yesterday ended in sleepovers--lots of children with "fresh air poisoning" are still sleeping hard this morning.

::clothing myself in 

Capris and a T-shirt  of Mike's. The temperature is due to drop 40 degrees over the course of this day. I'm sure my summer sleepwear will gvie way to jeans and a sweatshirt before the day is finished. 

::talking with my children about these books

Bull Run Regional Park (our bluebells playground) is right next to the Bull Run Battlefield. We've punged into a Civil War reading binge for the next few weeks. In addition to Ken Burns' series and this fun book to get us going, we're reading these great books, from a previous year's Civil War study. I started to cut and paste them here, but this post already has the potential to be ridiculously long.

 

::thinking and thinking

about babies. Kristin is due any day. I love babies. I love pregnancy and childbirth and, with one exception, I really love postpartum, too. I have a million things I want to share with her. Things that beg to bubble up and over in a rush of enthusiasm. I'm sure she feels like I've shared a million things. But I haven't. Probably I've shared about a hundred. The rest I ponder in my heart. (Or mention to Mary Beth;-). 

::pondering prayerfully

"We need saints without cassocks, without veils - we need saints with jeans and
tennis shoes. We need saints that go to the movies that listen to music, that hang
out with their friends (...) We need saints that drink Coca-Cola, that eat hot dogs,
that surf the internet and that listen to their iPods. We need saints that love the
Eucharist, that are not afraid or embarrassed to eat a pizza or drink a beer with
their friends. We need saints who love the movies, dance, sports, theatre. We
need saints that are open, sociable, normal, happy companions. We need saints
who are in this world and who know how to enjoy the best in this world without
being callous or mundane. We need saints”."
– Quoted by Pope Francis at World Youth Day 2013 Or maybe not...

::carefully cultivating rhythm

These are our blubebell days. This is Holy Week. We are going to have a new baby in this family within a week. Still, there is rhythm. The days begin with deep draughts of Jesus. You should see the view from my "Bible chair." Oh, wait, I'll show you:

So, it's a little difficult to get up and get going. I'd like to just sit here all day and look at that tree and journey with Jesus to the tomb and on to Glory. But the bluebells are blooming and the greatest feast of the Christian year approaches and, well, sitting isn't really for moms. So, the rhythm of the ordinary--laundry, groceries, even some lessons--is woven into the extraordinary: bluebells, babies, and resurrection. 

This is a pretty amazing time of life.

::creating by hand

over the winter, I created a workshop. I poured heart and soul into it and I felt God's hand guiding mine as I typed. It was a pretty wonderful creative experience. The workshop is nearly over and I can honestly say I've never spent a lovelier, more Spirit-filled time online. 

And now that those words are all said, I'm turning my attention to baby sewing and baby knitting that didn't happen. Maybe, just maybe I'll get some of it finished before our granddaughter appears.

 ::learning lessons in

community

::encouraging learning 

in time management.  Mary Beth is taking classes at our local college for dual enrollment credit. I consider these classes to be such a great gem in our high school homeschool experience. I am able to guide them very practically through the acquisition of skills necessary to succeed in college. She's been a joy to work with and her classes this semester have been thoughtfully presented. Still, learning to balance un moveable deadlines is a skill that homeschoolers don't have have. Until they do;-).

::clicking around

So, I've had very little online time at all this year. I spent January and February really focused on writing the workshop. I spent March on the workshop and some very intense weeks traveling back and forth to Charlottesville. And April? April is whipping by in a blur of bluebells and (hopefully soon) baby. The full step back from the online world has yielded some unexpected perspective. 

About 4 years ago, the internet didn't seem like a very friendly place to me. I had grown wary of nearly every click. Comboxes were especially terrifying. I tried to navigate around those uneasy feelings and I kind of limped along on old paths. With this break, I've had a chance to reframe from focus, to come back and explore and discover the online world of motherhood anew. I've also broken in a new computer and it doesn't know any of the old, haunting places. I'm visiting a few, friendly, familiar places and I'm finding some new-to-me ones. I'm even venturing into comboxes and enjoying conversation in mine. Mostly though, I'm limiting myself to just a few minutes a day and I'm very intentional about spending those moments only in places that encourage me and challenge me to better live my vocation. What are some of your favorite places to visit online?

::begging prayers

for Michael and Kristin and Baby Girl.

for cancer patients and for all the people who love them. Cancer is a hideous, horrible disease and watching it devour someone you love is incredibly painful.

for all the intentions of our prayer community. (I promise to be more faithful to our weekly posts, starting this week!)

For college students, especially the ones who are lonely and feel forgotten.

::keeping house

We managed to pull off some of my lofty Lenten cleaning plans. The garage is in great shape, comparatively speaking. We've deep cleaned some cabinets and closets and Ithought I had the laundry monster under control. Last night, though, I noticed that it has reared its ugle head  yet again in the little girls' room. I think they just have way too many clothes. Or something. I'm not sure what.

::crafting in the kitchen 

I think it's a good day to come up with an Easter menu. Got any great ideas?

::loving the moments

When I can sit in the sun with a friend and watch my kids romp in the water. Love those moments so very much!

::giving thanks 

for Joy Messimer, who took my Restore Workshop ideas and made something tangible and beautiful of the words. She's such a blessing.

living the liturgy

These are very liturgically dense days. The altar serving schedule, the youth group schedule, the straddling still between two parishes and the wanting to be at the basilica downtown, but not wanting to be too far should Baby Girl decide that Easter is a great birthday--it doesn't get much richer than this, if only I see the richness and not mistake it for complicated tangles.

::planning for the week ahead

The bluebells.

Easter.

Kristin is due April 17th and they won't let her go more than a week, so... we're going to get to hold a newborn this week!