Snowed in or out as it were....

So true:
Remarked to me by my nine year old son today upon our first big snow storm -
"Snow sure wouldn't be such a treat if you lived in Alaska. And recess would really suck because I bet they wouldn't let you even throw a snowball. You'd probably be lucky if you got to build a snowman. It's pretty great for us though, huh, mom?"

Pretty good perspective...

All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

Every once in awhile one of my kids says or asks something, which is very innocuous at the basic level, but then the more it rolls around in my head, the more profound it seems. I often wonder if the depth of what their statements conveys is known only to me or if I read into things too much. A little of both, I guess. At this point in my life, as we all embark on a new Lent, it feels more like God talking. So, here's a little portion of how a conversation went with Jackson (age 9) today...maybe it'll speak to you.

I'm folding laundry as Jackson curls up on the couch and asks, "How come we don't celebrate Mardi Gras?"

"Hmmm," I am thinking, "well, we sort-of have before. Remember last year at CLC (my internship congregation), when we had the Pancake Supper? That was on Mardi Gras or Shrove Tuesday. It happens the day before Ash Wednesday." I am fully aware that my answer is insufficient and don't go into spiritual disciplines of fasting, remembering we are dust, and simplification. For some reason I think it's just too much for him (maybe it's the mom in me protecting his self-esteem - yes, I know...pride can be a sin...).

Jackson says, "But why eat pancakes before Ash Wednesday?" Exactly what I was trying to avoid. "Okay, here it goes," I am thinking. So, I say, "Well, Ash Wednesday is the day we start Lent, which is the 40 days which lead up to Easter. And during Lent we remember and try to focus on God and what has been done for us in Jesus. We try to simplify things. So, people eat pancakes before Lent as their last chance for awhile to over-indulge."

Jackson innocently states, "So, I guess we're not going to be having pancakes for awhile?" I laugh and say, "No, we can have pancakes..." He says (and this is what I love because it's simple and profound ), "Yeah, I guess we could have pancakes, but definitely no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' - that's definitely out of the question."

So - no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' for Lent, no 'it's all about me', no satisfying myself with things which ultimately don't satisfy. I'm hoping during Lent this year I can sit simply with God at the sparseness of the foot of the cross and be fed on the simple offering of bread and wine - then I really will be full.

Warm Weather Friends

Last week the weather was incredibly warm here in Washington DC. It seemed to be that way across the nation. In a matter of days, we went from 7 degrees to almost 70 degrees.

My running partner and I were out one morning and she said, "Listen. It's a bird - a sign of spring." It really did sound like spring, and with the warmer weather, even at 5:30 in the morning, it felt like spring.

I said, "Yeah, it's just a tease though. I can't really enjoy it because I know it's not going to stick around."

"I don't know. I think of it more as a respite. We have 7 more weeks of winter regardless - might as well get a break to help us get through the rest of it," she said.

Hmmm.....a respite, not a tease. I think she's on to something. Enjoy the moment. Take the gift that offered. I consider myself a "half-glass full" kind of person, but in that moment I realized I was wishing parts of my life away just because they are filled with darker, colder days. And - when I was given the respite, the chance to bask in a little warmth, I wouldn't even take it in because I knew it wouldn't last.

I've had some darker days, some days that I wish had never happened. I think we all have. I've also seen some amazing things come out of the darkness and cold. Do I wish some of those harsh winds hadn't blown into my life? Yes. Have I seen beautiful gifts of warmth and song come about? Yes. Is there a certain sweetness to the smell of spring in the very midst of death? I think so.

You know, the cold weather's back. The respite is over. But I have this new perspective. The twist of it all is: having had the warmth, having had the break, having had the brief encounter with tranquility and birds singing, I know it'll be back again. And that, that promise of good things to return is something to hold onto. It's not a tease of something you can't have for good, but a promise of what is always around the bend.

Green Beans

The other day I bought a new snack at Trader Joe's...green beans. Now, these are not your regular, run-of-the-mill green beans. They are crunchy and salty and very tasty, did I mention they are fried in canola oil. So, essentially, they are a potato chip made out of a green bean. I sort of fooled myself into thinking it's healthy, it's a green bean. But seriously, with 7% of the daily value of fat and salt, how healthy can they still be? They were at one time good for me, but then, something went terribly wrong (okay, yes, I am being a little dramatic)....but why is it we go and mess with things which are perfectly good as they are? A green bean is just a little example, but we all have our own personal and global examples of when we try to "fix" or "improve" something and it ends up either becoming something unhealthy or just worse than it was. And sometimes, I don't even think we realize we are doing it. Often our intentions are good. I guess what the green beans made me think about is how much time we spend altering and fixing and improving things, rather than appreciating and accepting and listening. Just a thought.



This is not me (way too profound for anything I would write), but Dante: "When he had slowed the hectic pace that mars the dignity of any action, my mind, at first withdrawn into itself, now eagerly took in the wider landscape."



So, what do I do about the green beans? Love 'em or toss 'em? It's a little quandary I'm in...because I am not really sure I can make a stand on a green bean, but they could cause me to slow down and take in the bigger picture.

What more could one ask for?

Cooper to me:
"Mom, you're the best mom in the whole galazy!"

Me to Cooper:
"I have the best kids in the whole galaxy!" (I can't say he's the best, because what about the other two - so this way, I'm covered.

Cooper to me:
"I love you all the way to heaven. All the way to God's house and then all the way until the whole thing ends."

Me - speechless. Can't top that - just take it in.

Here's praying in the new year you each have someone to love you all the way until the whole thing ends.

26.2

26.2

Not long ago I ran the Marine Corps marathon. I have been running long distance since high school, and this was my first. For as long as I can remember I've said how much I wanted to run one. Around mile 7 I told my running partner that I felt as if I would cry, because I was so happy. I think I had a smile on my face for the first 13 miles. Every step felt like one step closer to the fulfillment of a dream. Then, the pain started to set in...and at mile 19 I was pretty sure I couldn't make it. But, I kept plugging along - putting one step in front of the other and I finally got there - crossing the finish line, holding hands with my running partner.

But, here's what I've been thinking about a lot these past few days (especially today). The marathon - those 26.2 miles I ran - that was the easy part. It was the short part. The hard part was actually the months leading up to the race. I didn't want to just run it - I wanted to do well. I wanted to qualify. The long runs on Saturdays (22 miles), logging miles at 5:30am every morning, and the speed work on Thursdays - that was where the work really was.

The race was just the culmination of a whole lot of sweat, exhaustion, and perseverance. I am so thankful I could enjoy the race - that I smiled and cried, that I took in the sunshine and the music, that I ate the free jelly beans and felt a rush dashing through Georgetown. It's what I worked for and it was over so fast.

Sometimes I think we focus so much on the goal of getting to something, that when it finally gets here, we forget to enjoy it and then it's gone. The it, whatever that may be, becomes something to check off, rather than something to celebrate. I'm trying to remind myself of this right now with Christmas upon us, with my semester coming to a close, with my kids growing up so fast.... I don't want it to be gone and wonder where did it go.

I wonder what it would actually be like if we really celebrated Christmas; if we really celebrated accomplishments, even if it's as small as learning to tie shoes; if we really celebrated the joy of family and friends. Who really cares if the Christmas tree cut-out cookie actually has green sprinkles on it? Maybe, just maybe letting lose and making it a red tree this year is okay. Maybe it is more fun to order a pizza, so we have time to chat with friends, rather than spend the whole night in the kitchen. And, it really is a big deal when you learn how to tie your shoes or know all your multiplication facts. Because the fact is, most of life is the training part of the marathon - the sweat, the tears, and the exhaustion, so when we get the opportunity to bask in the warmth of friends and family, love and laughter may we take it all in. Celebrate the 26.2!

Stating the Obvious...

I have not really been asleep at the wheel (or the computer, so to speak), but mass quantities of school work have occupied my life. Stay tuned...five days until the end of the semester and then I will have time to ponder the wonders of life. Until then, no pondering, just producing papers.