6.4.14

Bread is the Word.

Some people wear emblems on jewelry, or as a tatoo: It might say,

Peace. 
Or Light.
or Love
or Om
or something in chinese that is supposed to mean one the above words.


and no explanation is needed.  You seet it.  You get it.  It may even inspire you.

Well,
My new favorite piece of jewelry has raised a few eyebrows and I feel I need to expalain:



That's right.  This chubby girl is walking around with a necklace that says "Bread 2014".


It's not because I love bread (even though I really, really do).

At Christmastime, My grandparents challenged each of us to look at all the names in the scriptures that have been given to Jesus Christ.  (The Savior, The Redeemer, The Holy one of Israel, The living Water, The Bread of Life, etc etc).  Then we were challenged to pick one, and look for ways in which Jesus fulfills that name.

I'm embarrassed to even write this, but this name stuck out to me partially because  I have been struggling with my weight ever since Bo was born, and it was becoming a real negative focus in my life.  The instant I read "bread of life" in relation to the Savior I realized that I am really missing something.  It wasn't just that I was carrying extra weight.  I just wasn't well in general.  I realized in that moment,

My focus needs to shift in a big way. 

Fast forward a week or so into the New Year, and I received an email from my mother in law asking me and all my sisters in law to pick a focus word for the year.

Not wanting to be overwhelmed by too many resolutions,  I timidly submitted "Bread" with an explanation, knowing that it didn't sound that pretty.

About a month later I received this wonderful gift.  My necklace.  It came at a time when I was losing my initial zeal for the name I had chosen and it rekindled my desire to focus on this name.


I love my necklace! Such a sweet and thoughtful gift.  My husband loves to tease me about it ("Mmmmm, bread!" he says, whenever he sees me wear it).

I am making a goal to submit something I learned about "Bread" each week (hopefully)...


24.3.14

Monday's Memoir: Mercy Me! (Mercy You.)

I went before the King
bowed, begged, pleaded
pure in intent, hope
despite knowing the impossibility
of restitution in even a lifetime of servitude.

I asked

and all was forgiven.

all.

but when I returned to my day
I noticed, like a piece of food stuck in my teeth,
a gnawing irritation.
an injustice, which

every so often I would pick at
and my irritation would grow.
my soul would burn
with self-righteous entitlement, for

I was right.  I had been wronged.
There was no relief, no changing this.

It wasn't until I told the first story out loud
(about my insurmountable debt that was forgiven
by that great King)

did I see it.

How could I miss it?



What does being right have to do with anything?   
When mercy has been poured over me in full abundance, 
surely I have some wealth to share.

I am no widow clutching her last mite,
no
this mercy, this forgiveness?
infinite

I laughed inside at the thought - the ease of letting it go.
I was light.
I was free.
I was sorry for my blindness.
Best of all, I was filled with love.
and so it was  
Mercy bestowed to me, in even greater proportion.

That was a sweet Sunday.
That was yesterday. 

{Matt. 18:21-35}
 

5.1.14

10 things I've learned in 2 days:


1.  Bo calls feathers "fly" 


2.  After 16 years, I finally succeeded at making a yummy pot roast.   I hope it wasn't dumb luck. 

3.  Flannel sheets are the BEST.  The BEST, I say.
4.  There is such a thing called "Glacial Silt" - and it makes quicksand sound like a cake walk.
5.  Blogging at night leaves me tired and not wanting to post.
6.  My 1970s house comes equipped with this bad boy.  It's a heat lamp on the ceiling in the bathroom.  I really like it.  


7. Bo's new favorite thing is to put bubbles on his chin right when he gets Into the bath. 

8.  Teenagers like to talk to parents.  Mine do, anyway- Usually when I'm laying in bed at night.  But it's a sweet surprise and I am grateful for the time with them. 

9.  My list of potential excuses for not getting in shape got quite a bit smaller.  I got a trainer for my bike. 

10.  I realized that I've become a baby lady.  I loooovve them.  I used to be really scared of babies.  But look at some of our newest family members:  Aren't my nieces the sweetest?  I wish I had taken a picture of my nephew while he was here.  He's such a charmer, with the warmest smile.  Heart melting.   


3.1.14

Have you ever fallen asleep while saying your prayers?

How about mid morning?  It was 10am before I got to saying my prayers and I woke up kneeling at my bed to the sound of Bo asking "codor?" --he was holding a pencil in his hand.  I haven't found where he "codored",  yet...


so this is going to be a sleepy and sloppy post.  

  today Bo was in full swing toddle-mode, I'd say...


Haha, this picture cracks me up.  

By 430pm, I felt likeit really, really should be bedtime.  It was the kind of day where you feed your toddler refried beans and corn chips, sprinkled with sixlets candies.  He started with an orange so I feel no guilt.  


...

It has taken me three days to figure out where my holiday husband has gone.  He's been acting different... Oh yes, holiday is over and it's back to work and that requires some sobriety.  He's such a good man.  


I believe him when he says he would be the most impressive, honorable 
And even affable man of means and leisure there ever was.  He says it with a laugh, but he's kind of serious.  I know people often speak of Mr.  Darcy as this silver tongued hottie-  but if you've read the book, you would know that he is pensive, no nonsense, and abrupt-  all while being so good, full of integrity and a possessing a compassionate heart.   Put him in a frilly shirt and trousers, on a massive estate with beautiful English gardens, and my handsome Sam is as close as it gets.  


...finally,
As I try to wrap up this post, I am once again interrupted by my daughter's excited explanations of the episode of Dr. Who she is currently watching.  I blame all grammatical and spelling mistakes onthese many  interruptions.  To say she is a fan, is not saying enough.    She's fun. 


Day three.  My life is good.  We are safe.  I am grateful.  

2.1.14

Recalling the day:

The highlight was listening to Dad (Sam) make up love poems with words that had changed endings.  You know, so it would rhyme with some girl's name that our boys new.  We laughed a lot. 

Another image, is that of a woman who I just met.  Who is brave and fun and tries so hard to be good.  She is a mother.  She has heartache somewhere.  I can see that, too.  She has shown love and kindness to me from the start.  I found a treasure, is what happened.

There are other things lurking.  Things like insecurity and even suspicion.  But, I am trying to not feed those thoughts.  I am trying to try and be a good girl, I am.  That's as clear as I'm going to get on that topic.

I am missing the clean air... I'm not depressed though, because I found this autumn photo, taken from my porch and know pretty days will come round again: 


That was a great moment, too. 




1.1.14

The best year

Started today, because when I went to drop off Eddie at the slopes this morning, I was caught up in the beauty of the winter mountains and the following text ensued: 


I love that at a moment's notice, my husband was willing to hold down the fort all day so that I could have some spontaneous fun.   

***
Also, as I watched my 15 year old shove an enormous forkful of rolled up ramen with green onions into his mouth, my heart swelled with gratitude for being able to watch such a sweet boy grow up.  That I get to call him mine.  This very tall, deep voiced, dimple-faced, son of mine.  

It is these things, and easily 50 others today that make me think; 

Oh yes.   This is one of the good years.  

Happy 2014!!!  

14.10.13

Baby Dear

I hold him at night
and sometimes pretend
it's every one of my babies
because I ache for each and every one
of those tiny bodies
warm against my heart
nuzzling those soft jawlines
again and for always.

Oh the sweet days past.

But really,
I am so tired.
It's the middle of the night, for heaven's sake
and
to do it again
would be utterly exhausting.

what a lovely paradox a baby brings to the night time.


11.10.13

A Daily Prayer

What makes raising teenagers so scary?
It's because

they start to grow up
branch out
seek their own way

AND
they aren't ready
they know so little about life -
They aren't ready
(I'm not ready)

but it's coming,
the essential and beautiful breakaway

All that is left undone,
Is done. no makeup days.

so you just start with today
look them in the eyes
Love, Love, Love

Teaching, speaking ever so gently (no, even more gently)

Here - you see more than ever-
here are the days when Charity,
that pure love which comes from
He who alone can do the saving

is the greatest of teachers, and the only way that will work-
patience
prayer (lots of prayer)
long suffering
kindness in words, in deed
and also, 
attempts to raise the dead in the morning, and in despair, and in the face of discouragement

It is a holy work
and when I kneel at night
I express gratitude for one more day
one more blessed day to get it right
Help me, I plead.
Help me forgive
Help me to be quick to express happiness, praise, goodness, peace -
Help me LOOK and understand
Help me to know what to do

Because I'm still that kid
who is feeling her own way
and I just want to get this right, despite my weakness.

Oh, my weakness.  Glaring in the face of offspring who are now eye level -
they see them all, more clearly then ever. 

Is it hard?  Raising teenagers?
I don't wish away one moment,

I am so fond of these young people.

In those quiet nights (and mornings and lunchtimes) when my prayers are most earnest
I remember:

I will always be their mother.
It's okay.
You have now.
It's enough time.
Write this day on your heart,  It is a gift just for you,  you blessed (and loved) girl.

and remember,

The sweetest season is the one you're in.
you know this, but only it if you pay attention and filter your days with gratitude.

So pay attention.




6.7.13

What it Means to Love a Good Man

He wakes each morning
with a fast and heavy breathing
it wakes me with a sense of panic

He gets up
That lionhearted soul
determined to slay the dragon of that day

for me
for mine

And at night
His breath is deep like thunder
rumbles about the room

I try to contain my own heavy breathing
lungs struggling to stifle tears
of gratitude
of amazement
of pleading in prayer

He needs his sleep
He needs to be rested

10.2.13

I Was Skimming Through

a blog I like.  This person decided to take a portrait of each of her children once a week for the year.  It was her New Year's Resolution. 

I loved that idea.  Then I meandered onto my blogger dashboard and realized that not only have I not blogged in quite some time, but that my last post was a bit depressing.  And it wasn't about my cute baby!  What?! 

Samuel Bowen is 8 months old.  Already.  I just can't believe it.  He changes so fast.  And I know my other children do too.  I may have to adopt this "once a week photo" resolution. 


I guess for today, I will post some photos of Bo.  Some of my relatives don't do Instagram, and so don't see the many pictures I take of my baby, and have requested that I post some.

Here are a couple for now (from his younger days - last summer).  I promise to add more soon!