Spring

 How I love a sunny day in Spring! The cows escaped today, and after having some fun with them in the yard (Emily was riding one like a horse!), Ben and I fixed the fence. Down at the barn my spirits soared when I saw that the Barn Swallows have made their return!! I am so happy that we can provide a nesting site for these lovely birds. They are the ultimate recyclers, as they reuse the same nests every year.

We've been having lots of eggs for breakfast....it's that time of year. Is there any comparison between the rich golden color of a farm egg and the pale yellow color of a store egg? Now I know all eggs come from farms, but that's how my kids distinguish food grown at home and food from the store....farm egg or store egg, cow's milk or store milk. Mary Margaret couldn't believe it (just last year) that the milk sold in stores comes from cows, too!

The children spent most of the day making a "village." They all made forts...Emily and Sam were running a flower and sandwich shop, and Oliver was the banker. They stayed busy all day in their forts, while I cleaned inside..with the windows open!

Here are the flowers bagged up to sell...amongst the hundreds of cans of tomatoes I bought dirt cheap at Martin's in the fall. I had actually bought two tubs that size, but we have used one of the tubs.

The children made their 'stores' in the basement and the surrounding out buildings...

A friend of mine told me about the Weight Watcher's cabbage soup...It is delicious. Sure to become a favorite!

I hope you are enjoying Spring, and that wherever this day finds you, you will have many blessed moments~

Finding Faith At The Dump

The car was in reverse and my foot was on the gas. I was in a hurry; I had just emptied trash cans and had even cleaned the loose trash out of the car.

As I was pulling out, the sunlight landed on the railing, playing tricks on my eyes. "That almost looks like a cross," I thought, seeing the fuzzy outline of a crucifix by the dumpster. "No..." I thought that with my mind so much on Lent ,I was surely seeing things. I pulled back into the lot and stopped the car.

I walked over to the dumpster and there He was...broken, crumbling, metal jutting out- thoughtfully laid out by someone on a wooden railing. There was something in the heart of the person who brought this maimed crucifix to the dump;  there is something  inherently wrong about throwing away even an image of Jesus, no matter how disfigured, no matter how disintegrated.

I didn't know what I could do with this broken crucifix, but I knew I couldn't leave it by the dump. Surely someone would come along and carelessly toss it in. I picked it up, and the pieces of plaster sifted through my hands.

I came home and placed it on the table...just laid it out, parts pieced together. All the children were curious. They couldn't understand what Jesus was doing down at the dump. Who would put Him there?

And I thought about that. "Who would put Jesus at the dump?" Don't I put Jesus at the dump on a regular basis? I see the glory, the Easter Resurrection, the hope of Heaven...but do I embrace the suffering and disfigured Christ on the cross? Do I look on the true horror and ugliness, the price of my salvation? Or do I cast it off, a crucifix at the dump. Like the person who laid the cross next to the dumpster, I can't bring myself to completely dismiss Jesus' suffering; I conveniently lay it aside, hoping to not have to deal with that cross, that pain.

Sam instinctively places fingers in "wounds," and I am Thomas. Thomas, the questioning disciple. Thomas, who had to feel the wounds to believe. Thomas, whose faith was only satisfied in the flesh and blood. Sometimes the only way to find the fullness of faith is to wrap ourselves around those very wounds, touching the flesh every day, embracing the pain each moment.

"No pain, no gain. No cross, no crown. No Gall, no glory."
~ William Penn

And God, in His abundant mercy, is so patient with us. Every day He teaches us and nurtures faith in our souls, if we will only follow. I keep my crucifix on the table. It will remain there until Easter, a constant reminder of what Jesus did for me, for you, for humanity. Christ is everywhere and can be found in all places- even at a roadside dumpster.

Your Child IS Gifted!

Remember when I wrote a little while back that I was wanting to write about the 'giftedness' of all children? I haven't been inspired to do so yet....until today. Somehow a copy of "Parents" magazine ended up in my mailbox; I definitely did not order it, as I have never cared much for the publication.

After wondering why this magazine came to me, I turned my attention to the cover :"How To Tell If Your Child Is Gifted."  Wow. Can you picture a young mother reading this and quickly turning to the right page to determine the extent of her child's gifts? Or...maybe her child isn't even gifted at all, but here's how to tell.

So I turn to the article, and how convenient: There's a chart titled : "Is Your Child Gifted Or Just Smart?" Seriously? I can read a little box chart in "Parents" magazine to find out if I have just an average smart kid or an OOH 'gifted' child.


The article discusses different options for 'gifted' children and claims that "the lack of options for gifted kids may be due to the ambivalence Americans feel about anything that smacks of elitism." (p63) Excuse me? Schools aren't good enough for some kids because no- one wants to admit how amazing those kids are? Is it just me...or is this extremely offensive?

I'm no big fan of  Amy Chua, the "Tiger mother," but I will say one thing in her defense: In her mind every child is "gifted." Every child can do it. And isn't this true? Aren't all children 'gifted' in their own ways? Howard Gardner in his book, Multiple Intelligences,  expounds on his theory that all children have gifts, or 'intelligences' as he refers to them; it is up to parents and mentors to foster and nurture the gifts specific to that child.

Maybe some children lean towards science. Maybe towards music or art. Maybe a child can't draw at all, but he is happiest expressing himself in that way. Isn't that a gift?  One child may have an incredible sense of humor, while another child can listen and empathize ...all gifts.

To gain clarity on this issue, I turned to 1Corinthians, chapter twelve. Will you take time to read this? God's word always defines truth.  The truth about giftedness is crucial to the understanding and development of our children and ourselves if we are going to become who God has called us to be:


4 There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. 5 There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. 6 There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work.

7 Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. 8 To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, 9 to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, 10 to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues,[a] and to still another the interpretation of tongues.[b] 11 All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.

12 Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For we were all baptized by[c] one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. 14 Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

15 Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. 16 And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? 18 But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. 19 If they were all one part, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” 22 On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, 24 while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, 25 so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

27 Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. 28 And God has placed in the church first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, of helping, of guidance, and of different kinds of tongues. 29 Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? 30 Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues[d]? Do all interpret? 31 Now eagerly desire the greater gifts.

A Quiet Morning

Do you ever read something, only to realize later how prophetic that something truly was? A few days ago, I opened to this section in "The Rule Of St Benedict" :

The ninth step of humility is that a monk restrain his tongue from speaking , keeping silence until a question is asked him, as the Scripture shows: in much talking you will not avoid sin
(Prov 10:19); and the talkative one goes without direction upon the earth (Psalm 140:12).

The next day I lost my voice...as in I can only whisper. Try dealing with nine children and no voice! I'm sure my hand gestures, clapping, and squeaking appear quite comical.The worst is when one of the children calls me from upstairs, and I am downstairs; I can't yell "What?!" back to them, So they yell "Mom!" over and over and over again. I've just started clapping, so they remember I can't talk to them.

Yesterday at the "Y" there was a scene. We were trying to eat our "dinner" in the little foyer of the building, and I just couldn't get it orchestrated (ie..kids were not cooperating). I was trying to whisper out orders, totally not making an impact, and Ben said: "I'm so glad you don't have your voice right now!" It was so funny, but I couldn't laugh!

"But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." (Luke 2:19)

All craziness and frustration aside, losing my voice has made me rethink the value of silence. William Penn said:

Love silence, even in the mind; for thoughts are to that as words are to the body, troublesome: much speaking, as much thinking, spends. True silence is the rest of the mind; and it is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.
(William Penn, Advice To His Children)

How many times in my life do I wish I could unspeak spoken words? How often is silence a balm, a peaceful acceptance and listening that brings healing? And what I often crave most  is the silence of others, when I won't remain quiet myself. The amazing thing is, since I have started having to communicate with my children by whispering, they have started whispering back to me, just out of what seems right. Quiet breeds more quiet, just as loudness breeds more loudness.

So will I stop talking when my voice is back ? (Travis....I see your excited face!) Of course not! But I think I am going to work much harder at cultivating a spirit of quiet in my heart, and I'm going to watch my words more carefully. Is it any coincidence that I have lost my voice during Lent? I don't think so. Maybe God is telling me in His beautiful quiet way that there is something to be said for that great sweet silence that stills spirit and mind.

His Will Be Done

The wind, in its shapeless form, hollows sky and parts seas, and I, restless and unmade, find form in His breathing of life, his imparting of soul manna.

Tossed. Feverish. Unsettled. The storm raged over roof and vexed sleep last night. I awoke feeling restless and agitated.

I pray with the psalmist, "Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?" (psalm 139:7), and I know that God is surely present in the tempest; He does not depart. I cannot flee. But sometimes the greatest cross to bear is staying. Not running. Not hiding. I stand before God in all disfigurement, unashamed of my naked soul.

I settle in my chair this morning with one of my best friends in hand. De Caussade never fails to move me with his words of wisdom. He speaks on the restlessness of the human heart, of how to really do God's will, and how the waiting and being open to divine promptings is the deepest form of prayer. Remaining detached, emptied, open...this is the surest disposition, the most holy posture of prayer:

Leave everything else to God, except for your love and obedience to the duties of the moment...
We possess and enjoy God by union with His will, and we deceive ourselves if we imagine we can have this delight by any other means.

God unites His will to ours in a thousand different ways, and the one he employs in our case is always the best for us. We should honor and love them all, for they are all arranged by God to suit each individual soul to bring about this union.

We must keep ourselves detached from all we feel or do if we are to travel along His path and live only for God and the duties of the present moment. We must stop all imaginings of the future, keep our attention on what is happening now and not bother about anything that has gone before or what may follow.

I imagine that God's will always governs you. You will then have some inner prompting which makes you say: "I feel drawn to this person or this book; I would like to give another person some advice or ask for some myself; I wish to complain about something, to open my heart to someone and in turn receive confidence, to give something away or to perform a certain action..."

We must give ourselves to whatever God wishes and for as long as He wishes and yet never get personally involved in them...There is never a moment when there is not some virtue to be practiced.

But whatever we do, we do it because we are drawn to this particular action without knowing why. All we can say can be reduced to this: "  I feel drawn to write, to read, to question and examine. I obey this feeling, and God who is responsible for it, thus builds up within me a kind of spiritual store which, in the future, will develop into a core of usefulness for myself and others."

(excerpt from: Abandonment To Divine Providence pgs 80-81)


Yes...what it all comes down to is one simple line, a creed, a daring manifesto:  Thy Will be done. In all, through all, amidst all...His Will be done. When we fall in love with God, when we seek to exist as a tool in the master's hands, He can do wondrous things. He can give shape to the formless, He can make something from nothing.