How To See

It was a gloriously warm, summer-like day.

I was happy.

I wasn't yelling (much) and our little exploration had turned into a winner in that we had spotted turtles in the wetland - something we'd never seen on previous nature walks at that particular location.  

The kids were excited, contented, playing, and most of all, they weren't bickering, complaining or fighting with one another.

It was bliss.

Even the antics of this boy -  my wild-child, as I call him, couldn't disrupt the beauty of our meditative outdoor enjoyment.  So when his drawing paper landed amidst Water Striders and Whirlygig Beetles in the glassy, aquamarine water, I calmly scooped them up with little more than a sigh, and laid the papers to dry on the dock in the unusually hot May sun.  It wasn't even breezy (which is unusual for our city), so in a matter of minutes the accidental near-drowning of drawing papers was forgotten.

I wonder: Why can't every day be like this?

I told my husband later that night, as we stood in the kitchen wiping up crumbs and putting away pots and pans, "See.... the sun makes me so happy!  I'm made to be in warm places!"

And it's true.  I gain an unusual contentment from long, summer days.  Winter is my hibernation - I eat too much, feel sluggish, want to sleep more and often find it difficult to face day after day of cold weather that coops us up indoors. I can relate to the dormancy of a deciduous tree - barren, no life apparent, waiting for the kiss of the sun and warm weather to "spring" forth with green buds; welcoming the chorus of songbirds and awakened with the promise of a fruitful summer.

Yet, as I looked at my pictures and strained to see the beautiful moments that I felt so strongly, I was surprised that I was scrolling through mediocre snapshots, not stunning works of art.  My heart remembers the warmth, happiness and joy - but the images captured with my iPhone don't come close to expressing the true beauty we indulged upon.  But my heart is still happy.

How much more so is my life a snapshot in time?

Can I look for the beauty - glorious moments where life and love pop up, unexpectedly - even when skies are gray?

If only I could remember and abhor my proclivity to be too busy, too sharp, too narrow-minded...

Often, it's when I'm finally quiet, breathing slowly, eyes closed and unsuccessfully attempting to sleep that I finally remember

Each day is filled with opportunities for wonder
if I could slow myself enough to notice.

My children are marvelous creatures who are always learning, growing and changing and I can hurry them along, or try to see life through their eyes by taking time to really listen.

In the pauses; the deceleration of our minds and hearts, we see more clearly and begin to hear the melody of life's symphony.

When we train our eyes to look for the beautiful, we find that as Dostoyevski said:

"Beauty will save the world."
 

Because it's the ugliness of my wrong intentions, my false expectations and misperceptions that are ruining me.  I don't see beauty because my eyes are drawn far too quickly to the soiled, the broken, the misleading.  And it wears me down.

I'm not naturally a "glass half-full" sort of person.  But there are moments in time, flashes of inspiration and divine unfolding when the dust and smog of the pains and cares of this world peel away and I truly see, and breathe, and absorb what I believe this world was meant to be.

There are moments in life when you can't deny the God-tinged, unearthly and unspoiled illumination.  Like when my last baby was born and I held him - still blueish with waxy, vernix-smeared skin and then his eyes opened on this side of earth for the first time, and his little lungs sucked in his fist breaths, and I beheld life: freshly kissed by heaven.

When we see beauty, we see the Divine.

 "For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen" -Romans 1:20

Who doesn't gawk with awe at the mighty Rocky Mountains?  Who doesn't gasp at the awesome roar of thunder?  Something within us all is set to respond to the magnificence of earth.

My aim, then, is to peer at the world in anticipation.
To watch, to wait, and then to wonder. 

"Then sings my soul, my God, how great thou art."

Carl Gustav Boberg (1859–1940)

  

When Basmati Won't Suffice

"I'm hungry"
"Mo-o-om! Can I have something to eat?"
"Can we have a snack?"

I hear this about 500 times a day... or so it seems.

My kids are ALWAYS hungry... even if it's only 5 minutes after lunch.

Something I realized, is that their request for food is a sign of a home where food is available and abundant.  And I'm thankful that we live in a way that my kids do not have to go hungry - where we have enough to provide regular meals (and snacks) for them.  I imagine that kids who live in a place where there is not enough food would learn to stop asking, because they would continually be turned down and disappointed by lack.

However, we've had our ups and downs as a family.  And right now happens to be a "down".  I'm not saying that we're going hungry, but we are trying to be frugal and budget conscious and also making sure we aren't wasting food (which translates to wasting money). That also means trying to use food we already have in our cupboards, instead of automatically running to the store for our favorite items.

So this evening, when I was preparing the ingredients for dinner, I noticed that we were almost out of our favorite Thai rice that we use in a lot of the meals we cook on a regular basis.  "No problem," I thought, "I'll just use a different kind of rice."  Which really wasn't a big deal because there were 3 other kinds of rice in our cupboard: Basmati, sweet rice and brown rice.  I figured that the Basmati would be the most appealing to my kids, so I cooked up a pot to serve along with the small portion of Thai rice.

Then it happened.

"Mom! What is wrong with this rice?"  A child burst out, referring to the Basmati rice on their plate.

"It's Basmati rice." I replied. "We ran out of Thai rice, so I had to use something else. And actually, Basmati is a really nice type of rice AND I put butter in it, so I don't know why you are complaining!"  As you might gather, at this point I was feeling irritated!

"Butter!?!?" The child whined and then showed a face of extreme disgust.

"Okay" I responded not so calmly, "Then you may go to your room for supper if you are not grateful for the food we have to eat!"  Except, since we are currently staying in a two bedroom basement suite (it's complicated) and this child doesn't have their own room, they just went to sit on their bed and sulk.

I had to shake my head at the preposterous nature of this moment.   Like, really?  Did my child just turn their nose up and reject a perfectly nutritious and delicious dinner because they were served the WRONG KIND OF RICE?!?!

We ended up having a little talk when I finished my dinner, although (with the age and stage of this child) it felt more like a lecture - and I tried to enlighten this child on how blessed our family actually is.  Yes, we don't have a ton of money right now, and we didn't buy more Thai rice - but we have plenty of food in our fridge and cupboards and we are NOT going hungry!  I referred to my husband's growing up years, where he not so fondly remembers times of eating lots of eggs and zucchini because their family could get it for free to supplement their meager stock of groceries in a home with four growing kids.  

When I come to the heart of this situation, I realize that my desire is to see my kids exhibit grattitude - not just when things are good, but even in the midst of trials (like having the wrong kind of rice, or being served something you don't like at a friend's house).

My grumpy side would like to teach my kids a lesson: Maybe I could make them eat plain food for a while - like Kraft dinner and frozen pizzas and stuff that comes out a can -  and then, when we finally have something homemade and delicious, they will be so thankful and grateful that I won't even have to prompt them!  However, I don't think I could bear to punish my kids that way - especially when they have two culinarily creative parents.

So I'm looking for a solution.  I'm tired of reminding them to say "thank you" all the time and I don't want to have to prod them to be grateful for the food that others make for them (even when they don't like it very much).

I'm looking for gratefulness to be a heart attitude, not a sign of a good upbringing or good manners.  True gratitude comes from the heart; I don't want my kids to perform - or worse yet, roll their eyes and speak insincerely.

Maybe the place where it all starts is with me?  Perhaps I should sincerely investigate my heart attitude, not just my actions?  Sure, I act grateful when I'm invited out and someone makes me dinner (even if I don't like it).  I know my manners... I've been raised properly. (Thanks, Ma!)

But I think it goes so much further than the "thank you" at dinnertime or when someone holds open the door for you at a store.  Gratitude comes from a lifestyle of constant mindfulness that I am am getting far better than I deserve.  Gratitude comes from recognition that life is a gift.  Gratitude also acknowledges the value of those around you - their preciousness as a "fearfully and wonderfully made" human, to quote Psalm 139.

I wonder if I am showing true, heartfelt gratitude both around my children as well as towards my children?  Maybe I think that I shouldn't have to thank them for doing their chores, cleaning up after themselves - or even for showing me affection.  But if I begin to create an atmosphere that values and encourages these actions, I believe that not only will these actions become more commonplace, but they will also begin to adopt my posture of gratitude. 

If I am quick to point out the positive of my children's behavior, then that behavior will be what is honored and upheld as desirable.  But I'm not thinking about how this will merely make life easier for me - I'm not trying to use a formula to induce better behavior in my children.  I have a feeling that this will actually result in my heart being more content and joyous.  And that sounds like a really good thing.

I don't expect things to change overnight.  I know that my kids are adaptable and as I pursue gratefulness, it sure to rub off on them.  But for me, it's a journey...

I know that I'm still going to have days where someone doesn't like dinner and then refuses to eat.  And in that situation, I'll do my best to remind them of our blessings and then send them to their room to find their "happy, grateful attitude".

And my kids will most certainly continue to whine incessantly at me "Mo-o-o-mmmm, I'm hungry!"

Thankfully, I still have one last trick up my sleeve - it's the kind of answer that annoying parents like me give to their kids in this situation:

"You're not hungry, you're bored!" 

(Feel free to use that one, it's a freebie!)

Why I Love Nature Walks...

For once, mud has made my heart happy.

The muddy boots sitting by my front door are a welcome reminder of tromping through the hills with my family.  We relished the November sun as it made slush of the snow-covered trails in the valley that echoed with the delighted exclaims of my inquisitive children.  I taught my little ones to recognize the call of the Chickadee, and smiled to myself as they called back "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" to the tiny bird perched high in the naked branches.

I highly recommend a regular diet which partakes of the great outdoors!

Are you stressed?  Get outside, under the vast expanse of blue sky on a clear day and soak it in.  

Are your kids driving you crazy with excessive noise and disaster-prone behavior?  Get them outside!  Trust me, the dirt is worth it when you account for the fact that their voices are lost in the wide open spaces and the entertainment is found - not in the eerie glow of a screen, but in the trees, hills, rocks and sky.

Are you sad or lonely?  All of creation cries of a God who meticulously designed a world intended to glorify Him, and give us delight.  Every snowflake, every cloud, every snow-capped mountain on the horizon... all of nature's bounty is a reminder of a good God, who makes beautiful things and cares about even the smallest details.  For that I am thankful, and in my grateful enjoyment, I am truly refreshed.

God's glory is on tour in the skies, God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.  Madame Day holds classes every morning, Professor Night lectures each evening.  Their words aren't heard, their voices aren't recorded,  But their silence fills the earth: unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.
-Psalm 19:1-4 (MSG)

This is just how I feel...

My heart is so soft now I think I could almost describe it as squishy. Ha ha... and maybe a little bit broken, too.
I have a heightened awareness of how precious my kids are. I find myself almost wanting to wake them up at night; I'll be overcome by a panic attack, feeling like I didn't love them enough while they were awake.
I just want to get on with my life, but I also feel horrible and don't want to ever forget about my sweety that will never walk on this side of life. I'm trying to picture heaven and wonder what life is like for my baby there.
Right now, the positive thing that I can be thankful for is how much more I love my kids and husband. I'm thankful for a heart that is sensitive to life around me and that I find it so much more precious now.
Yet I'm finding life a lot more exhausting right now. I don't want to keep thinking or writing about anything else right now because it hurts too much.