It seems like many other things, people are finding more and more to debate in today's society- education notwithstanding. It seems that Homeschool vs. Public (or private) school will forever be up for debate, each family standing firmly on the side that they have chosen, not willing to budge, claiming that their way is the best- and right- way to educate our nation's children. It gets frustrating sometimes, and I often feel caught somewhere in the middle of this debate. I have many friends who homsechool and many who don't. I have friends who teach in various schools- public and private alike. I have seen public schools, private schools, and homeschools fail and triumph. When all is said and done, I don't think pointing out the flaws in the opposing schooling methods helps anyone. I've seen it all: homeschool, public school, and private school. I seen the ups and downs of both, and here is what I have learned:
Kids can be mean, not matter what kind of education you are dealing with.
If your child is encouraged to learn, he or she will excel- especially when parents and teachers pitch in at school and at home.
The world can be exciting and scary, accepting and rejecting, full of possibility and full of trials.
It is important for each family to weigh carefully their options for education before jumping into something head first. For some, homeschooling is the right choice, and for others, public school is. I don't pretend to have all the right answers, but I do know this: you aren't a bad Christian if you send your children to public school. You have not failed as a parent and your children won't hold it against you. I am sick of hearing otherwise.
We don't homeschool our children. We don't have anything against homeschooling, but we don't homeschool. I am not opposed to the idea of one day maybe homeschooling, but right now, in the season of life we are in, homeschooling is just not for us. And for us, at this point in our lives, this is the best option for my children.
This has been a tough subject for us as we often find ourselves in the midst of a culture in which many people choose to homeschool, for various reasons. Most of our friends are okay with our choice to send our daughter to public school, but often times I find myself faced with a situation where an acquaintance shares their negative opinions on public school, not realizing, perhaps, that this is our choice of education for our daughter (and soon for our son.)
So, for those of you who would cast aspersions on us for sending our children to public school, here are a few things to consider...
What is best for your family might not be best for everyone. Different does not mean wrong.
My daughter is thriving. She is doing great in school and has never been so curious about the world around her. She loves to read and write and learn.
Public school is not corrupting her. School itself is not what corrupts- people do. It is my job as a parent to give my children a strong foundation for life, instilling in them the core values that we follow as a family. She knows about the Love of God. She knows the difference between right and wrong. She knows what it means to love people and care for others. She even recites the Pledge of Allegiance with the rest of the school every morning.
She has been bullied. I have news for you: This can happen anywhere. When I was in private school, I was taken advantage of- often being the scapegoat for trouble makers in my class and not knowing how to explain what really happened. When I was homeschooled, I was actually bullied by kids in my youth group. When I was in private school, you guessed it, I was bullied there too. While it hurt to be pushed around and made fun of, I learned a few things about people. I learned what to expect from real friends and how to handle the people who were not really friends at all. I hate that my daughter has been bullied, but I have to hand it to her: She knew how to handle it. She told the appropriate adults, confronted the girl who was giving her a hard time, and is no longer being bullied. The young girl who was bullying her has since apologized and the two are friends. I'd say, life lesson learned.
Also, a few other variables as to why we do not homeschool are schedule related.
My husband works random, sporadic, and sometimes unpredictable hours. If we were to homeschool, we would both want to be in on the teaching as much as we could.
My husband and I are both full time college students, working toward fulfilling a call on our lives. We barely have enough time for own homework. I feel like if we homeschooled, I should devote full time to teaching them. Because we are in school ourselves, I feel as if we would inevitably be shortchanging them on their education.
This does not mean that in the future it is out of the question, but for now, this is what works best for my family. Let me be perfectly clear: I admire all the parents who have devoted themselves to teaching their children at home. I know many brilliant people who are currently homeschooled or who have graduated as homeschool successes. It is a great way for a family to educate their children. But, it is not the way we have chosen to handle our children's education. And that is just fine. So, to the people who believe that you can only get a good education by sending your children to public school: you are wrong, it is not the only way. And to the people who feel that the only way to teach our children is to keep them at home: you are also wrong. What works best for you, may not be what's best for us.
I know I probably have not heard the last of this debate, and sometimes I feel alone in this one. Someone once told me, " But we need our 'lights' in the public schools too." I found that immensely encouraging. So, Rylee, the bright light that she is, and soon Sammy too, will be learning in the public school system.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Science and Faith
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| Rylee working on her science fair project |
My daughter Rylee is interested and curious about many things. For every question she asks, we find an answer. And for every answer, she asks five more questions. She is in public school, and very bright for her age. She does have some of the same troubles I used to have when I was young, and can be very easily distracted. She has been blessed with having teachers that take the time to help her stay focused and interested. When she is focused and interested she thrives. So, when the school PTA hosted a science fair last year, Rylee jumped at the chance to get in on the fun. She did her project on minerals and grew salt and sugar crystals, trying to decide which might grow faster. She learned that salt was very important mineral to life, but that too much of it can actually be harmful. She loved it! So, when the science fair came around again this year, she was excited for weeks. Try as we might, we could not talk her out of the stereotypical volcano project. The idea of an explosion was so much fun, but her interest in volcanoes themselves won out over a study of chemical reactions between vinegar and baking soda. She learned about lava and magma, and how gasses, heat, and pressure cause an eruption. She learned that ash in the atmosphere can cause changes to the climate, weather, and habitats. She learned about famous volcanoes such as Vesuvius, Helens, Pele, and Krakatoa and the destruction that can follow in the wake of an eruption. And she soaked it all up. At the science fair she kept shooing me away so she could do her presentation solo. Every time I got close to listen to her talk, she'd shoot me that look. I backed away with a smile on my face and pride for my daughter in my heart. She loves science just as much as she loves art. She always says that when she grows up she wants to save animals (think Greenpeace.) She loves the earth and is always fascinated about geology, botany, and zoology. One of her hobbies is googling different animals, plants, or places and learning all she can about them. (She once looked up spider brains.) Her favorite book is about all the different kinds of whales. And dinosaurs fascinate her so much. She believes that if God loves his creation, we should too. She believes it is our job to take care of the earth and the animals, and does not understand why so many people take it for granted. I believe she is right, and she will go far with perspective like that. She is 8 and already wants to make a difference in this world- and she already has.
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| Volcano in Action |
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| Rylee proud of her ribbon and pin she got for participating |
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| Rylee posing in front of her project. Her shirt reads, "Love your world." (sorry this one's blurry.) |
Monday, February 14, 2011
Epics
Funny how people come and go throughout a person's life, each one making a significant impact in who that person will someday be and each one representing that season of a person's life. I, like many others, have seen people come and go throughout my own life. Some people leaving warm memories, others who helped carry me through rough times, and even others who, whether intentional or not, wounded me deeply. There have been a handful of people who have made such an impact on my life that they have remained in my life no matter the different paths life has taken us, and they will forever be some of the closest people to me. I'm not talking about family- family will always be there for me no matter what I'm going through. I'm talking about friends. These are the friends that would drop anything to be there for my family, the friends that love me no matter how quirky or obnoxious I get. We go way back, we grew up together, and no matter where life leads us, we will always be connected. These precious few mean the world to me.Seth and I went through several years of uncertainty, hurt, and healing. When we came out of it, we were stronger for it. We had learned much about ourselves and about each other. When we were stationed back on the Cape for the second time, it was met with as much joy as uncertainty. Much of our rough times were spent on the Cape, and there was fear of history repeating itself. However, we had a brighter outlook on life and each other, that we were ready to return to the Cape with a renewed sense of love, spirituality, and family. We returned the church that had sparked a glimmer of hope in our marriage some years back. While our first time on the cape, I had only attended the church for nearly a year by myself, hiding in a friend's shadow, and Seth merely attended a few weeks, it was enough to get us thinking and re-evaluating ourselves. Our time away from the Cape was spent healing, growing, and many bitter-sweet days of being apart (Seth was stationed on a cutter and was often away from home.) Moving back to the cape, not only meant that Seth would be home all the time, but that we could return to the church that accepted not just me for me, but Seth despite the fact that he did not, at the time, want to be a part of any church. Our two years away from the Cape were where we needed to be to grow, and the people that were in our lives were essential to that growth. But, it was time to return to the Cape and immerse ourselves in a community unlike many others I have ever known. We are nearing two years back on the cape, and we have developed and grew so many great- no not great, epic- friendships since moving back. These people have become friends, and mentors to us- both of us. They not only love us for who we are, quirks and all, but they are quirky themselves. We are accepted, flaws and all. They not only know our weaknesses and failures, but they see past them, and love us anyway. They are exemplary of Jesus' love for us, and that makes me love them all the more. Recently, Seth and I were introduced to the world of Steampunk. We were quickly immersed and- dare I say it?- obsessed with this genre that reflected creativity, idealism, and an age of gentry long gone by. All thanks, by the way, to one of our dear friends on the Cape. Seth and I rarely get the opportunity to have a weekend away, and even rarer do we get to get away with our friends- our epic friends. We had such a weekend just over a week ago, when we had the privilege to attend Temple Con in Rhode Island. We all worked hard on our neo-Victorian costumes, inventions, and various toy weaponry and immersed ourselves into a world of geekery where no one casts judgement and everyone shares a common passion for gaming and Steampunk. It was at this convention that Seth and I had come to the conclusion that we never have before been so close to a group of a friends as we are now. And every day I am so blessed and thankful that these people are in my life. And I just know that these are the kinds of friends that will forever be in our lives, not just here for a season, but here for a lifetime. Here are just a few pictures of our time at TempleCon with our very best friends in the 'verse.
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| Our Epic Friends with Seth and I |
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| Oh noes! |
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| My husband and I <3 |
February 14, 2011
So, here it is, the middle of February and it has been awhile since I have written anything here. I've been wracking my brain for something clever or soul-searching to write about, and either I draw blanks or my ideas resemble soap boxes more than thought provoking blog entries. Here I am, once again, trying to figure out what to write about, and it dawns on me: today is Valentine's day. Couples everywhere are behaving sickly sweet and soppy turning the stomachs of single folk everywhere. Consumerism is at an all time high, while boyfriends and husbands rush out willingly paying three times as much for roses and chocolate than they might pay any other day of the year. Girlfriends and wives are planning the perfect romantic evening, hoping that their significant other will notice the hard work it took to make herself drop dead gorgeous or the beautiful gourmet meal that awaits them. This is a yearly ritual that lovers revel in, while cynics and singles secretly hope that food poisoning wreaks havoc on lovers everywhere. Being married to an awesome guy myself, I tend to enjoy the day despite the fact that there have been many Valentine's days we have shared separately, as he is in the coast guard and has often been gone. He never fails to surprise me with flowers, or has them delivered. And yes, I am thrilled that he will be home tonight so we can have a romantic dinner for two at home. So, what's with this day that so many people have a love/hate relationship with? Who was St. Valentine? According to http://www.catholic.org/, he is the patron saint of love, happy marriages, and young people. He was a holy priest and assisted in helping martyrs from being persecuted. Eventually, he was caught and martyred as well after he refused to renounce his faith. He died on February 14th. How he became associated with the holiday of love, might seem odd, but in the effort to discourage non- believers from celebrating their pagan holiday, several zealous pastors began substituting the names of saints on the holiday. Thus, St. Valentine's Day was born. I suppose there are several versions of the story out there, and whatever the truth is, St. Valentine's Day will continue to be a day of consumerism, love stories, and, yes, annoyed singles everywhere. So, as you celebrate today, toast to your sweetie, or to your singleness, and remember that today is not just about loving your family and friends, its also about loving your fellow humanity. St. Valentine died for not just his faith, but also for fighting to save others from unjust deaths. He risked everything because he loved others. As Mother Theresa said, "If you judge people, you have no time to love them." And the Bible tells us to love one another numerous times. 1 Corinthians 13 anyone? Not to mention the other numerous passages on the subject. So, today, Love one another. Love your sweetie, love your children, love your parents, love your friends. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Dear Rylee
Mostly I write on this blog my own personal reflections and experiences, partly in hope that they will reflect on someone else's life and partly as an outlet for things I might not otherwise have the courage to say. Today is the first day of 2011 and we have a year full of possibility ahead of us. I am writing you this note as a kind of new year resolution, and perhaps someday you will be able to look back on this and read it when you are older.
Growing up can be tough. I remember wanting to fit in and be accepted. I remember how heartbreaking it was when people did not want to be my friend or when people did not understand me. I know the hurt that comes with being stereotyped by things that are considered limitations or socially acceptable. And as I grew up, I have learned that in order to be truly happy, you need to stay true to God and to who you are. He made you who you are for a reason. You are compassionate and sensitive. This is not a bad thing. This just means you have a heart that is bigger than most, which makes it nice because you have more room in there to love other people and animals. You are creative and imaginative. Don't ever let anyone tell you you can't achieve your dreams because you are dreaming too big or because they feel it is impossible. Nothing is impossible. Reach for the stars, Rylee, and do not be afraid to dream. You are beautiful and feminine even though you love things that other people think are purely boy things. If you love dragons, Love dragons. If you love Pokemon, love Pokemon. When I was a girl, I would climb trees in my swirly ruffly dresses and I did not even care. You have a free spirit. Let it stay free. Do not let stereotypes limit you or squash your beautiful radiant personality. Be who you are, because that is who God made you to be. Do not try to become someone you are not. If people cannot love you and accept you for who you are, then they are not worthy of your friendship. I love that old lullaby we used to sing, "If they knew sweet little you, they'd end up loving you too! All those same people who scold you, what they'd give just for the right to hold you!" Remember these words and stay true to yourself. I love you, Rylee. You make my life brighter. Happy new year!
Love,
Mommy
Friday, December 31, 2010
Auld Lang Syne
This past year has been filled with it's share of trials and triumphs and as I look over the past 12 months I can't help but feel like there has been an incredible amount of growth in such a short amount of time. I will forever be amazed at how God orchestrates things for his glory, even when it might not seem like it at the time. Life on Cape Cod has been so full of blessings this year and I am thankful for each and every one of my friends I have here. I, of course, often find myself missing my friends and family in NH and daydream of ways I can connect the two places via a portal. I usually have to resign myself to being thankful that I have so many friends and family spread out over multiple states and there will always be a friendly face no matter where I travel. This last year has been a tough one in many ways as my family experienced several grievous losses, leaving many of us wondering why we haven't made a bigger effort in familial relationships, and for those closest to our loved ones who have passed on before us, very large empty holes that are simply unable to be filled. It seems that many people, my family aside, has dealt with many losses this year and my heart goes out to each one of them, as do my prayers. I am grateful for the friends and family that lent me their support during those hard times, and just as grateful for them during the good times as well.
Earlier this year my family had the privilege and blessing to be able to go on our first family vacation ever, and to Disney World! This was chock full of memories for us, and Rylee and Sammy are constantly asking if I remember this or that from our trip there. We are determined to return one day, when Sammy is a little older, when we have the finances to do it, and maybe even for an anniversary sans the kids... Who knows? All I know is this was one huge highlight this year for me.
Another one of the many blessings that have filled this year are the many friendships that have been forged through the various social circles I have been involved in. I have always been a fairly social person, although I have not always found my social niche. I fit in nicely among the theatrical, literary, and generally eccentric crowds. And then there are my Wagon Train. These close knit women are most definitely Kindred spirits, and in this crazy world, while I usually love just about everyone, I do not always find people I simply click with. My girls are such a blessing and I love each and every one of them. They are my encouragements, my comforts, and my confidants. With them I am not judged, just loved and accepted for who I am, flaws and all.
My children will forever be the highlights of my life and it is an honor to be their mother. They always know how to make me laugh, the exact times I need a hug, and have such a thirst for learning new things. Their creativity is boundless and to see the world through their eyes is pure magic.
Another one of the bigger things that have happened to Seth and I this year was the acknowledgment of the Call of God on our lives. He had been prodding us for years now, and both of us finally broke down and decided to answer that call. This is scary new territory for us, but we are both very excited for this phase of our life. We are working toward earning our Bachelors in Ministry, and have a strong feeling that we will eventually find ourselves in the church planting world, Seth in leadership and discipleship, and me in counseling. Whichever way this road turns, we are finally willing and excited to see what God does with our lives and how He uses us for His glory.
This was a year of enlightenment for me, as I have finally come to grips with a few lifelong struggles of mine. I have made some major changes in how I handle my ADHD by organizing my life and working hard. I have combated the PSTD by simply learning to let things go, and the anxiety by simply thinking things out logically- which can be hard for me as I think and process things purely on an emotional plane. With each of these struggles and shortcomings, I have grown leaps and bounds in overcoming them.
This was also the first year I have actually completed a New Year's resolution and finished my first novel. I have passed it out to a group of friends, who, when they find time in their busy lives, will read them and critique them so that I might be able to polish it and actually attempt to get it published- which might just be my resolution for 2011.
Another pit fall I seem to constantly find myself in is somewhere between keeping the house to the standards that I would love to say I keep for my family and reality, which is lived in. I plan on continuing to hone this skill throughout the new year, and I feel it is directly related to the aforementioned ADHD stuff I have been overcoming. I have also learned to let some things go, and have come to the conclusion that sometimes it is okay to let the house be "lived in" so that I may play and explore and create projects with my children. As the plaquard above my kitchen sink says, "Pardon the mess, my children are making memories."
My mind is now jumping around to many things I have learned and experienced over this past year, and my conclusion each times leaves me to know that my life is enriched with the people in it, and blessed because of God's constant provision. I have lost count on the many times that my friends, family, and church have come to be anchors and supports throughout the year, not to mention the many times that our needs were met in the most randomest of ways. God is awesome.
As the dawn of a new year fastly approaches, I hope that my perspective on life remains positive and that I continue to work on the self-discipline and logic that so often seems to elude me. I have vowed to value and treasure the people in my life, because they are often gone suddenly and we are left regretting all the time we could have spent together and now do not have the chance. May this new year bring opportunity, strengthen relationships, and the wisdom to listen to God's voice and calling. Here's to 2011 and the infinite possibilities it may bring.
Earlier this year my family had the privilege and blessing to be able to go on our first family vacation ever, and to Disney World! This was chock full of memories for us, and Rylee and Sammy are constantly asking if I remember this or that from our trip there. We are determined to return one day, when Sammy is a little older, when we have the finances to do it, and maybe even for an anniversary sans the kids... Who knows? All I know is this was one huge highlight this year for me.
Another one of the many blessings that have filled this year are the many friendships that have been forged through the various social circles I have been involved in. I have always been a fairly social person, although I have not always found my social niche. I fit in nicely among the theatrical, literary, and generally eccentric crowds. And then there are my Wagon Train. These close knit women are most definitely Kindred spirits, and in this crazy world, while I usually love just about everyone, I do not always find people I simply click with. My girls are such a blessing and I love each and every one of them. They are my encouragements, my comforts, and my confidants. With them I am not judged, just loved and accepted for who I am, flaws and all.
My children will forever be the highlights of my life and it is an honor to be their mother. They always know how to make me laugh, the exact times I need a hug, and have such a thirst for learning new things. Their creativity is boundless and to see the world through their eyes is pure magic.
Another one of the bigger things that have happened to Seth and I this year was the acknowledgment of the Call of God on our lives. He had been prodding us for years now, and both of us finally broke down and decided to answer that call. This is scary new territory for us, but we are both very excited for this phase of our life. We are working toward earning our Bachelors in Ministry, and have a strong feeling that we will eventually find ourselves in the church planting world, Seth in leadership and discipleship, and me in counseling. Whichever way this road turns, we are finally willing and excited to see what God does with our lives and how He uses us for His glory.
This was a year of enlightenment for me, as I have finally come to grips with a few lifelong struggles of mine. I have made some major changes in how I handle my ADHD by organizing my life and working hard. I have combated the PSTD by simply learning to let things go, and the anxiety by simply thinking things out logically- which can be hard for me as I think and process things purely on an emotional plane. With each of these struggles and shortcomings, I have grown leaps and bounds in overcoming them.
This was also the first year I have actually completed a New Year's resolution and finished my first novel. I have passed it out to a group of friends, who, when they find time in their busy lives, will read them and critique them so that I might be able to polish it and actually attempt to get it published- which might just be my resolution for 2011.
Another pit fall I seem to constantly find myself in is somewhere between keeping the house to the standards that I would love to say I keep for my family and reality, which is lived in. I plan on continuing to hone this skill throughout the new year, and I feel it is directly related to the aforementioned ADHD stuff I have been overcoming. I have also learned to let some things go, and have come to the conclusion that sometimes it is okay to let the house be "lived in" so that I may play and explore and create projects with my children. As the plaquard above my kitchen sink says, "Pardon the mess, my children are making memories."
My mind is now jumping around to many things I have learned and experienced over this past year, and my conclusion each times leaves me to know that my life is enriched with the people in it, and blessed because of God's constant provision. I have lost count on the many times that my friends, family, and church have come to be anchors and supports throughout the year, not to mention the many times that our needs were met in the most randomest of ways. God is awesome.
As the dawn of a new year fastly approaches, I hope that my perspective on life remains positive and that I continue to work on the self-discipline and logic that so often seems to elude me. I have vowed to value and treasure the people in my life, because they are often gone suddenly and we are left regretting all the time we could have spent together and now do not have the chance. May this new year bring opportunity, strengthen relationships, and the wisdom to listen to God's voice and calling. Here's to 2011 and the infinite possibilities it may bring.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Usually I am trigger happy with my camera, especially at holidays. This year however, I seemed much too preoccupied with spending time with family to take many pictures. However, I did manage to snap a few of Christmas weekend
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| Our Family Tree |
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| Samuel tearing into his stocking. |
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| Rylee examining the contents of her stocking. |
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| Awesome |
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| Sammy and his Night Fury toy. |
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| Our Cousin Sophie |
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| Nana Lou (my mother in law) |
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| Our cousin Joshua |
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| Rylee unwrapping gifts and wearing her pretty dress. |
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| Julie's Mantle |
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| Auntie Lori (my sister in law) and Sammy |
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| My father in his spot |
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| Seth had the honor of reading Luke 2 this year. This tradition as not changed, and I hope it never does. |
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| My mother's tree. |
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas Magic
The sound of my children's laughter will forever be emblazoned on my heart. Their wide-eyed wonderment as they catch those big fluffy chunks of frozen glory as they swirl and twirl through the air on their way toward the earth will be something I will treasure always. As I help my children make their memories, I often find my mind wandering to the bygone days of my own youth.
I am the oldest of five. I have two sisters and two brothers. We have had our share of adventures and memories, many of which are wrapped up in Christmas cheer. As soon as we grasped the concept of telling time, we began to camp out in the Girls' Room playing cards and reading books by the soft red or green glow of our night light. Every hour on the hour after Midnight struck we would knock on my parents' bedroom door pleading with them to get up and get Christmas started. My mother would usually cave at around 5 am when she would convince my father to drag himself, half-asleep, from bed and make his way slooooowly to the living room. We would all be gathered at the very edge of the hall outside the kitchen, trying to catch glimpses of the magic glow the Christmas Tree would cast from the living room. No matter how hard we tried, the angle was never good enough to catch that first view of the mountain of presents nestled under the tree. After what seemed like an eternity, my father would plant himself on the couch with the Bible and we would scrambled to the living room, hoping to be the first one to take in that glorious view. We would all find our stockings and a spot in front of the Christmas tree and my father would read the Christmas story from Luke 2. As we grew older, we all would get the honor of reading the Christmas story.
After the beautiful reminder of what the day is about, we would tear into our stockings, our favorite part of the Christmas Present Ritual. Somehow my mother always managed to find the best things to fill our stockings with, and no matter how hard I try, I do not think I will ever match her talent in stocking stuffing. Of course we all would get our token toothbrushes and chap stick, but she would hand pick things for each one of us right down to quenching our thirst for reading. My parents never had tons of money to finance Christmas, but somehow we always managed to get everything we wanted and needed. My mom had a way with making things magical and beautiful and stretching the almighty dollar, not to mention teaching us the basic virtue of being thankful for what we have.
I remember the year my parents would mysteriously retreat to the basement and build things like elves in Santa's workshop. We were forbidden to play in the basement that year as they would go down their religiously and build Something. I remember Christmas morning finding the biggest doll house I had ever seen. The floors were wide and it had carpet that matched the church and linoleum that matched my grandmother's kitchen. The outside of the house was painted cream and trimmed with brown just like our house. There was a jewelry box filled with Barbie shoes inside. There was a front door and windows and even some wicker furniture. Joshua got a wooden backhoe for the sandbox he could sit on and control the digger. Those toys got played with for years, and to this day I regret ever dragging my dollhouse outside and never bringing it back in. Years later, when my daughter was old enough, I asked my parents to make my daughter her own dollhouse. It is taller and beautiful and sits in her room. It, too, gets played with a lot. Those handmade gifts always carried with them much more value than the store bought ones.
Every year we would get a family gift in addition to the individual ones, and often times this would be the big ticket item. Sometimes it would be in the form of a board game, but there were years when even us kids would be surprised. I can remember the year my parents bought the family a VCR. We didn't have any video tapes, so they taped The Sound of Music off of the television so we would have something to watch. To this day I believe that video was the most watched movie in our house, in spite of the grainy quality and occasional snow. I remember the year they bought the video camera. That year is chock full of embarrassing home movies of my siblings and I (mostly I...) as we hammed it up for future generations. My husband will occasionally pull these out just to watch me pinch my nose and forget the words to Rudolf in my Christmas pajamas. Ahhhh, those awkward adolescent years!
One of the more amusing things I find at Christmas time is my mother's insistence on using a number system instead of name tags on all the gifts. I guess when she was a child, her and her brothers would shake their gifts and figure out who got what. My grandmother cleverly combated this by creating a number system and hiding the list in her unmentionables. Of course they all knew where the list was and figured out not only which gift was whose, but what they were. My siblings and I never set out to intentionally discover what our presents were, although we did like to shake the presents and proudly announce that each and every one was either a puzzle or underwear. There were those times, of course, when we would ruin the surprise by accidentally discovering a present or two while we were pulling back flips off of the window seat onto my parents' bed. And then there was the year that astounded all of us. I think I was about 9 years old. Caleb was not born yet, and Hilary was just about a year old. Jessica, Joshua, and I were pulling capers in my mom's room, and it was probably about a week or so before the Big Day. Her room is off limits around birthdays and holidays, but we didn't care. Flipping off of the window seat was too much fun. (Younger readers: do not attempt, you could break your neck and I was crazy....) We of course were discovered as flipping is never a quiet event when it involves 3 kids ages 7, 8, and 9. She hurriedly shooed us from her room and sent us in search of other means of entertainment. We awoke Christmas morning- well, we never slept, actually- the same as other years, and waited for our dad to find his customary place on the couch before we could rush the Christmas tree hunting for our stockings. It had to have been a good ten or fifteen minutes before Jessica stopped what she was doing and shouted, "Dad has a kitten!!!!" We all stared at him in astonishment. There he was, on the couch, cradling the sweetest orange kitten we had ever seen. We had all been hoping for a kitten ever since our cats Nicki and Casey died, but our parents had never given in. My mother thought the surprise was ruined the day we were jumping on her bed as kitty paraphernalia was scattered throughout her room in plain view. We never saw it. As we all forgot about the rest of the unopened gifts, we hurried to play with our new best furry friend. I remember holding him as we all pondered what to call him. He then leaped from my arms and scurried up the Christmas tree and back down. Such a spunky little kitty. "Frisky," I suggested. So it had been decided that until we could come up with a better name, Frisky he would be. He looked just like the kitten on the Frisky's kitten cat food box. It was perfect. The name stuck, and that cat has to be the single most wonderful magical cat I have ever encountered. He was individually all of our cat, making it a routine to rotate to a new bed each night. He always knew when one of us was sad, and he had the loudest purr motor. He knew all of our secrets, and frequented our thinking spots. I miss that cat, and to this day believe that orange cats have some kind of magic quality about them, although I have yet to meet another cat as wonderful as him. He died a few years ago, and I never cried so hard for an animal than I did for him. And while my husband may never be a true cat person, I will forever maintain that every home should have one, especially if he or she is orange.
These memories are endless and they continue to grow as I have my own children now and we forge our own traditions. Over the past 9 years we have come to establish that our Christmas Eve shall fall on December 23 and Santa brings the kids presents a day early, so that we can have the holidays open for the rest of the family while still having our special day to ourselves. One tradition that I carry on with my children is that Christmas Eve they get to open a present and it usually involves pajamas. We read a favorite Christmas story, and I happen to have two from my childhood: The Christmas Story and The Littlest Angel that are read often in our home this time of year. The children do not yet wake up every hour on the hour to drag us out into the living room to see what Santa has brought them, and I am not sure that will ever happen, even though I still have a hard time sleeping on Christmas eve myself.... After we have our morning together as a family, we pack up the car and the Golden Retriever and head North to spend the remainder of the holidays with our family. Seth's cousins host a huge family party and we love seeing everyone there. It is fun seeing all the little cousins play and watch the June babies grow. Christmas morning is spent at my mothers and she loves seeing my kids first thing on Christmas morning, perpetuating the traditions forged from my own childhood with the next generation. We gather around and read Luke 2, and this year my mother is revisiting her old tradition by creating stockings for her grandchildren this year so that my children too will know of Grammy's magic touch. This year will be a tad different as my brother Joshua and his wife are out in NY celebrating Christmas in their new home and my Grandparents are already south for the winter, but here's to new traditions. I am excited to see my brother Caleb's fiance Gabby, my sister Hilary, my sister Jessica and her girls and making another year of new memories with my family. Christmas for me is wrapped up in memories and making new ones. It is about spending time with the ones I love and treasuring those moments, as they are fluid and seem to pass all too soon. The wonderful thing about memories is that we can transcend time and revisit them as often as we wish.
I am the oldest of five. I have two sisters and two brothers. We have had our share of adventures and memories, many of which are wrapped up in Christmas cheer. As soon as we grasped the concept of telling time, we began to camp out in the Girls' Room playing cards and reading books by the soft red or green glow of our night light. Every hour on the hour after Midnight struck we would knock on my parents' bedroom door pleading with them to get up and get Christmas started. My mother would usually cave at around 5 am when she would convince my father to drag himself, half-asleep, from bed and make his way slooooowly to the living room. We would all be gathered at the very edge of the hall outside the kitchen, trying to catch glimpses of the magic glow the Christmas Tree would cast from the living room. No matter how hard we tried, the angle was never good enough to catch that first view of the mountain of presents nestled under the tree. After what seemed like an eternity, my father would plant himself on the couch with the Bible and we would scrambled to the living room, hoping to be the first one to take in that glorious view. We would all find our stockings and a spot in front of the Christmas tree and my father would read the Christmas story from Luke 2. As we grew older, we all would get the honor of reading the Christmas story.
After the beautiful reminder of what the day is about, we would tear into our stockings, our favorite part of the Christmas Present Ritual. Somehow my mother always managed to find the best things to fill our stockings with, and no matter how hard I try, I do not think I will ever match her talent in stocking stuffing. Of course we all would get our token toothbrushes and chap stick, but she would hand pick things for each one of us right down to quenching our thirst for reading. My parents never had tons of money to finance Christmas, but somehow we always managed to get everything we wanted and needed. My mom had a way with making things magical and beautiful and stretching the almighty dollar, not to mention teaching us the basic virtue of being thankful for what we have.
I remember the year my parents would mysteriously retreat to the basement and build things like elves in Santa's workshop. We were forbidden to play in the basement that year as they would go down their religiously and build Something. I remember Christmas morning finding the biggest doll house I had ever seen. The floors were wide and it had carpet that matched the church and linoleum that matched my grandmother's kitchen. The outside of the house was painted cream and trimmed with brown just like our house. There was a jewelry box filled with Barbie shoes inside. There was a front door and windows and even some wicker furniture. Joshua got a wooden backhoe for the sandbox he could sit on and control the digger. Those toys got played with for years, and to this day I regret ever dragging my dollhouse outside and never bringing it back in. Years later, when my daughter was old enough, I asked my parents to make my daughter her own dollhouse. It is taller and beautiful and sits in her room. It, too, gets played with a lot. Those handmade gifts always carried with them much more value than the store bought ones.
Every year we would get a family gift in addition to the individual ones, and often times this would be the big ticket item. Sometimes it would be in the form of a board game, but there were years when even us kids would be surprised. I can remember the year my parents bought the family a VCR. We didn't have any video tapes, so they taped The Sound of Music off of the television so we would have something to watch. To this day I believe that video was the most watched movie in our house, in spite of the grainy quality and occasional snow. I remember the year they bought the video camera. That year is chock full of embarrassing home movies of my siblings and I (mostly I...) as we hammed it up for future generations. My husband will occasionally pull these out just to watch me pinch my nose and forget the words to Rudolf in my Christmas pajamas. Ahhhh, those awkward adolescent years!
One of the more amusing things I find at Christmas time is my mother's insistence on using a number system instead of name tags on all the gifts. I guess when she was a child, her and her brothers would shake their gifts and figure out who got what. My grandmother cleverly combated this by creating a number system and hiding the list in her unmentionables. Of course they all knew where the list was and figured out not only which gift was whose, but what they were. My siblings and I never set out to intentionally discover what our presents were, although we did like to shake the presents and proudly announce that each and every one was either a puzzle or underwear. There were those times, of course, when we would ruin the surprise by accidentally discovering a present or two while we were pulling back flips off of the window seat onto my parents' bed. And then there was the year that astounded all of us. I think I was about 9 years old. Caleb was not born yet, and Hilary was just about a year old. Jessica, Joshua, and I were pulling capers in my mom's room, and it was probably about a week or so before the Big Day. Her room is off limits around birthdays and holidays, but we didn't care. Flipping off of the window seat was too much fun. (Younger readers: do not attempt, you could break your neck and I was crazy....) We of course were discovered as flipping is never a quiet event when it involves 3 kids ages 7, 8, and 9. She hurriedly shooed us from her room and sent us in search of other means of entertainment. We awoke Christmas morning- well, we never slept, actually- the same as other years, and waited for our dad to find his customary place on the couch before we could rush the Christmas tree hunting for our stockings. It had to have been a good ten or fifteen minutes before Jessica stopped what she was doing and shouted, "Dad has a kitten!!!!" We all stared at him in astonishment. There he was, on the couch, cradling the sweetest orange kitten we had ever seen. We had all been hoping for a kitten ever since our cats Nicki and Casey died, but our parents had never given in. My mother thought the surprise was ruined the day we were jumping on her bed as kitty paraphernalia was scattered throughout her room in plain view. We never saw it. As we all forgot about the rest of the unopened gifts, we hurried to play with our new best furry friend. I remember holding him as we all pondered what to call him. He then leaped from my arms and scurried up the Christmas tree and back down. Such a spunky little kitty. "Frisky," I suggested. So it had been decided that until we could come up with a better name, Frisky he would be. He looked just like the kitten on the Frisky's kitten cat food box. It was perfect. The name stuck, and that cat has to be the single most wonderful magical cat I have ever encountered. He was individually all of our cat, making it a routine to rotate to a new bed each night. He always knew when one of us was sad, and he had the loudest purr motor. He knew all of our secrets, and frequented our thinking spots. I miss that cat, and to this day believe that orange cats have some kind of magic quality about them, although I have yet to meet another cat as wonderful as him. He died a few years ago, and I never cried so hard for an animal than I did for him. And while my husband may never be a true cat person, I will forever maintain that every home should have one, especially if he or she is orange.
These memories are endless and they continue to grow as I have my own children now and we forge our own traditions. Over the past 9 years we have come to establish that our Christmas Eve shall fall on December 23 and Santa brings the kids presents a day early, so that we can have the holidays open for the rest of the family while still having our special day to ourselves. One tradition that I carry on with my children is that Christmas Eve they get to open a present and it usually involves pajamas. We read a favorite Christmas story, and I happen to have two from my childhood: The Christmas Story and The Littlest Angel that are read often in our home this time of year. The children do not yet wake up every hour on the hour to drag us out into the living room to see what Santa has brought them, and I am not sure that will ever happen, even though I still have a hard time sleeping on Christmas eve myself.... After we have our morning together as a family, we pack up the car and the Golden Retriever and head North to spend the remainder of the holidays with our family. Seth's cousins host a huge family party and we love seeing everyone there. It is fun seeing all the little cousins play and watch the June babies grow. Christmas morning is spent at my mothers and she loves seeing my kids first thing on Christmas morning, perpetuating the traditions forged from my own childhood with the next generation. We gather around and read Luke 2, and this year my mother is revisiting her old tradition by creating stockings for her grandchildren this year so that my children too will know of Grammy's magic touch. This year will be a tad different as my brother Joshua and his wife are out in NY celebrating Christmas in their new home and my Grandparents are already south for the winter, but here's to new traditions. I am excited to see my brother Caleb's fiance Gabby, my sister Hilary, my sister Jessica and her girls and making another year of new memories with my family. Christmas for me is wrapped up in memories and making new ones. It is about spending time with the ones I love and treasuring those moments, as they are fluid and seem to pass all too soon. The wonderful thing about memories is that we can transcend time and revisit them as often as we wish.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
My Christmas Soapbox
We hear it in countless songs, we see it all over the television: it's the most wonderful time of the year. It seems split, however, when you look at the people around you. People are lonely, anxious, or irritated at the commercialism that haunts the holiday. People cannot get past that the holiday they celebrate isn't the only one celebrated, and get angry when wished something other than the holiday they celebrate. Some people are grieving, others lack faith, hope, or peace. Some people revel in the holiday festivities, joyous that they can give to their friends and family. People curl up in front of fires or gather together drinking hot chocolate and watching their favorite traditional Christmas special. Either people are happy and soaking up every bit of holiday cheer or they are miserable and wishing that this time of year would just hurry up and get over with.
I generally find myself all over the board on the holiday emotional rollercoaster, somewhere between the rise of holiday nostalgia and the fall of never having enough money to buy everyone everything I wanted to. Yet, Christmas is not about the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Hanukkah is not about candy coins. Of course we have our traditions, comradery, our share of distresses. That is all a part of this human experience we call life. These holidays are much more than all of that. It is a time to recognize the miracles that happen all year round. It is a time to find peace and joy in our lives that might otherwise be full of chaos and anxiety. Christmas, Hanukkah, and pretty much any other winter holiday is meant to remember what God has done in our lives, a time to cling to our family and friends, a time to pay it forward and make this world a better place to live in. So the next time someone cuts you off in traffic, rather than being angry and letting it ruin your whole day, think for a moment about what that person might be going through. Say a prayer for him or her. The next time you feel rushed or worry about which bills you can postpone and which ones you cant, think for a moment of the families around the world who do not have roofs over their heads, a warm place to sleep, or food for their children. As our children open their many presents this holiday, remember to be thankful for the abundant blessings in our lives. And if there is anything we can do to pay it forward, such as committing to a cause that helps other people dig wells for clean drinking water or provide food, clothes, toys, and medical care to children who are less fortunate than our own.
Matthew 25:40 "And the King will say, 'I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!'" (NLT)
I generally find myself all over the board on the holiday emotional rollercoaster, somewhere between the rise of holiday nostalgia and the fall of never having enough money to buy everyone everything I wanted to. Yet, Christmas is not about the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Hanukkah is not about candy coins. Of course we have our traditions, comradery, our share of distresses. That is all a part of this human experience we call life. These holidays are much more than all of that. It is a time to recognize the miracles that happen all year round. It is a time to find peace and joy in our lives that might otherwise be full of chaos and anxiety. Christmas, Hanukkah, and pretty much any other winter holiday is meant to remember what God has done in our lives, a time to cling to our family and friends, a time to pay it forward and make this world a better place to live in. So the next time someone cuts you off in traffic, rather than being angry and letting it ruin your whole day, think for a moment about what that person might be going through. Say a prayer for him or her. The next time you feel rushed or worry about which bills you can postpone and which ones you cant, think for a moment of the families around the world who do not have roofs over their heads, a warm place to sleep, or food for their children. As our children open their many presents this holiday, remember to be thankful for the abundant blessings in our lives. And if there is anything we can do to pay it forward, such as committing to a cause that helps other people dig wells for clean drinking water or provide food, clothes, toys, and medical care to children who are less fortunate than our own.
Matthew 25:40 "And the King will say, 'I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!'" (NLT)
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Million Things
It's that time of year again, friends. That time of year where we are faced with the reality that Christmas is just 2 paychecks away (those of us who even get regular paychecks), the stores are always packed, those familiar holiday songs that have been forever ingrained in our minds since we were children come obnoxiously back to haunt us over and over whenever we run errands, our children want anything and everything they see on the television commercials that air during their favorite programs, the bills seem ever growing, and oh yea... that turkey you have no idea how to cook but because you wanted to carry on the family tradition you volunteered yourself for the task only to pray that you don't somehow dehydrate and under cook it at the same time... Its no wonder that when Thanksgiving arrives most of us don't even feel like we have time to think about being thankful, let alone try to find something to be thankful for. And yet, we have a million things right under our noses to be thankful for and most of the time we take them for granted.
So when it comes to Thanksgiving, why is it so special to me and why do I feel that it is a very important part in American culture? Simple: It makes life happier. You might be sitting there reading this wondering if I have completely lost it, which is an easy assumption- especially for those of you who don't know me (and some who do.) I know, I know, there is someone that you rub the wrong way or that rubs you the wrong way that you will inevitably have to see at some point on Thanksgiving. Or you might be thinking that Thanksgiving is the perfect day for food consumption and naps with football games and parades humming in the background so that you don't have to think at all. I can understand that for most people, Thanksgiving is one of those given holidays that you know you have off. Some people don't have that luxury. And it is nice to have a day where one does not have to think. But I believe that Thanksgiving is one of those days meant for thinking.
First of all, most of us know the story behind the day. But to most of us that is all it is: a story. But think about this for a moment: when those pilgrims and those Wapanohoag that came together it was a true celebration of the first success those first pilgrims experienced. It was thankfulness for surviving and the providence of God, and for those Native Americans who helped them learn about this new world. That first winter here for the puritans we know as Pilgrims was devastating, so that first Thanksgiving was more than just a feast.
When was the last time we gave thanks for surviving? Or for the homes we live in? Or the cars we drive? Or the warm clothes, heat, and food we eat? I don't see any of us scrounging in the woods chasing wild birds so that we can provide for our families and hope to survive the winter. I know some of you hunt for sport, but these people hunted to survive.
Now, here is where it gets a little more personal for me and my family. My grandfather has made it his mission to learn as much as he can about our family and trace us back as far as he can go. And he has done an amazing job of it, not only telling us hundreds of stories about our forefathers/mothers, but instilling in us the importance of heritage. In order to understand who we are it helps to know where we come from. One of the things he learned was that we not only come from the Pilgrims, but specifically can trace us back to several. This makes perfect sense actually because they were a community, it would make sense that their children would marry. So when we think of Thanksgiving and celebrate, we have the benefit of knowing that these people that started it all were not just nameless faceless pilgrims from a story book, but that they were individuals who had stories to tell and lives to live. When we celebrate we remember our great-something-odd grandparents such as the Standish family, The Bradfords, the Carvers, and the Cooks. We know their stories and we understand that because they survived, because they were adventurous and bold, we are here now. These are the things that I have the privilege of teaching my children now, and I hope that they too will understand and share in the family pride on this particular holiday.
Another unique thing for us on Thanksgiving is that I married a man who is part Native American. He is not Wapanohoag, he is part Sioux. However that does not diminish the fact that we both come from people that contributed to this country's beginnings, and we come from people that did not fully understand or accept one another. I love to look at my family as "coming full circle". Our ancestors were from completely different cultures, and there have been rifts and angst over the years, but here we are, centuries later, sharing our histories and uniting as a family. Thanksgiving is a great reminder for me of these things.
So as we head to my Grandparents' house to celebrate Thanksgiving and then over to Seth's cousin's place for dessert, we find ourselves thankful for many many things, including our family and our heritages that our children get to be a part of.
I am also thankful for where God has brought me and my family in life. It amazes me as I look over the past decade and I see where I was and where I am. I see the many times God has provided for my family in the most random ways. This is where I feel connected to the story of George Mueller. He was a missionary in the nineteenth century and he never asked for handouts or money. He ran orphanages and would often never have enough food to feed the children. This man had incredible faith and would sit the children down for meals and say grace as if they would have a meal, even if he did not know where it would come from, and many times he was rewarded for his faith and God would provide. I think of times as a child where groceries would show up on the doorstep or a friend would have extra milk due to a miscommunication with her spouse and we were blessed as a result. I think of the numerous occasions where we were given grocery gift cards anonymously at times where we needed them most. I think of the random turkeys that were given to us because people felt led by God to do that, not knowing our financial situation. I think of the time we got a grocery card with a note that simply read, "He knows your needs and is faithful to provide." That note is still on my fridge to this day to remind us constantly that God is taking care of us no matter what might come our way. I think of the turkey we just received yesterday because some good people donated them to the base my husband works at and I think of how much of a blessing that was. I think of how my children are my little miracles. My daughter was born 8lbs 3 oz and a week before she was born the doctors were concerned that she was going to be insanely underweight. They couldn't explain the weight gain. Rylee had a perfect APGAR score to boot. My son was born after I had miscarried and I will forever be grateful for Samuel. I feel a connection to Hannah from the Bible who cried out to God for a child and God heard her and blessed her with a son, also named Samuel. (Our son is not named for the Biblical Samuel, but for my husband's oldest friends in the world: Samuel and Luke.)
I am thankful for growth in my life and the mistakes I made and had the opportunity to learn from. There have been some very trying times for me and my family growing up for various reasons I have covered in previous postings, and each time I have come out of it a little stronger, a little lighter, and a lot brighter. I'm being refined here, and while I know I will never be perfect, I hope that I can be used of God in wonderful ways in raising my children and sharing my testimony with others. I am thankful for the first, second, third, tenth, and hundredth chances I have been given and the grace God has bestowed on anyone who simply asks for it. I'm thankful that I can devote my life to God in return.
I am thankful that I was raised in a solid Christian home and that I have not only been born to parents who love me, but I was chosen. (See my Father's Day post.) There is something truly beautiful in being chosen, and for those of you readers who are familiar with adoption might be able to relate to this. I might not have been planned by my earthly parents, but God has a plan for me. I was chosen by my earthly father and my heavenly one. Yea, I think that is definitely something to be immensely thankful for.
I am thankful for college and the training that my husband Seth and I are getting in order to continue God's work and fulfill the call God has on our lives. I am thankful that we live in a country in which I can freely share my faith with others and not be arrested, beaten, or thrown in prison as a result.
I am thankful that my children get full medical care, that they are clothed, they have toys and books, and that they are well fed. My heart breaks for the countless children around the world that do not have these things based solely on the circumstances of birth. No child should go hungry or cold. I would love to see this change, and will do what I can to help. I am thankful that my church, and countless others will give of their time and money and pack countless shoe boxes with Christmas presents filled with toys and necessities for children that don't have the same privileges we take for granted, and all because of the Love of God.
I am thankful for my friends and family that accept me and love me in spite of my faults and idiosyncrasies. I am thankful for the call God has put on my life and for whatever comes my way, including future mistakes and troubles I might stumble through on the way, as I know it just refines me that much more to be a more effective tool for God's work and parenting.
So this year as Thanksgiving, and even Christmas, approaches, if you find yourself struggling to find things to be thankful for, open your eyes and look around. That is the perfect place to start. There really are a million things and maybe this year we should really take the time to think and count our blessings.
So when it comes to Thanksgiving, why is it so special to me and why do I feel that it is a very important part in American culture? Simple: It makes life happier. You might be sitting there reading this wondering if I have completely lost it, which is an easy assumption- especially for those of you who don't know me (and some who do.) I know, I know, there is someone that you rub the wrong way or that rubs you the wrong way that you will inevitably have to see at some point on Thanksgiving. Or you might be thinking that Thanksgiving is the perfect day for food consumption and naps with football games and parades humming in the background so that you don't have to think at all. I can understand that for most people, Thanksgiving is one of those given holidays that you know you have off. Some people don't have that luxury. And it is nice to have a day where one does not have to think. But I believe that Thanksgiving is one of those days meant for thinking.
First of all, most of us know the story behind the day. But to most of us that is all it is: a story. But think about this for a moment: when those pilgrims and those Wapanohoag that came together it was a true celebration of the first success those first pilgrims experienced. It was thankfulness for surviving and the providence of God, and for those Native Americans who helped them learn about this new world. That first winter here for the puritans we know as Pilgrims was devastating, so that first Thanksgiving was more than just a feast.
When was the last time we gave thanks for surviving? Or for the homes we live in? Or the cars we drive? Or the warm clothes, heat, and food we eat? I don't see any of us scrounging in the woods chasing wild birds so that we can provide for our families and hope to survive the winter. I know some of you hunt for sport, but these people hunted to survive.
Now, here is where it gets a little more personal for me and my family. My grandfather has made it his mission to learn as much as he can about our family and trace us back as far as he can go. And he has done an amazing job of it, not only telling us hundreds of stories about our forefathers/mothers, but instilling in us the importance of heritage. In order to understand who we are it helps to know where we come from. One of the things he learned was that we not only come from the Pilgrims, but specifically can trace us back to several. This makes perfect sense actually because they were a community, it would make sense that their children would marry. So when we think of Thanksgiving and celebrate, we have the benefit of knowing that these people that started it all were not just nameless faceless pilgrims from a story book, but that they were individuals who had stories to tell and lives to live. When we celebrate we remember our great-something-odd grandparents such as the Standish family, The Bradfords, the Carvers, and the Cooks. We know their stories and we understand that because they survived, because they were adventurous and bold, we are here now. These are the things that I have the privilege of teaching my children now, and I hope that they too will understand and share in the family pride on this particular holiday.
Another unique thing for us on Thanksgiving is that I married a man who is part Native American. He is not Wapanohoag, he is part Sioux. However that does not diminish the fact that we both come from people that contributed to this country's beginnings, and we come from people that did not fully understand or accept one another. I love to look at my family as "coming full circle". Our ancestors were from completely different cultures, and there have been rifts and angst over the years, but here we are, centuries later, sharing our histories and uniting as a family. Thanksgiving is a great reminder for me of these things.
So as we head to my Grandparents' house to celebrate Thanksgiving and then over to Seth's cousin's place for dessert, we find ourselves thankful for many many things, including our family and our heritages that our children get to be a part of.
I am also thankful for where God has brought me and my family in life. It amazes me as I look over the past decade and I see where I was and where I am. I see the many times God has provided for my family in the most random ways. This is where I feel connected to the story of George Mueller. He was a missionary in the nineteenth century and he never asked for handouts or money. He ran orphanages and would often never have enough food to feed the children. This man had incredible faith and would sit the children down for meals and say grace as if they would have a meal, even if he did not know where it would come from, and many times he was rewarded for his faith and God would provide. I think of times as a child where groceries would show up on the doorstep or a friend would have extra milk due to a miscommunication with her spouse and we were blessed as a result. I think of the numerous occasions where we were given grocery gift cards anonymously at times where we needed them most. I think of the random turkeys that were given to us because people felt led by God to do that, not knowing our financial situation. I think of the time we got a grocery card with a note that simply read, "He knows your needs and is faithful to provide." That note is still on my fridge to this day to remind us constantly that God is taking care of us no matter what might come our way. I think of the turkey we just received yesterday because some good people donated them to the base my husband works at and I think of how much of a blessing that was. I think of how my children are my little miracles. My daughter was born 8lbs 3 oz and a week before she was born the doctors were concerned that she was going to be insanely underweight. They couldn't explain the weight gain. Rylee had a perfect APGAR score to boot. My son was born after I had miscarried and I will forever be grateful for Samuel. I feel a connection to Hannah from the Bible who cried out to God for a child and God heard her and blessed her with a son, also named Samuel. (Our son is not named for the Biblical Samuel, but for my husband's oldest friends in the world: Samuel and Luke.)
I am thankful for growth in my life and the mistakes I made and had the opportunity to learn from. There have been some very trying times for me and my family growing up for various reasons I have covered in previous postings, and each time I have come out of it a little stronger, a little lighter, and a lot brighter. I'm being refined here, and while I know I will never be perfect, I hope that I can be used of God in wonderful ways in raising my children and sharing my testimony with others. I am thankful for the first, second, third, tenth, and hundredth chances I have been given and the grace God has bestowed on anyone who simply asks for it. I'm thankful that I can devote my life to God in return.
I am thankful that I was raised in a solid Christian home and that I have not only been born to parents who love me, but I was chosen. (See my Father's Day post.) There is something truly beautiful in being chosen, and for those of you readers who are familiar with adoption might be able to relate to this. I might not have been planned by my earthly parents, but God has a plan for me. I was chosen by my earthly father and my heavenly one. Yea, I think that is definitely something to be immensely thankful for.
I am thankful for college and the training that my husband Seth and I are getting in order to continue God's work and fulfill the call God has on our lives. I am thankful that we live in a country in which I can freely share my faith with others and not be arrested, beaten, or thrown in prison as a result.
I am thankful that my children get full medical care, that they are clothed, they have toys and books, and that they are well fed. My heart breaks for the countless children around the world that do not have these things based solely on the circumstances of birth. No child should go hungry or cold. I would love to see this change, and will do what I can to help. I am thankful that my church, and countless others will give of their time and money and pack countless shoe boxes with Christmas presents filled with toys and necessities for children that don't have the same privileges we take for granted, and all because of the Love of God.
I am thankful for my friends and family that accept me and love me in spite of my faults and idiosyncrasies. I am thankful for the call God has put on my life and for whatever comes my way, including future mistakes and troubles I might stumble through on the way, as I know it just refines me that much more to be a more effective tool for God's work and parenting.
So this year as Thanksgiving, and even Christmas, approaches, if you find yourself struggling to find things to be thankful for, open your eyes and look around. That is the perfect place to start. There really are a million things and maybe this year we should really take the time to think and count our blessings.
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