Beauty

Where do you see it? Is it in a piece of hand blown glass? Is it in the eyes of a hurting soul? A sunset? The ocean? A flower? Do you see it in a smile? A tear? The sky? A building? Do you like green eggs and ham? I had to throw that in there!!!
Comment and tell me where you have found beauty this summer... The pictures are of two pieces of beauty I photographed at the Phipps conservatory in Pittsburgh, one is a picture of amazing glass art by Dale Chihuly. The second is natural art, floral. The others are photographs I took of a little girl I met in Belize, a sunset in Belize,
and a church in Minneapolis ( I believe it is the Basilica St. Mary)

Baby you and me... we have a groovy kind of love...

As Lyndsay nears her 20th birthday, it has been evoking a lot of memories from the time I found out I was pregnant with her... I could write an essay about how I felt , but rather than that today I feel like just posting a list of words that reflected that time period in my life...Someday, maybe I will elaborate...

• FEAR
• JUDGED
  
• WORRIED
• ANGRY
• REGRETFUL
• SECRETIVE
• ASHAMED
• CONFUSED
  
• TORN
• ALONE
• SAD
• SEPARATED
• DECIDED
• JOYFUL
• RELIEVED
• STRONG
• PROUD
• FORGIVEN
• BLESSED
• APPREHENSIVE
• FAT
• CONFIDENT
• INSECURE
• PROTECTIVE
• SELFLESS
• SELFISH
• DEPENDENT
• NAIVE
  
• WEAK
• AWESTRUCK

This list could go on and on, as a single 18 turning 19 year old, this time of my life was overwhelming. So many things changed from one choice I made, and then I was forced to make a lot of other life altering choices. I am so blessed that I made the choice I did to keep this child...and yet I have so much compassion and heartbreak for any one in this position, and it has taught me to be loving and compassionate to any young person who has to suddenly start making very adult decisions, I can confidently say that I will not judge any young woman for her regrets, poor choices, decisions made during a time like this. A lot of times she is alone, and has kept the weight of these choices 100% on her own shoulders. I wonder if, and how we can equip our young women to be good decision makers? To my friends, and anyone else that happens to read this, and has been in this situation, I Love you, I understand...
A note on the picture... this is the ONLY newborn picture I have of Lyndsay and myself...it got triple exposed, and in a bittersweet way, it reflects my mindset that day, a nurse came in about a half hour before this and asked me when my husband was coming to visit...I was confused, I was in a lot of pain, I was scared, and I was clueless on how to care for this child. I sang her a song that day... Phil Collins Groovy Kind of love.

Hold on tight the night has come...

John is gone this week. He is in Detroit , MI learning how not to get fatally shocked by hybrid vehicles. I haven't thought about it, but I really haven't been in my bed at night too many nights by myself for a long time... I couldn't sleep! I usually blame John on that (he snores)...because he broke his nose sledding off the roof of his barn when he was a child... ( Only John)
I kept hearing things. I swear I head someone walking through the hallway, Oh yeah that was Leah coming in past curfew! The I am sure I heard growling...And I have to admit that was my wimpy dog Samson , and then I thought maybe the intruder was scaring the dog. Then Leah called me from her room, at 3 am and said "did you hear that???" ... And then I about had a heart attack when I heard a huge explosion ( thunder). I thought I saw someone standing over my bed staring at me... Leah again!
So, I am starting to realize how comforting it is having John home, not only for me , but for the kids too. I think Luke would have been awake, but football practice makes him sleep like a baby!

It is funny how little we realize things like this until they are not there. It is interesting how we can have so much safety tied up in a person.The irony in the whole thing is normally, John falls asleep watching ESPN2, sound asleep, Luke and I even painted his toenails while he was sleeping the other night, he didn't even twitch!(see photo) Sometimes, I admit that I am glad he fell asleep downstairs because I won't hear him snoring. I think If he was here: it would take a huge event to wake him, so the comfort obviously is emotional, and not based on the realistic fact that I would probably be the one calling 911, and trying to wake up John!

Every time I woke up , I kept singing the lyrics to an Indigo girls song "Secure yourself to heaven, hold on tight the night has come, fasten up your earthly burdens, you have just begun"...

Heaven... now that is a whole new blog topic, that I plan to write about soon that was sparked by a conversation with my dear friend Vic and I had the other day!

So, tonight, I hope I sleep better, but at least I realize how much I am blessed to have such an awesome husband, that makes me feel safe, no matter what the safety feeling is based on!

Swimming Lesson

I have become a pen pal with a person I met when we went to volunteer at Kingdom meal ministries at the Salvation Army, with Jon and Ang about a month or so ago. His name is Stephen and he kept saying, "boy I wish someone would write to me"-and I thought, I love to write letters. I always tell my friends how much I love paper, special pens and how I see "snail mail" correspondence as a dying art. So, I thought, what better thing to offer than to be someones pen pal? Over the last several weeks Stephen and I have written about 8 letters between the two of us. His handwriting and verbiage is that of a young child, he seems to be mentally at that level, according to the style and content of his letters. It is endearing, and very innocent. He always tells me that he loves getting my letters. I am very clear when I write to him that I am happily married, and have three children. In the last letter he told me that I was his best friend, his special friend, forever and always. As I read that over I thought "Oh boy, have I got in over my head?" . I wonder what imposes such a fear within us? All the sudden I came to the realization that I cannot stop writing to him because he has put me in a role of being very important to him. I also had a bit of fear , because he wants to know where I work, and where the kids go to school and where John works, and i keep thinking what if he stalks me?
Last night, as I went to bed and tried to saturate a very long emotional weekend, I kept thinking about people that depend on me. I had quite a tough "mom of a teenager" weekend, and having her tell me that she is almost 18, and I shouldn't worry, and I should just let her make her own curfew, and then having her very ill the next day with a high fever, painful ears and throat, and asking if she could sleep in my bed, and wanted me to hold her head against my shoulder to ease the pain, and also to comfort her, I am sure. She also apologized for the night before, and I think she realizes she depends on me. She committed to trying to show John and I more respect than she had this weekend, hopefully it wasn't the fever talking.
Putting the two together I am starting to realize that the way I can be a support to others is just to be "ME". I love to write, so put all my fears aside and keep on writing, joyfully to Stephen(using common sense, and not giving him all my personal info) yet offering what I have, and that is my love to write, and read letters.
I can show love to Leah, by continuing to pray for her , and offering her my shoulder, and my love, even when I am angry at her, even when she makes me think, "boy I'm in over my head!"

Well, I can swim, pretty well, and I love to swim.

I need to remind myself that when I think that I am "in over my head", that I don't need to be afraid.

I know how to "swim", I won't drown.

Supermom??

I hope you all read my profile and realize that the "supermom" title is tongue in cheek. I am very ready to say that I fall short of that stereotype, and am very glad of it. I often am amused when a friend asks me for advice....I often feel very incompetent when it comes to dishing out parenting advice. I think the best I have given was to simply Love them. How do we love as a parent ? I know there are books, written, sermons preached ,arguments had, marriages destroyed over this question. My answer is a question, how don't we love? I can think of times that I have to step back and just look at what I am doing as a parent. For example, the other day John, Luke and I were headed back from the airport from dropping off Lynds, and I am sure I was a little sad, and into my own emotions, and really not focused on anything but ME! Luke kept saying Mom, give me your camera, I want to take a picture of that cloud b/c it looks like a bull... and I wouldn't let him have it...WHY??? I have no clue... very bummed he slumped down in his seat and asked me, "Why do you have to be like that???" Well, I got defensive at first, and it took me about eight hours to realize that I was very unreasonable, and as I was journaling at bedtime, I realized that I don't want to be "like that"... Luke was in bed, but just went to bed, and I went to talk to him to tell him I was sorry, and I want him to be able to take joy in seeing things in nature, and I want him to get excited about things like clouds! I love taking photographs, and why wouldn't I want him to share that love!? He was still kinda sad about it, and I am very glad that I didn't ignore the nudging I was getting to say something and talk about it. Too many times we just act "like that" and move on, without addressing it. I am sure that I can come up with may other examples of situations with Lyndsay and Leah also. All I can say is I try to love them the best I know how.
So, supermom? NOT.....
Imperfect mom, yes, and thats OK!

Flowers, they look like us

I went to Fellows Riverside Gardens this past Sunday with some friends, our intention was to pray and enjoy the beauty of the surroundings. We broke off by ourselves or in couples for a while.I felt drawn to start photographing the flowers. Normally I don't spend a lot of time looking closely at flowers, but as I zoomed in on them, through my lens, I saw the uniqueness of each one...some were seemingly perfect, some were ate up with disease, some were wilted, and some were brand new, some were broken, and some were small and some were large.

As we gathered back together the discussion began. The gardens sit right on the edge of Y-town, polluted, one of the largest murder rates in the nation, the edge of this beautiful garden is right by the bustling highway. I have been reading the Beautiful Mess by Rick McKinley, and the title of that book seemed like a good way to describe where we were sitting , right in a beautiful mess. When we closed out eyes to pray, the sounds became more intense. I could hear the highway sounds, on one side, then I could hear birds chirping, and children laughing on the other side.

Beauty combined with mess. Isn't that what life is?

We like the flowers ,are a combination of perfection (patterned after Jesus) and disease,brokenness, we are wilted, small, large, new, young and old, and yet with all those factors, we create a beautiful image.

I took the picture below, along with others, and as you look at it, the first impression is beauty, color. As you look closer, (click on it to enlarge)you can see a disease ridden leaf, small flowers, large ones, dying ones, beautiful ones.

Look a little closer the next time you see a group of flowers, think about how we are like them. They were created to be beautiful, and yet need nurturing.

Hair on the floor...

Lyndsays home and I am loving it... I really did miss her, and this seems like the last trip that she will make that will last this long. Once she starts her career, she will be committed to a full time work schedule, and will assume the responsibility and pressure of carrying her own health insurance (she is dropped off of ours since she graduated), bills, rent, groceries,etc. She actually has been responsible of everything on the list beyond the health insurance since she moved away. She is a very responsible independent person, and I admire that. I mention it because I feel like once she starts working in her career, she will be limited to that one or two weeks a year vacation that most Americans are limited to , and sometimes can not even enjoy.Well, that's a long lead in to this blog...
Since she has been home, our dining room has been transformed into a salon. As some of you know we recently remodeled our dining room, and our old home doesn't have many rooms that are 100% remodeled. Being a tiny bit anal, the first day I saw the hair dye come out in that room, I panicked inside. I thought "Great! now this room will have dye staining the floor, and it will be a mess!" I wanted her to express her creativity and talent, yet I was so worried about the room, that I kept following her around with a spray bottle of bleach, and a broom, then something amazing happened. I sat down for a minute and observed the community feeling that was beginning to develop. People were pulling in and out of the driveway and gathering around my table for more than food. Conversations were developing and strangers were being introduced to each other, people were gathering that were not even getting a hair service done. Many emotions are evoked when one allows someone to cut or dye their hair; venerability, bravery, freedom, fear, anger, hope for a change, separation anxiety (from the lost hair!) ,change, confusion, indecisiveness, regret, amusement, excitment, happieness, the list could go on. Being in an enviroment where those emotions are flying around the room, and seeing transformation happen in a matter of an hour or two is very symbolic , and interesting. I keep wondering how I can create an environment that can continue to have the same type of gathering and conversation continue...
So , all the hair and dye on the floor seems to be worth the small , and more than likely temporary community that was formed this last month. It will be a bit sad to see it end.