Do Hard Things

I am sure it is a tagline somewhere - "Do Hard Things."
Hard things like what?
Take the Hessians on Christmas Morn?
Unite individual states "into a more perfect union"?
Sit for 3 days of class from 9am-4pm?
Spend less time on Facebook?
How about cuff and hem 3 pair of pants?

So I am reading The Core: Teaching your Children the Foundations of Classical Education in preparation for our new school year -Kindergarten and 3 year old pre-school. I am thinking and reading about modern education and how it has been watered down.

My Grandpop never forgot the poems he memorized in grammar school. He could still rattle off "This is the forest primeval..." even in his 90s. To me he is proof  of what a fine grammar school education should look like. They memorized facts, poems etc and they carried the information with them through their life.

These young years, their brains are sponges for information. They soak it up, training their brains to remember information that will be used as they get older. The classical model of education has children memorizing information - some of it seems a little lofty but why not try?

Modern educational practices poo-poo memorization as archaic. They want to use invented spelling and calculators. I have never bought into that but understanding the Classical approach I understand why better.

I want to teach my kids to Do Hard Things. We have a generation of kids who go to schools that have removed rigor from the equation. The rely on calculators, they don't have to memorize time tables. Kids don't or can't do hard things. They want things to be flashy and fun and colorful. We have trained them for that, rather than training them to gain personal satisfaction from achieving something they had to work hard for. ( Realize I am speaking in broad generalizations. )

I am pretty sure my grandpop memorizing poetry for class wasn't flashy - but he worked rigorously and it stuck with him for the duration of his life.

I know there will be protests. I started formulating my responses and I was convicted that I can't ask them to Do Hard Things if I am not also willing to do hard things.

Things like hemming a cuff into 3 pairs of pants or seeking to spend my time better.

So that is my plan, we will strive to do hard things and shrink from rigorous learning.

The Classics

The next few posts will be a short series on Classical insights.

In the fall, we will be joining a Classical Conversations Community. In preparation, I went to a 3 day practicum in June. "Practicum" now there is a word I haven't used since I was in college.

I had some reservations about going. Mostly, could I sit and pay attention from 9-4 for 3 days with just a break for lunch? As it turns out I am able to sit; it helps that the speaker was inspiring. I got a chance to see the daily nitty gritty of this learning approach and also a glimpse of what I hope is the end "product."

I am really excited.

These are the reasons why....

A Better Way

At the end of the day, I always think what can I do tomorrow to make it a better day?
What new way - can I actually put into practice that will achieve new and better results? Results that will increase obedience, clear off the freezer top, no food crumbs on the floor, less yelling, more soft answers, more grace, less impatience.

Most days by bedtime - I feel a failure because I never wrote down that inspiring verse I want to have right under my freaking nose. I didn't pray enough. My house is in shambles. I caved and gave them grilled cheese and dried pineapples for dinner instead of what I made for dinner. Spent too much time on facebook and crawled into bed way too late.

The daily beating up of myself is taking its toll.

I don't see a way out of this thinking, failure is everywhere I turn. Half of what I think I regret, Half of what I say I regret. How do I stop these thoughts? How do I start seeing the positives instead of the negatives?

Then, out of the blue someone will come along and boost me up. Filling up the depleted. Reminding me that I am an interesting person, a pleasure to be around and actually have something to offer that people appreciate. I am reminded that the daily grind is hard but you do your best and trust that God is going to help fructify all the hard work I do.

Then, with that renewed strength I spend less time on facebook and start looking for small ways to make changes. Lately, this better way has me feeling less like a failure so I count that a blessing.

So Much Like Jonah

We studied the Prophets in Bible study this spring and Jonah was up. I was feeling way down, swallowed up in the belly of my miserable grumpiness. Who knows over what. Oh wait, I remember...but it doesn't matter.
What matters is....

Oh the ways I am like Jonah!

Even when I know better, I still don't want to go to the person I am called to go too because it is just too hard to talk about hard things.

So, I run.

I think of my needs first.

I want God's mercy on my own terms.

I feel like I am being punished instead of pursued.

He has me, despite me. (Thank God for that!)

So the interesting thing to me about Jonah -the book- is the untidy ending. Jonah is angry. He is frustrated by God's mercy instead of blessed. If it is possible for God to be frustrated and still sinless, then I would have to say He sounds a little frustrated to me too. When He says to Jonah in the last verse of the book:

And should I not pity Nineveh, that great city, in which are more than one hundred and twenty thousand persons who cannot discern between their right hand and their left—and much livestock?”(Jonah 4:11)

So the ending isn't clean but neither is life.
The ending leaves us wondering and waiting for someone who has the answers.
Someone whose compassion knows no bounds, whose concern for the lost is worth dying for.

God used Jonah to show us all how desperately we need His mercy. God also knew He would never run from the hard job of helping people understand what their right and left hands are doing.

So the untidy ending stands to remind us of man's humanity and of God's stubborn mercy.

A reminder I frequently need! 

Sweet Voices

It was dark. It was quiet. I crossed the bridge with lights all around; keeping pace with the cars in front. I was in my zone, focused on the lights.

Thoughts came of the multiple trips over this bridge each week to go meet up with friends. How many times did I load myself up and drive 45+ minutes to hang out and maybe just maybe meet someone special? Never happened that way.  But for a brief second, I was alone and I was headed to dinner and movie in King of Prussia. Unfazed by the distance or by how late I would be driving home.

Then, a small high-pitched voice called out, "Mommy?"  How did this happen? I was transported to the reality of my life. Her sweet voice a vacuum. A life I never thought possible 10 years ago, driving over this very bridge meeting up on the off chances...

Strange how even after 5 years into the parenting thing, it still surprises me. The fear of their non-existence was that strong.

In the midst of hum drum, their sweet faces fill me to the brim. They challenge me. They grow me. Their sweet voices are my reality. Their loud ones too.

Great Decisions

There is something to be said for daylight streaming through the window and two sweet and sleeping children.

There is something to be said for solitude and quiet during the afternoon.
Something different than bedtime.
Something rare and decadent.
Something that leaves me wondering...
     
What the heck do I do now?

The list is long! The time will fly by.
Do I nap, cook, wrap presents (it was Christmastime), catch up on QuickBooks?!

I decide to do the second most indulgent thing - the first being a nap.
I put my feet up and read.

I was inspired by this quote from the book The Best Yes: Making Wise Decision in the Midst of Endless Demands.

"Great descriptions (of people) are birthed from great decisions."

Just let that sink in.

A fitting jewel to find considering my eldest was taking a nap as a "punishment" for being disobedient - that is making bad decisions.

From there, I dozed for a few minutes woke up refreshed and inspired. I moved on to the Christmas cards that were pursing their lips at me to hurry up and get them done.

Its hard enough to decide what to do when one is sleeping but two is such an anomaly anymore. I felt the need to make the most of it but maybe making the most really has more to do with not doing and just being.

I made a lot of decisions on this day, some not so good choices. I think I made a good decision on this one thing though.  Maybe someday - some day very far from today- someone will be able to say, "Liz, she knows how to use her time wisely." That is a description I would be pleased to give birth to.

The Trees

This week a storm ripped through my hometown and its neighboring towns. It wasn't a tornado but these winds did a number on South Jersey. Tree and power lines are down all over the Garden State.

My parents lost almost all their trees, have a hole in their roof and a broken chimney on their deck.
Its hard to comprehend so much damage to a place I love so much. I am only seeing the pictures and my heart is broken.

Sometimes the best way to  process sadness is through poetry.  So my ode to The Trees.....


The Trees

Trees you beautiful trees
Long gone are the hands who dug the hole and planted you
In celebration or remembrance or to buffer homes from dynamite

Tall memories growing of Christmases long ago
Snapshots taken
Needles falling softly with the seasons

Days under their shade, crab pots cooking, lawn chairs lazing,
Squirrels gathering, autumn colors, raking, trimming, berries at Christmastime
Always growing in presence in our little part of the world.

Their life, service, beauty is ended their days are done
Even trees don't last forever but they leave memories
They were our silent friends, whose presence gone, is felt.



So long old friends.

Why I Love Being Your Mother - 2015

I am keeping with my tradition to celebrate Mother's Day by telling my children why I love being their mother -via blog. Made possible today because both of you sweet children are sleeping after a long day of romping through Winterthur. So I sit here in the quiet house, birds chirping, an airplane flying overhead and I am excited and also wracking my brains so I can spin words worthy of you.

Dear Walter,
You have grown 4 inches this year according to the Dr. Imperceptible to me. What I have seen is the list of sight words you know without batting an eye. How you notice things everywhere after they have been pointed out to you. Things like columns on buildings, you see them everywhere now. You have storehouse of songs you recognize and sing along with on the radio. I will never tire of hearing you sing about Jesus. Most recently, you love the "Lalala song" and "Those were the Days" by Sythian. I half wonder whether it is a good thing that you and your sister have nearly memorized 2 songs about a Tavern, but you sing with such passion and gusto I can't help myself. I love to see you slip and slide to the W's in kitchen. The wealth of knowledge you have learned from watching the Octonauts is staggering. I love that you love quality shows and learn so much from them. And then are happy to pass on the information you have learned to whomever you choose to share it with.

You always leave me guessing as to who you will be conversational with. You will open up to veritable strangers checking out groceries or admitting us to a museum but will play coy with a friend or relative. It is no doubt to me though that people who know you love you and think you are an awesome kid.

I love you because you have helped me worry less about your well being by finally beginning to try new things. It has been a year of struggle and pleading but those rare occasions where you said, "Ok I will try it" are like shining bright spots. Apples, pears, chicken, pasta, chipsteak, chocolate banana smoothies all new foods for you; foods I can count on you to eat. I am proud of you for trying. And I will gladly accept carrots dipped in a Nutella as an option if it gets the carrots to your belly.   

I love how excited you get about things, saying, "Yahoo." I never tire of your ability to entertain yourself. Lego creations, Octonauts, Paw Patrol, pinecone collection, books about trains, computer games, elaborate train layouts, these are your things, your interests. Things that  make you - Walter. You love your sister and your friends. The bond you have with your sister is truly the sweetest thing in my life. To see you two sit together and watch a show, have a tea party, play in the pink kitchen, sit side by side in the sandbox, talk to one another in the early morning - parents can't ask for much more than for their children to love one another and get along as well as you both do. May it always be so.

There are many days I feel like I blow it with you, days when I feel really bad for the way I said something or did something. You are perpetually forgiving. Your sweet hugs and bright blue eyes looking into mine always reveal great love and forgiveness.

You are the most interesting and interested boy - I love that you are my interesting and interested boy.


Dear Rosie,

You have gone from a nursing "baby" to a "I wanna have a 'pink birthday" girl this year. It hardly seems possible that in a few months you will be 3.  You are pure energy and words. The words that come out of your mouth and your conversations with others or with your toys is always such a wonder to me because you are still this small, wiry, petite thing but you can talk like the rest of us.
It puzzles me that there are actually words you can't say correctly like "fruck" instead of truck and "fineapple" instead of pineapple. So cute though.

What I love about being your mom is that you, sweet Rosie, you know who you are! "Hi fish/squirrel/duck/baby its me Rosie." The reddish curls that frame that sweet creamy face also frame your impish grins and your stubbornness. That is Rosie sweet and beautiful but stubborn and independent. You are a cautious climber. You hate stinkbugs and love dandelion puffs. You are a meat eater. I can't get you to try a piece of fruit for the life me. You like to "do schoolwork." And in a few months, I may be able to stop cringing every time you get a paintbrush in your hand.
I love that love books, that you want to help, that you recognize the people who are your friends and will randomly say, "He is a good friend." You care enough to say "I am going to miss ______" fill in the blank because you will miss a long list of people and things.

I love that you sing and dance. You make up your own songs and you always want to end the day with song like Jesus Loves Me, Twinkle Twinkle. I would love to put a bow or a ponytail in your hair but I kind of love that you have no desire for that. You know you want your hair to be free. I love that I can count on you to remind us to say grace, you fold your hands and "praise the Lord" sincerity. Very recently, you want me to "pray more" -more than just praising God for food- and you will shake your head in agreement as I list off other things to pray for. I hope that you will let that desire sink deep into your soul and that prayer will always be a way of life for you.

I love they way you call your brother "Walder." As I told Walter the relationship you have with your brother is a  priceless treasure. Seeing you care for one another and sharing or trying to learn to share is the best thing in the world.  I love you two because I see the way you love each other and it blesses me beyond words. You are brother and sister but you are friends too.

I love you and everyday I want to love you more.

Mommy

2014 Mother's Day Letter

2013 Mother's Day Letter

John 3:16

Here is a question for you. Who said?

 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

The Red Letter Edition of the Bible puts everything that Jesus said in red letters.
So, let me ask again but make a small change. Who said?

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16

 How is it possible that I am 41 years old and have been reading the Bible almost daily since I was 19 and never knew or realized that it was Jesus who said John 3:16? I guess part of the reason is I haven't always had a red letter edition!

It was a sweet revelation and proof that the Bible is living and breathing as it pours out fresh new knowledge on people who have just missed the obvious.

Somehow knowing it was Jesus who said John 3:16 and not John or any other man makes the verse even more powerful.

This is the week we remember that Jesus lived out these words.
He is God.
He loves us.
He died for us.
He rose for us.
He wants us to believe. 
He wants us with Him.  

Red letters or black let the words sink in deep.

Long Days

Sometimes I envy those mom's who know help will come in time to cook dinner.

We just don't have a schedule like that. I have sort of given up looking forward to the relief. Like magically he would appear in time to distract so I can cook dinner. Or be home in time to eat dinner with us so I am not cleaning up dishes and food so late at night. I have resigned myself, when dad gets home there is not much else to do. Tuck them in and say "good night."

Neither of us like it.

I can remember back babysitting on long summer days. The days were long. It was work. And I couldn't wait for the parents to get home. To do what? Go watch TV? Were it 2015, go check out facebook? That albatross that sucks the life of you.  I digress.

My mom assured me that when it was my own house and my own kids the days wouldn't be so long.
She was right. Most days the clock moves fast, way too fast for the things that need to be done or that I want to do.

There are fewer days that creep along, maybe because I stopped expecting and relying on fresh recruits to relieve me.

Quiet Words

The thing about being a writer -in a world of blogs- you want, you need to put words out there too.

You want to tell the truth.

You want to ring the words of truth like a bell. "Listen, what I say may help." "Listen, I need you to understand." "Listen, I need to get this processed out of me."

Sometime you just can't -I just can't- privacy and pride keep me quiet.

There are no cathartic spilling of thoughts, dreams dashed, desires unmet, sweet joys and triumphs experienced to be shared. Except those trapped in a quiet notebook...

The words aren't meant to be public. They are meant for a quiet life between pages.
Words trying to respect the matter of fact, shoulder shrugging private and bound selves.

It just seems sometimes quiet is cruel and articulation is an enemy.

My One Word for 2015

A New Year - a New "One Word".

To be honest I had forgotten what my 2014 word was. Turns out it was "Seek" I guess I should have known that -I do have reminders above the kitchen sink!

So I have begun to think about what 2015's one word focus will be. What can I expect in 2015? Kindergarten - how the hell did that happen? Maybe the beginning of house shopping? All else is a guessing game and completely in God's hands.

So my word.... Maybe the word needs to have some mystery and excitement to it.

How about - expect? Believe? Be Still?

All good. All a little too generic. A little too lofty. A little too convicting.

Sometime during the course of 2014, my love of pink elephants came to the front of my mind. I have a always had a thing for pink elephants. We go way back... 

"Eleanore" in the background

I posted a couple around the house to serve as visual reminders, to remind me to face the elephant in the room and "seek a better way" one bite at a time! They have helped and I will keep them!

As I considered my one word I thought of my pink elephants. It occurred to me maybe I need a visual word not an abstract character word.

A birthday gift came to my mind. And and just like that I had my idea, my visual, my "One Word."

 Honeybee.

or 

Honey, be!



Honeybee
Work hard
Produce something sweet



Now that's a good goal for the year. Not too heavy. Not too out of the realm of success.