The sibs

My smiling beauties. We all have our strengths, our niches, our struggles. There's an amazing synergy when we're all together.

Jimmy is the leader of the tribe. He is the one that we all look to for direction and answers. He is the one that we delight to disagree with and yet secretly weigh everything he says very seriously. He holds the most power, hands down. His word has the most clout with the parents. He may be the only diplomat among us, able to resolve conflict and bring sanity. He's a child at heart and ushers in a lot of laughter and levity.

I think I'm probably considered somewhat wild, I'm sure I'm considered very opinionated, but I don't doubt their love for me.

Faith is the flower-child. She is the first one of us to have a sparkling personality. She is less introspective than some of us, less of a deep thinker. She contributes some sanity... she keeps us light and laughing.

Nathey has personality up to his eyeballs. He's by far the most polite and clean-cut of us all. He can get in good with ANY girl's parents and isn't even remotely faking it. He's crazy-honest and definitely a snuggle bun. We need his love.

Nicho schnico aka Nicky baby lovey dudey sweetie cutie pie is my loveliest muffer puff. He is my schnakowaka. I'm so crazy psycho about him. He's brilliant and beautiful. He's a deep thinker, kinda pissy sometimes, hates conflict, loves our family, is great with da ladies, and deep down he thinks I'm pretty fabulous.

Jasey facey is my cookerkins. He is the littlest and thus the most spoiled. Faith roots for him most - I think she's his default third-parent. Slug is a great athlete. He is the most popular kid in town... he totally runs his school and dominates his friends.

All of them are beautiful and wonderful. We all need each other like crazy.

There is nothing more painful than traveling in a van with everyone else (the inappropriate jokes, the yucky boy noises and smells, the punching, the whining...) and there is nothing more wonderful than having a great post-supper convo when everyone cares about the topic.

We make each other work. We work together.

Good day

Today is a good day... already. I slept in so late, woke to an empty house, prepared and consumed copulant amounts of coffee, and sat down at the piano. Sometimes I forget that what God really wants of me is worship. I get fixated on self-improvement or life-direction and just lose sight. What a pleasure it is to be drawn back. So many of my inconsistencies and fears in life and love come from losing sight. And it's a blessing to be drawn back rather than knocked back into a rightness, a simplicity, a peace.

Song of Solomon 8:10b says, "...then I was in his eyes as one who finds peace."

Peace to me is freedom: freedom from preoccupation with the specificities and worrisome tasks of life, freedom from a compulsion to be a certain way, or think a certain way, or feel a certain way. I feel most at peace when I feel free to do or not do what I please. Perhaps the dysfunctional spin on this is my committment-phobia (I don't want to be tied down to a certain person or plan). I think there is also a healthy spin, though, in that my freedom is always to be anchored to God. I don't ever crave a freedom from God, because life has taught me that security necessitates Him... and true freedom is never freedom from the boundaries he sets up, because only therein am I saved.

I love the circle of emotions... the continuity of life... the bitter-sweet flavor of coffee... Mitchell's chunky cheeks... my new tattoo... baby Nicky saying "hold you, hold you," ... a pink sunset... my dramatic family... a good nap... a peaceful heart.

My best friend

The cutest infant ever born (after Jason, and only because I don't have one of my own).
No holds barred Mitchell is my bestest friend.
He really makes me want my own Asian baby.
I'll name him Gus.
But Mitchell... he's a fabulous baby... not to be kid-obsessed or anything... but he really is fabulous... I think he's going through a growth spurt 'cause he's eating like crazy and sleeping like a prince. He's my little rock star today, swinging happily away right now. I love him so much.

Praising God

I think I tend to be rather irreligious in most of my spiritual musings. Despite that - and whether it be good or bad - my heart yearns for God, for the living God. Not for a dead God of rules and rituals but a living God of power and majesty. There is something so great, so grand, so worthy about God that compels my worship, despite every philosophical question, despite every faithless doubt. I cannot doubt so much as to ignore the reality of God. I would not want to! Surely my very life - in unmistakable contingency - depends on his reality and his relationship to me. Without his choosing me, I would be unutterably undone. Without his light, I would be lost in darkness.
I do praise God. I do love him. I forget sometimes, amidst my many questions, that he does not ask to be understood but does demand worship. And his demand is not that of an egotistical tyrant (though I may find that philosophically plausible); he is good beyond what I can know by my frail moral delineations; he is sovereign beyond my conceptual capacities...
The very fact that he is, and that above me, requires me to surrender my superior intellect (haha) and bow before a God who I may not understand, but certainly respect; may not always like, but certainly love.

I long for so much out of life. Mine is a longing, hungry soul. And he alone is my satisfaction.

"...he satisfies the longing soul and the hungry soul he fills with good things" (Ps. 107:9).

"O God, quick to life every power within me, that I may lay hold on eternal things. Open my eyes that I may see; give me acute spiritual perception; enable me to taste Thee and know that Thou art good. Make heaven more real to me than any earthly thing has ever been. Amen."
(A.W. Tozer)

Tradition

There's something to be said for the 'way things have always been done.'
I'm not naive enough to think myself amazingly unique or cunningly original; I realize that even my deepest philosophical questions find their answers in the thorough thinking of great people who have lived long before my time. I realize that I am not alone nor am I isolated in my constant questioning (thank God for Leah, CW, Nick and Mom: I would feel like a three-headed reptile without you guys). (Um. Bad simile. You get what I mean.)
I had it posed to me (what else is new?) that I should get M'd. Okay okay joke's on me I realize that feminism isn't so much a front as rather unfeasible for someone with my extreme plague of irresponsibility and flightiness. I know I can be a space cadet, I know I can't balance a checkbook, I know I like to cook and I know I dig kids... so I guess this is all adding up to that one (somewhat terrifying) end of the big M.
I guess what really strikes me and what I really contemplate (beyond my lack of desire to be M'd) is that maybe I'm trying too hard to reinvent the wheel with this life thing.
I mean, I graduated so ridiculously early and traipse around the world seeking some writing in the sky as to life direction. Perhaps that isn't the way.
Tradition tells me that there is something to M. There is something to procreation. There is something that humans (I include myself) must innately desire and instinctually do.
I don't want to be trapped by a self-important craving to be different or rebellious. I really am just a person. Not a totally normal one, granted, but I'm not exempt from normal desires. And perhaps those normal desires ought to lead me in a more normal life than I've been looking for.
So maybe I need to do something I should for once.
Or at least consider it.
In a rather distant, way-in-the-future kind of way.
I'm definitely right back where I started.
Right now.
Oh well.
I can't wear white well anyway.

My Fatz

My drop-dead beautiful sister... senior prom, made court, with boyfriend Zach, best friend Megan, and our baby Nicholas.
Fatz. I love you! I hope you enjoyed my goodies. Sorry elements of prom sucked. I really admire your forgiving attitude toward people who will remain nameless.
I don't know what I'd do without you. I'd certainly laugh way too little. Let's have babies in our tummies and stay close even when we're old and need Botox.
I forgive you for being the pretty one. Mom likes me better anyways.
Hehe.

fear

Henry David Thoreau said that "nothing is to be feared except fear itself."

What am I so afraid of?

I can feel it... a liquid deep within that cannot be contained,
Spilling out; inky blackness poisoning
My clean slate, my fresh start.
No more delusions of grandeur
Or hopes for complete freedom
There can be no rebirth or recovery
Because enslavement goes beyond
Lurking shadows and illusive figures;
To be in bondage is to truly be crippled,
Shut out from the light others enjoy,
Shackled to the visceral reality
That before I can move a single step
Or take a single breath,
I must consult my unwanted companion
My soul's next of kin
Because he will have his say
And he seems to always win.
How can I not be a victim?
Who will help me out?
I'm resigned to stay in here...
Until I get wrinkled and restless...
As long as there's an
Until
Maybe it means
This won't last
Forever

Why am I so afraid?

My love

Today I feel sad.
At the beginning of the day, I had a wonderful idea and a fabulous adventure in store to visit Leah tomorrow. As the day went on, though, this plan unraveled, leaving me tragically disappointed. Worse, I feel I disappointed Leah. It's an awful feeling, this.
I do this too much to people, maybe specifically her: I say something, with great conviction and gusto, but am unable to follow through. I verbally promise things that I truly intend to accomplish but find myself unable to complete. And the fault is mine.
Perhaps the onus is on me because of my unbridled enthusiasm... I don't think things through. I don't even pretend to not think them through: I just genuinely don't.
This is the same problem I have with men. I always assume, 'of course we're just friends; of course he thinks so, too!' and continue to love and display affection heedlessly... until the truth comes crashing down, we have the infamous 'talk' and I discover that I was, in actuality, leading him on.
My heart is in the right place, that is my intentions are never to hurt... but that is not good enough.
As an adult I need to realize that I can't act however I please to whomever I please, but that the real adult on the other end of the relationship has very important and very worthy feelings.
Other people's feelings are worthy of respect. And I've got to stop being a tease in more ways than one.

Leah. My heart is so disappointed in myself. You have no idea how much I love you, sister. You are my very own favorite woman (even though you are dangerously unbalanced). I miss you. I mean it. Please believe me. Please forgive me.

Say

I like my life. I genuinely do. I don't say that glibly or thoughtlessly. I have a very definite routine right now, here in FL, but it is so good. I love all of my kids. I love being around the family, with all of their drama and humor. (Can I just say? In my humble opinion they are the wittiest, funnest people alive) (And funnest is actually a word - I checked).
Today was a good day.
I think it's important to speak things affirmatively: like saying "this was a GOOD day"... I call this day good. Beyond the basics of categorizing things into "good" versus "bad", I think it trains me to take my words seriously. Romans 4 describes God as He who "speaks those things that are not as though they were." James says that "Life and death lie in the power of the tongue." The Spirit inspired the words, "Let your yes be yes and your no be no, anything beyond this is of evil".
I want to take seriously the power of the tongue... the power of my words.
It's most obviously seen in kids: they literally live for approval and are crushed by hurtful tones or words.
I am not careful about what I say too much of the time.
I am afraid to be silent... afraid to miss speaking truth or correction... ought I not rather fear that I will be held accountable for every idle word I speak? Ought I not rather hesitate a moment, recognizing the genuine power of what I am about to say?
Well, yes I ought.
But I'm not very good at doing what I ought to do.
So I'm not very good.
But this day was.

Saturday with the Fam

The only ones who know how to handle me...
Jason my little football star...
Watching the game with the family...
Cheering like maniacs...
Beach trip...
Birthday celebrations...
Easter Sunday traveling to Pt Charlotte...


“Well I saw you with your hands above your head/Spinning around trying not to look dumb/But you did and you fell hard on the ground/And you stumbled around for a good ten minutes/And I said I’d never seen anyone look so dumb before/And you laughed and said I still know how to turn you on though/And you are the only one/Who drags me kickin and screamin through fast dreams/And you are the only one who knows exactly what I mean…/See you’re not what I expected but you’re the only one who knows how to handle me.”
“You’re the Only One” by Marie Mena

kids

So much of my life revolves around kids... working with kids, loving them, kissing their boo-boos, quelling their fears, listening to them scream.. and whine.. and putting them in time out... okay you get the point... April is the month of child-abuse awareness in the US. Congress lights a candle every first Wednesday of the month with three wicks to represent the three children that die every minute from child abuse. Every minute. Count to 60. Guess what, friends? The travesty of our superpower, popstar, dominating culture is that there are no longer three wicks on that candle: there are four. Because the numbers are climbing.
It shocks me that the American public is too self-absorbed, too distracted to have some decency, grow some cojonas, and stand up for a worthy cause. We are very sick. We are very deceived. And I am very disappointed.

So, let's take action, educate ourselves, and get aware! (that's the moral of the story... I promise I'll get off my soapbox now)

Kids.

Last night we had to tell Anthony, my brother, about the move. When he first came over we pumped up the jam and danced around like idiots, like we always do. Breathless and laughing, we fell down onto the couches and had an honest heart-to-heart.

The doorbell rang and a parent came to the door to pick up one of their kids. I straightened up and said, 'hey' to let him know an adult was present. Anthony looked at me and said, "I don't think that worked... no one thinks of you as an adult! You're a kid! That's why everyone loves to hang out with you."

I don't know whether to slap you or kiss you.

But I love you, Anthony! Little baby.

Russ's wedding!

Today was a day of celebrating Russ's wedding. It was a fun day with family and friends!

Weddings are something very common in my life experience... Dad has done so many weddings and taken Faith and I to many of them. Bride was gorgeous, bridesmaid dresses were a nice hue of red. I am refraining from inserting any snide comments about divorce rates or allowing any of my disillusionment to shine through. I hope for them the best happiness and success. Mazeltov.
(pics include the boys, Nathey; Gma, Aunt Martha, Faith and I; me and Gpa!)

Wonder

I wonder about a lot of things. I wonder at the intricacies of human relationships and communication; I wonder at the magnificence of creation in places like the Alps; I wonder at the small significance of expressions of love; I wonder at a masterfully written novel or piece of literature; I wonder at people's capacities to hate and destroy each other; I wonder at naivete, bias, prejudice; I wonder at simple-mindedness and wilfull ignorance... in some senses when I say "wonder" I probably mean "marvel." Because I wonder and marvel at these things, does that make them wonderful and marvelous?

I think our categories merit reconsideration.

Today is a drudging but productive day. I miss Leah. I miss Africa. I miss heavier things, too, like being young enough and untraveled enough to be wildly ambitious... I miss thinking life was simple and answers were available. Sometimes my soul feels very old.

And then I hold Nicholas or Mitchell... and they are so small, just babies; and I can make them smile and laugh... I can make them feel safe and special... and in my eyes they are the most wonderful thing of all. And I may drudge on but hope satisfies me once again.

Song of the moment:
“Come all ye lost/Dive into moss and hope that/my sanity covers the cost/To remove the stain of my love/In paper mache/Come all ye reborn/Blow off my horn/I’m driving really hard/This is love, this is poor/God will forgive me but I whip myself: scorn scorn!/I want to hear what you have to say about me/Hear if you’re gonna live without me/Hear what you want/I remember December” “I Remember” by Damien Rice

My lovelies

I don't mean to sound so morbid. Apparently my last post was a little inflammatory. I can't take it back but I can assure all who are worried that I am maintaining a healthy mindset.
On a happier note: I wanted to post pictures! There are so many lovely people in my life... especially in my family... so beautiful and so brave! I want it to go on record that it is they who keep me sane and satisfied. I can't imagine life without their wacky ways. I love you guys!

Un jet lagging

My thought is that eventually one day I absolutely have to recover from jet lag. Well, I finally feel myself emerging somewhat from the fog. I'm beginning to feel more normal. However, I think I'm also paying for my time of honesty and questioning at L'Abri. I don't feel the typical cynicism or jaded perspective on things... I feel ripped open. I think asking myself questions (honestly) like, "is God real?" "is God good?" "why is God so mean?" and other more violent questions hasn't so much shaken me as alienated me. Being asked by my grandparents if the virgin birth is necessary for salvation... I couldn't give a straight answer. I can't do that anymore. There're too many things to think and too many components of genuine Christian thinking to spout a pat answer to someone. I don't have many answers. But I have to admit that I kind of feel alone in my questioning... and alienated in many of my conclusions.