tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78162862336559070062024-03-14T01:26:36.005-04:00Two Square Meals...because somewhere along the line I gave up the attempt at being perfect...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger338125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-18069871630435726302010-10-24T23:46:00.002-04:002010-10-24T23:50:34.868-04:00Peace of Christ to YouWe said very sad farewells using these very words to many of our dear friends at church today, and they seemed a fitting way to sign off of this blog. Peace to you.<br /><br />Well, that and a couple of Calvinisms...<br /><br />The other day he got a huge splinter in his foot, and as we were pulling it out, he lamented, "I can see the death that will befall me!" <br /><br />Then, as we were pouring some hydrogen peroxide on the wound, "No! No! Don't put carbon monoxide on it! That is dangerous"<br /><br />Today, on the way home from church, he was discussing the fact that Auntie E had actually bought our Wii for Daddy a couple of years ago. "She didn't know the lion's den she was walking into with that one, did she? She thought she got that for our daddy, but all we do is play it all the time. We use it more than Daddy. It's just Wii, Wii, Wii."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-38246953625872997782010-10-19T22:10:00.004-04:002010-10-19T22:20:24.725-04:00Time to Close Up ShopI started this blog over three years ago as an outlet from life with little people. I had no idea what a gift it would be to me or how many interesting and thoughtful people I would meet through this world. So many of you have been gifts to me through your insightful writing on your own blogs and your kind comments on mine. Thank you for the good conversation over the years.<br /><br />I am going to have to stop posting here while we are in China, though I may resurrect this little spot one day. In the meantime, we will have a family blog in China. If you are interested, e-mail me for the link.<br /><br />I feel like there should be a bigger ceremony, a long post about TwoSquareMeals, or some other thoughtful something to end this, but we are getting on a plane in less than nine days. I barely have the energy to write this post. It is going to be a long week!<br /><br />In lieu of something to say, I am going to show my real face, and that of my kids. Here's the face behind the curtain. Check out the bloody knee from a recent hike to my favorite waterfall in TN. We've enjoyed our last autumn in the States with lots of mountain time!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TL5Rce5oWPI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MIAkGUefzw8/s1600/IMGP6747.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TL5Rce5oWPI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MIAkGUefzw8/s200/IMGP6747.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529946942230518002" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-67743053977816002602010-09-23T22:01:00.003-04:002010-09-23T22:35:56.009-04:00Ramblin' Woman<span style="font-style: italic;">It looks pretty certain that we are leaving for China in about FIVE WEEKS!! Don't even ask me how much we have to get done. I am really praying it all gets finished in time for us to enjoy our last few weeks here.</span><br /><br />Today I said the first in what promises to be a long string of good-byes. I've known Max for fifteen years, longer than I've known my husband or any of my friends here in North Carolina. We have so many memories together, driving curvy mountain roads, windows down, music blaring, stopping to pick daisies on the roadside in the summer and inhaling the cool air of autumn. We drove all around East Tennessee during high school, staying out too late and goofing off in the innocent way you can only do in a small mountain town. He went with me when I decided to take a roadtrip one summer in college "just because." We wound our way through Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New York visiting friends along the way and getting lost in New Jersey. He went along when my friend Matt and I made our epic trip to Mardi Gras one February. He was there for late night talks with boyfriends and midnight runs to the Waffle House in college. He ran away with me every time I needed to get away during my restless years, driving off to Jones Gap to hike or just driving, with no destination in mind, until my mind cleared and I found peace enough to go home.<br /><br />Max, Maxwell, short for Maxwell's Silver Hammer is my silver, 1995 Acura Integra. (Yes, I named all of our family's cars after Beatles' songs, but I just can't come up with a name for our black minivan.) I suppose I should say he "was" my Integra. I didn't think I would be so sad to sell him. We need the money to get us by until we leave for the field, and we don't need the extra car. It didn't make sense to keep him sitting idle somewhere for four years. <br /><br />But as I drove to meet the new owner this evening, I cried. This was my first car, bought for me by my Daddy. It's a huge memory of him, not to mention all the memories I have associated with that car after fifteen years of driving it. I was such a restless, lost soul for so many years, and that car was the one thing that stayed constant and went with me wherever I ran to...that car and the Holy Spirit, I suppose.<br /><br />Selling Maxwell today reminded me of the person I was, the restless, rambling, music and fresh air loving girl that used to drive around with the windows down and the Allman Brothers playing. I never was happy in one place for very long, and I used to be able to pack up everything I needed in that car and just take off at a moment's notice. Somewhere in the midst of a marriage and three kids and five years in one place, I lost that ability to pick up and go. In some ways that was good, growing up and no longer running away, but I am starting to remember that some of that restlessness is good, a reminder that things are not as they should be and that I am not as I want to be, that there is work to be done for peace and justice and love and truth.<br /><br />For too long now I have been living a stable, stationary life. It wasn't all bad, but I am waking up and realizing that God is calling me to more, that He made me restless and rambling for a reason. It's funny that the first step toward rediscovering that is selling Maxwell. Good old Maxwell, who saw me through the tumultuous years and doesn't get to see the newly restless (in a good way) me. I will miss you, my faithful traveling companion.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-34019605997697711032010-09-10T21:51:00.003-04:002010-09-10T22:35:26.745-04:007 Quick Takes-Almost Too Late<div style="text-align: center;">-1-<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The busyness continues, and I'm just not finding time to organize my thoughts and write them. If all goes as planned, we will be in Asia the beginning of November. Never mind that we have a house two sell, eight years of marriage and three kids worth of stuff to go through, visas to obtain, and any number of other things to accomplish by then. Oh, and we need to find good time to spend with family and process this whole moving thing.<br /><br /></div>-2-<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />That leads to take number two, in which I tell you that I am not sleeping well...at all. For some of you this may be normal, but not for me. Even when I have a newborn waking me up multiple times at night, I sleep exceptionally well. In fact, sometimes my husband has to wake me up to tell me a baby is crying. All three of my kids sleep through the night now, and I have always been one to fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow and not wake up until the alarm (or a child) wakes me. This lack of sleep due to stress is new for me, and I am not handling it well at all. Any suggestions other than just drinking lots of caffeinated drinks? Help, anyone?<br /><br /></div>-3-<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />On a brighter note, we spent Labor Day weekend in the mountains and took Monday totally off from moving/support raising/totally uprooting our lives work. It was lovely and cool and clear on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and we stopped at <a href="http://www.altapassorchard.com/">my favorite apple orchard</a> (definitely the most scenic in the world) for some apples. We've already made applesauce and will be doing apple butter and pie tomorrow. Yum!<br /><br /></div>-4-<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I have been thinking a lot of deep thoughts lately, but I just haven't had time to process them in writing. I have been thinking about how we spend so much time living our lives for an audience and documenting them that we don't actually live them. With blogs and digital photography and Facebook and Twitter, even those of us who try to avoid it often end up spending more time thinking about how to present our lives to others than actually living them. Because I have spent so much of the summer having to live in the here and now and not even having a moment to consider blogging or taking pictures or updating Facebook, I am realizing how much better life is without all of that. I think the generation becoming adults right now is growing up more narcissistic than any before because none of us have thought through how to use this new technology well. I heard about <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hamlets-BlackBerry-Practical-Philosophy-Building/dp/0061687162">this book</a> on NPR the other day, and would love other good resources that discuss how to live well without becoming a luddite and rejecting all technology.<br /><br /></div>-5-<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I've also been thinking about Muslims in America. I want to hate that crazy preacher in Florida who wants to burn copies of the Qu'ran. I want to hate him, but that would make me just as bad as he is. So instead I want to be like <a href="http://lifeaslyricpoetry.blogspot.com/">Catherine</a>, who is <a href="http://lifeaslyricpoetry.blogspot.com/2010/09/muslim-americans-i-am-honored-to-be.html">finding ways to reach out to her Muslim neighbors</a>. But can I still be mad at 24-hour news media? If it weren't for their need to have something to report on, the Qu'ran burners would not have national coverage, and the hatred that they are showing would not be the fuel for more hatred, toward Muslims or toward Christians. I'm pretty sure the Jesus I follow said something about loving my neighbor. In fact, He even said something about <a href="http://www.gnpcb.org/esv/search/?q=Matthew+5%3A43-48">loving my enemy</a>...I guess that includes the guy in Florida as much as it does the 9/11 hijackers and even the news media.<br /><br /></div>-6-<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">On the parenting front, I have loved <a href="http://ourmothersdaughters.blogspot.com/2010/09/try-this-little-secret-of-mine-instead.html">this article</a> from Leila of <a href="http://ourmothersdaughters.blogspot.com/">Like Mother, Like Daughter</a> (whose blog you really must subscribe to). Her parenting articles (and others as well) are so sensible and down to earth. <a href="http://ourmothersdaughters.blogspot.com/2010/09/six-to-eleven-year-olds-need-less.html">This one</a> was even better. I especially liked the alternate version of Ma Ingalls telling Laura to go in the house when there was a bear:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Today's child, in the false comfortable world of prosperity where parents think they have the luxury of listening to "experts" (who have no obedient children themselves), would cause this scenario:</span><br /> <br /> <blockquote style="font-style: italic;">"Laura, get inside!"</blockquote><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">"Why?"</blockquote><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">"Sweetie, get inside, please. Mommy needs you to get inside. Mommy doesn't want to scare you, but there's a big bear and she needs you to make a good choice now and do what she says."<br /><br />"Will you buy me a treat?"<br /><br />"Yes, sweetie, please, go inside."<br /><br />"Where's Daddy?"<br /><br />"Mommy knows you have questions, and that's very smart of you. I'm so proud of you. Please go inside now."<br /><br />"He's never here! Why isn't he here? You TOLD me he'd be here!"</blockquote><blockquote style="font-style: italic;">"Sweetie, when you argue with me, you are making a bad choice. What did we say about bad choices? Now, you'll have a time-out if you don't do what I say..."</blockquote><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Meanwhile, the bear eats them.</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Why? Because Mommy is so patient that she allowed every interaction with her child to be an exchange between equals rather than a strong wall that a child can't breach. For her own sake.</span><br /><br />My husband and I took her advice on having obedience practice, and it has worked wonders. We randomly ask the boys to run to the middle of the room and stand on one foot or hide behind the curtains. They do it the first time we ask because it is so funny, but the great thing is that they really caught on and started obeying the first time we asked them to pick up their toys or do something helpful for us. It was...well...wonderful.<br /><br /></div>-7-<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">On a purely frivolous note, my team plays Oregon tomorrow. We are totally outmatched. But we are playing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neyland_Stadium">at home</a>, which is an intimidating place for even number 7. It could be an upset. I can always hope...<br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-86681827646634428542010-08-30T23:44:00.003-04:002010-08-30T23:51:59.066-04:00Just Five Days...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/THx7OlyCWkI/AAAAAAAAANY/0mTwZPuHkWY/s1600/IMGP4794.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/THx7OlyCWkI/AAAAAAAAANY/0mTwZPuHkWY/s200/IMGP4794.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511415534585010754" border="0" /></a><br />...not that I have an obsession or anything...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-39271268423852944472010-08-19T22:20:00.006-04:002010-08-20T09:28:55.296-04:007 Quick Takes-T-shirts, Books, and Movies<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;">For more Quick Takes, <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/2010/08/7-quick-takes-friday-vol-93.html">visit Jen</a>. And, no, I don't have one of those fancy Amazon accounts that lets me earn money when you click one of these links and buy the book. I just share my opinions on books for free because they aren't worth much more than that.</span><br /></div><br />-1-<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TG3oLSkE0BI/AAAAAAAAANA/ifPFkkQIJBs/s1600/T-Shirt.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TG3oLSkE0BI/AAAAAAAAANA/ifPFkkQIJBs/s200/T-Shirt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507313200003338258" border="0" /></a><br />First <a href="http://a-straight-path.blogspot.com/">this link</a>, because it is more important than anything I have to say. My amazingly compassionate, loving, beautiful friends are in the process of adopting a daughter (or a pair of siblings) from Ethiopia. They already have three biological children, and they are opening their home to more. They are selling these super cool shirts to raise funds. Visit <a href="http://a-straight-path.blogspot.com/">Cortney's blog</a> to buy one. If you aren't convinced, read her story of being called to adopt. Start at the beginning or just read <a href="http://a-straight-path.blogspot.com/2010/04/let-little-children-come.html">this post</a>.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-2-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">I have actually been making myself take time to read lately despite the insanity that surrounds me. I just finished <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alchemist-Paulo-Coelho/dp/0061122416/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1282271506&sr=8-1">The Alchemist</a>, and though I don't think it was a consistently profound book, I did love it. It had many, many beautiful nuggets of truth in it, and it was a wonderful tale (fable? semi-allegory?). I think I loved it for the places it touched on Christian truth in the way I love a good movie that has glimpses of the truth in it. It's a quick read, one that had been on my list forever, and definitely worth it.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-3-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">I am also finally trying to get serious about this idea of homeschooling and buckling down to read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0393059278/ref=s9_simh_gw_p14_i1?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=1X6MEJV5MF8KBDK0YH6T&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=470938631&pf_rd_i=507846">The Well-Trained Mind</a>. I love the idea of classical education, but I am not sure I would love the practical working out of it. Anyone have any experience or advice on this? It seems so heavily academic at such an early age, and that scares me off a bit. Since my boys will already be in Chinese Kindergarten in the mornings, I don't want to overdo it. I'd love to hear from other moms of young ones who have started classical education at home.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-4-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">For something less deep but just as wonderful, I just finished Adriana Trigiani's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Very-Valentine-Novel-Adriana-Trigiani/dp/0061257060/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1282271920&sr=8-1">Very Valentine</a>. I love her Big Stone Gap series and all of her books, and this new book did not disappoint. I'm looking forward to reading the next in the series.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-5-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">If you are interested in China or good travel/culture books in general, you can't beat <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Peter-Hessler/e/B001ILMA1C/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1282272086&sr=8-2-ent">Peter Hessler</a>. I highly recommend every one of his books, including Country Driving, of which I have only read the first ten pages. He is an incredibly talented story teller/writer/weaver of words, and you will not regret picking up one of his books.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-6-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">On to visual media...We have been loving <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/foyleswar/">Foyle's War</a> in the Two Square household. We get the episodes through Netflix and have gotten my husband's whole family addicted to this fantastic British murder drama set in World War II. The history is fascinating and the characters are lovably British. (Why DO we Americans have such an obsession with all things British?)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-7-<br /><div style="text-align: left;">On the personal front, for those who care, we are...well...still really busy and traveling and trying to sell our house (or rent it...what to do, what to do) and making phone calls and sending letters and praying really hard that we can get to Asia by November at the latest. If you are the praying sort, please pray with us!<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><br /></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-38281697968347152052010-08-08T22:41:00.002-04:002010-08-08T23:32:51.345-04:00And Also With You<span style="font-style: italic;">"Calvin, you can't say those words to Auntie S. Words have meaning, and when you say that you don't love her you are saying what those words mean, even if you don't really think you are. You need to apologize and tell Auntie S that you love her."</span><br /><br />It seems we have this conversation a lot with our boys. We tell them that we don't say words like that in our family, that we love one another because we are family and because God placed us together. We stress that these are the relationships that we must guard most closely because our parents and brothers and aunts and uncles and grandparents will be with us the rest of our lives. Even when we are halfway around the world, these relationships will come with us. They are gifts to be cherished.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">~~~<br /></div> <br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span> Some say that the very repetition of the liturgy, Sunday after Sunday, renders it meaningless, but I don't agree. The words I say matter, not because of how I feel about them, but because the truth in them has power to change me. Every Sunday, as I recite the Nicene Creed and pray the prayer of confession and offer the "Peace of Christ" to those around me, those words mean something. <br /><br />Whether I have conjured enough faith in my heart or paid enough attention to each word that Sunday matters little. I have chosen to say those words and those words have meaning. By saying them, I choose to be transformed by them and to join the community of the church, both in that building on Sunday and throughout all of history.<br /><br />Some Sundays I am distracted by children or exhausted by life and go through almost an entire liturgy without thinking about what I am saying. But it never fails that one word or phrase or prayer jolts me out of my distraction and reminds me of the cosmic reality, the meaning behind those words.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"The Lord be with you."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"And also with you."</span><br /><br />We say these words every Sunday during the Eucharistic liturgy, as the priest begins preparing the table. So often I have said it and only half thought about it, but this past week, as I looked at our pastor and dear friend who was serving the Eucharist, the meaning behind what I said moved me to tears. Suddenly I knew, beyond any doubt, that I truly wanted the Lord, in all of His fullness, to be with our rector and with that beautiful group of people gathered to commune around His table. Because of that moment, because of the meaning of those words, my soul was changed. I am certain that when I am halfway around the world and remembering that liturgy, even as my church family is saying it aloud together, my soul will be knit to theirs. I know that, because the Lord is with me and also with them, we are united in His love. <br /><br />Words have meaning, and when I say them I am transformed. When we say them together, our souls are united in worship. No matter how alone I am feeling in a foreign country, no matter how much my faith may whither, I can speak the words of the liturgy and know that there is a greater truth than how I am feeling. The Word, who cares about my feelings and my struggles, meets me in that liturgy, and the strength of the community sustains me when I am too weak to say the words alone.<br /><br />We love one another because we are family and because God placed us together. These are the relationships that we must guard most closely because our spiritual parents and brothers and aunts and uncles and grandparents will be with us the rest of our lives. Even when we are halfway around the world, these relationships will come with us. They are gifts to be cherished.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">~~~<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And so Calvin and Hobbes say the words of apology and love, sometimes sincerely and sometimes still protesting in their hearts while they repeat what we have said. But they say them because those words have the power to transform them, to remind them that they do love, to unite them to a truth greater than their own emotions.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I love you Auntie S."<br /><br /></span></div></div><span style="font-style: italic;">"The Lord be with you..."</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-15292372410607182662010-08-02T21:00:00.002-04:002010-08-02T21:00:00.833-04:00It Can't Be Helped<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TFY10TyRmRI/AAAAAAAAAM4/ZO2PnqksUIc/s1600/IMG_3579.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TFY10TyRmRI/AAAAAAAAAM4/ZO2PnqksUIc/s320/IMG_3579.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500643167660251410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As I cuddled with Calvin on the couch Sunday night, the night before his sixth birthday, I said, "Don't turn six, Calvin."<br /><br />"It can't be helped," was his reply.<br /><br />His answer was so very Calvin-like, with his uncanny ability to toss out grown-up or antiquated turns of phrase at the most unlikely of moments. But lately those grown-up ways of speaking seem to fit him more and more. He is really growing up into a boy-man, and though there are traces of those emotional meltdowns and tantrums of his preschool years, he often tries really hard to control them. I love watching him discover his gifts and passions, seeing him learn to take responsibility, and following him along this path to greater independence. He stays up way past his bedtime reading old Hardy Boys books, he takes care of Linus with great attention, and he can occupy himself with Legos for hours on end. He is one amazing kid, and I am privileged to be his mommy.<br /><br />I have not been a great mom to preschoolers, but if what I see of Calvin is indicative of the future, I think I am going to like the boy years. It can't be helped.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-66700892718179056412010-08-01T21:38:00.002-04:002010-08-01T21:42:47.495-04:00Boys vs. Birds<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TFYh6m2c6bI/AAAAAAAAAMw/6AmCqZGMG0A/s1600/IMG_3531.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TFYh6m2c6bI/AAAAAAAAAMw/6AmCqZGMG0A/s320/IMG_3531.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500621285624703410" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This lovely picture was taken by my youngest sister-in-law. So was the one in my header. </span><br /><br />We survived our back-to-back vacation weeks and even managed to have fun. Now on to some seriously intense prayer and support development and a big push to try to get to Asia soon. It doesn't look likely to happen in September, and we are just trusting that it will happen when God wants it to. Prayers are appreciated. I think I need to start really blogging again for the sake of my sanity. We'll see if it happens.<br /><br />I hope you are all having lovely ends of the summer!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-20249905999182423632010-07-17T00:42:00.003-04:002010-07-17T00:47:33.338-04:00Eat A Peach<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TEE1VIhyvSI/AAAAAAAAAMY/xU1OGEvL0Ok/s1600/IMGP6250.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TEE1VIhyvSI/AAAAAAAAAMY/xU1OGEvL0Ok/s320/IMGP6250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494731657551461666" border="0" /></a><br />Or so say the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eat_a_Peach">Allman Brothers</a>. Aren't they lovely? They are in my mother-in-law's orchard. I'm going to miss this place. We're off for back-to-back weeks for vacation with both sides of the family. I may write a lot. I may not write at all. I will definitely be eating peaches.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-28373169340560970242010-07-06T23:21:00.004-04:002010-07-06T23:29:04.619-04:00Breaking the Silence, Showing our FaceI know I have sorely neglected this spot lately, but I am afraid that is just the way it is. It is going to be awfully silent around here and then may have to be shut down entirely once we move. I am working on finding a way to keep a blog overseas that won't compromise our security there.<br /><br />There is so very much to do to get read for this move overseas. So. Very. Much. I am tired and overwhelmed and leaning more into God's grace and love and faithfulness every day. So many thoughts come and go before I have a chance to write and work them out here. But there are very good moments in the midst of the busy-ness. <br /><br />We have such very, very good friends and such a very, very amazing church. We have wonderful family. We are enjoying baby goats. Check out my photo in my header. This is the first time I have shown the faces of my sweet boys in this space. Please respect my desires for their security and just enjoy the sweet photo. I am actually showing you a peek of my boys because I adore the way Hobbes is looking at the goat and the way you can see Linus' amazingly long lashes when he is looking down. Life is good, and getting to Asia will be good. The harder we work, I am learning, the better it is.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-68863495292770892482010-06-23T00:10:00.003-04:002010-06-23T00:16:49.776-04:00To Have and To HoldWe are so, so, so busy and overwhelmed (mostly in a good way) right now, that I didn't realize until 9:30 tonight that today is our eight year wedding anniversary. I wouldn't have remembered at all if the guy on the classical radio station hadn't mentioned it's being his and his wife's 52nd anniversary. My husband would have forgotten it, too, if my mom hadn't called to apologize about forgetting it. Oh well, at least we both forgot it!<br /><br />Happy anniversary to my wonderful husband! Here's hoping we get to celebrate 52 years together like the couple on the radio!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-45509999042988128932010-06-16T16:33:00.004-04:002010-06-16T16:40:21.196-04:00House Rules<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TBk1sMwOmxI/AAAAAAAAAMA/_JtYvW3MJwE/s1600/IMGP6071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TBk1sMwOmxI/AAAAAAAAAMA/_JtYvW3MJwE/s320/IMGP6071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483473054754315026" border="0" /></a><br />Calvin wrote these out a couple of weeks ago, and I thought I'd share. Here's the translation for those who have trouble reading his writing:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><ul><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Do not be bad.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Be good</span>.<br /></li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Do not fight other people if they don't want to be fought.</span></li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Play Wii.</span></li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't stay in bed in the morning.</span></li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">Eat your meals.</span></li></ul><div style="text-align: left;">In other news, check out that cute pudgy hand picking the blueberries in my header. We were in TN last week and enjoyed some of the fruits of my late grandma's lovely blueberry bushes. <br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-37736304339962351802010-06-08T15:12:00.011-04:002010-06-08T15:27:41.721-04:00My Life Right Now: A Photo Essay<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WN0HUC8I/AAAAAAAAAK4/P1HaRTMo5ig/s1600/IMGP6028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WN0HUC8I/AAAAAAAAAK4/P1HaRTMo5ig/s320/IMGP6028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480482960628255682" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-letters and labels and stamps-</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6XH2SGWPI/AAAAAAAAALo/JqXaCw1GrMI/s1600/IMGP6041.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6XH2SGWPI/AAAAAAAAALo/JqXaCw1GrMI/s320/IMGP6041.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483957642778866" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-chasing this guy and trying to keep him fed and uninjured-</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6W4mEg2nI/AAAAAAAAALY/xqtY2O97Uso/s1600/IMGP6038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6W4mEg2nI/AAAAAAAAALY/xqtY2O97Uso/s320/IMGP6038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483695592790642" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-yard sale pile and boxes-</span><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6Wi5pv54I/AAAAAAAAALI/GCSNtpXyPyU/s1600/IMGP6032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6Wi5pv54I/AAAAAAAAALI/GCSNtpXyPyU/s320/IMGP6032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483322892117890" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-prayer group preparations-<br /><br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WXyCTp1I/AAAAAAAAALA/CGqNDaS3bRw/s1600/IMGP6029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WXyCTp1I/AAAAAAAAALA/CGqNDaS3bRw/s320/IMGP6029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483131869079378" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-enjoying a bit of the beauty of our yard-<br /><br /></span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WvLb3LNI/AAAAAAAAALQ/lGGWsuUzgLs/s1600/IMGP6036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6WvLb3LNI/AAAAAAAAALQ/lGGWsuUzgLs/s320/IMGP6036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483533824142546" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-trying to make our house beautiful-<br /><br /><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6X9hTchDI/AAAAAAAAAL4/pi6orFox_Hc/s1600/IMGP6045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6X9hTchDI/AAAAAAAAAL4/pi6orFox_Hc/s320/IMGP6045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480484879724217394" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-rewarding Calvin and Hobbes for helping with the cleaning-</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6W_alSPtI/AAAAAAAAALg/w8v37iYZqM4/s1600/IMGP6039.jpg"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/TA6W_alSPtI/AAAAAAAAALg/w8v37iYZqM4/s320/IMGP6039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480483812768104146" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-drinking lot of sweet tea to keep going-<br />(Thank you, Chick-fil-A, for making the nectar of the gods.)<br /><br />AND<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">-procrastinating here when there is way too much to do-</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-57074796602896585472010-06-06T14:12:00.003-04:002010-06-06T15:50:35.066-04:00Hello?<span style="font-style: italic;">She opens the door with caution and peeks her head outside...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Anyone still around out there? I assure you I have been reading your blogs. Our lives have just been so busy with this new plan that I have not had a spare moment to comment or to write for myself. I miss this little outlet for my thoughts, though, and wanted to at least stop in and say "hi."</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Here's a brief update followed by a funny Hobbes story. <br /><br />Oh, and if you just read me in your reader, you really should go on over to my blog and see the cute ducklings in the photo on my header. They were born at my in-laws' farm last week, and we have been enjoying them immensely.</span><br /><br />Things are moving forward quickly with our plans for Asia. We have been contacting a lot of churches and are getting ready to send out a letter and start calling folks to talk about our plans. We have no idea where the funding will come from in such a short time or how all of the details will fall into place, but God is showing me that I just need to worry about doing what I can do in one day, not looking ahead to too many details at once.<br /><br />Here's a wonderful story that feels like such a confirmation of God's provision in all of this. I was so stressed out about getting the house ready, purging and storing our things, and staging the house to have on the market. I had no idea when we would get it done with all of the more immediate needs of medical clearances and passports and building our support team. Thanks to a random e-mail I sent to a listserve, we already have a couple that is highly interested. We've shown the house twice to their daughters, and they are driving down from NY to check it out for themselves. Wouldn't it by funny if, after all of my stress about how to get it all done, these folks bought the house without my even having to do one more project or get it all cleaned out and staged? Maybe it won't work out that way, but right now, it certainly seems to have God's hand all over it.<br /><br />I still have so little faith that we can get from 15% to 100% of our support in a month, get our ducks in a row, get our visas, and get there by September. But there are a lot of people praying with a lot of faith for it to happen. And God seems to be showing me that I can trust Him to show up in big ways. This is ultimately His work to do, not ours, and we are just called to be faithful each day to the tasks He has given. That may or may not mean He wants to get us there by September. But I think my faith is going to be stretched a lot this summer! It's hard to live this out, but I know we will look back one day and have a great story to tell.<br /><br />Now, I'm off for a much needed Sabbath rest. The boys have been so funny lately, and I have lots of Calvinisms and Hobbes' quotes to share with you. I just haven't had time to write them down. For now, here is a funny from Hobbes.<br /><br />We were at my sister-in-law's high school graduation yesterday, and the graduates were wearing blue robes. It was hot and the ceremony was long, and I was in the back with the boys under a tree. Hobbes was sitting up in the tree, a little Zaccheus character if ever there was one, and he looked down at me with a huge grin and said, a little too loudly, "Mommy, when I'm up here, I can see lots of the blue people!"<br /><br />And then, pointing to the stage at all of the dignitaries in their black academic garb, "And there are all the black people!"<br /><br />Apparently, his aunt and her peers are some sort of alien race with blue skin. And we, to all of those sitting nearby who heard but had no context, are now racists.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-61544764735389032112010-05-20T19:31:00.002-04:002010-05-20T19:37:32.235-04:00Caught in a WhirlwindFor those of you who keep up with this blog and were praying for us, we decided to <a href="http://twosquaremeals.blogspot.com/2010/05/excuse.html">accept the call from our sending agency to move fill the need in Western China</a>. They want us there by September. That means we have to have financial and medical clearance by July. That means we have three months to get it all done and get there. <br /><br />Yes, I am a bit unglued, stressed, overwhelmed, busy....you get the picture.<br /><br />But I am excited, too. I know that if God wants us there He will make it happen. It is an undertaking of huge proportions, nonetheless. If we do our part to make this plan happen, we are going to be some crazy-busy people. So you may not hear much from me. It is also likely that this blog will be shut down when we move. But I am looking into ways to have another one that is a bit more secure. I'll let you know.<br /><br />In the meantime, we can definitely use your prayers. I'll try to update you on occasion and maybe even have some non-moving related posts to share.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-83217072093385491652010-05-17T16:05:00.003-04:002010-05-17T16:31:26.137-04:00Hatching of a HeartI am an Appalachian girl. There are good things about that, but there are downsides, too. We tend to be stoic people, keeping our emotions bottled up until too much moonshine combined with an insult to our kinfolk stirs us to fightin'. But my family is one of the stoic ones, not one of the fighting ones. We don't often show emotion, even to those we love the most. Sometimes we don't even know how to deal with it inside ourselves. <br /><br />I go through most of my life like this, emotionally reserved, even keel, not expressing or expecting emotional openness. I suppose that is why I am prone to depression and don't find it easy to make deep friendships. <br /><br />But there are times when even I cannot keep the sadness and the beauty and the joy of life from slipping in and breaking open my heart. It is a slowly widening crack, as my Maker gently and lovingly pries open the shell around my heart. As he helps me to open up, I am learning to invite these emotions into their proper places. Most days they still feel like strangers, but sometimes, like this week, I know that they are finding in my heart a place that could be home. <br /><br />As I accept the sadness of a missionary hero of mine (and dear family friend) dying of cancer then turn around to watch Linus belly laughing at his daddy and brothers, I wonder if my heart will break from the opening, from the stretching and growing and making room. As I watch Hobbes on a perfect May afternoon, picking strawberries at my in-laws' and eating them straight from the patch (See that lovely photo at the top of my blog?), I wonder if my heart can hold the beauty and heartbreak of it all. I think it is too much. <br /><br />But I am trying, trying to open my heart and hands to accept life and to live it fully, to allow myself to feel deeply and truly. Maybe just maybe, this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLvWaYXUwcg&feature=related">heart will hatch one day</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-54389548142959814162010-05-04T13:56:00.002-04:002010-05-04T14:17:00.145-04:00These Feet Were Made For Walkin'...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/S-BgOyoCUVI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/WoynVCFfIEc/s1600/IMGP5712.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/S-BgOyoCUVI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/WoynVCFfIEc/s320/IMGP5712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467475754851914066" border="0" /></a>Somehow, in this insanely busy past month, Baby Linus became Toddler Linus. I almost missed it. I mean, I knew he was starting to walk and getting braver every day, but I was so overwhelmed and exhausted that I almost forgot to celebrate when those cute, curled up toes decided it was time to conquer the world. I certainly didn't manage to get video of it. I do have video of some of his early steps, so I guess that's good enough.<br /><br />But walking is not the only way he is growing up. We are down to two nursing sessions a day, sometimes one, and while I thought he might hold on for a while longer, it seems like he may be ready to wean. I had a rare peaceful moment with him today. As we lay on my bed, him feeding and holding onto my shirt and me stroking his cheek, I knew that this might be the last time like this, even if not the last time he nurses. <br /><br />Linus has never been one to nurse to sleep or want to cuddle. He likes breastfeeding, but he usually does it quickly and hops up to play. Even as a newborn, he nursed right after waking and preferred to go to sleep on his own in his crib later. For the most part, I have been very thankful that my third wanted to go to sleep on his own. It made life much easier for me after having had two who needed lots of help going to sleep. But now that we are at the end, I wonder what I missed. Nursing him has always been a distracted business, with one or the other of us busy paying attention to Calvin and Hobbes. There has been very little one-on-one time in these breastfeeding months.<br /><br />So as he feel asleep this afternoon, one hand holding mine and the other clutching my shirt, I treasured it. I looked at those sweet toes, curled up under his feet after a morning of wandering the playground. I stared at his body becoming long and lean with the work of walking. And I cuddled my baby. He may be beginning the journey to boyhood, but when he is asleep and those feet are at rest, he is still my baby.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-14693985203613859752010-05-03T15:22:00.002-04:002010-05-03T15:26:12.756-04:00Mother's Day Giveaways All WeekMy friends, Catherine and Farrah, over at <a href="http://www.dupagemamas.com/">DuPage Mamas</a>, are hosting a lot of giveaways this week. If you live in DuPage County, Illinois, or know someone who does, <a href="http://www.dupagemamas.com/2010/05/02/mothers-day-giveaways/">visit their site to register</a>. Some of the giveaways are not local, so we can all enter those!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-66365207525478425122010-05-01T10:00:00.004-04:002010-05-01T10:19:36.488-04:00An ExcuseNot that I need to give one, but here is my excuse for not writing much lately. Really, it's a call to prayer, if you are the praying type.<br /><br />In the midst of three trips to Tennessee in three weeks to see my Grandma before she died and to attend her burial and the worship service celebrating her life, we got an e-mail and phone call from our sending organization for Asia. They are asking us to consider a huge shift in our plans that involves moving to another, more remote city where Daddy TwoSquare will work at a software startup whose founder is going on home assignment for a year. It is a strategic work with an important minority group focus, and if the company folds, the folks working there could lose their visas. Even if they don't, the work they are doing to build trust and to live with integrity there could be jeopardized.<br /><br />Seems like a no-brainer, but it comes with a lot of cons for our family, including a limit on our language acquisition for that first year. Our original plan involved doing two years of full-time language study with very little work or ministry, living in a much more accessible city with more foreigners, and having an overall easier adjustment. This new option is in a city that I love dearly, but it is a hard place to learn language because of the work schedule my husband would have and because of the strong local dialect.<br /><br />This only needs to be a temporary situation, and we can return to our original plan after the year is up. The reality, however, is that we are unlikely to want to uproot our family and move to a new city to start the cultural adjustment process all over. We can turn back to full time language study in this city after that year, but the language program is far inferior to the one we were originally planning to attend. <br /><br />As you can see, I have a lot on my mind. We are praying a talking and discerning with wise counselors. If we decide to go ahead with this, they want us to try to get our support raised and be there as early in the Fall as possible, hopefully September. It is overwhelming, to say the least. But it could be exciting. <br /><br />I may not be around these parts much, or I may turn here a lot to process and cope with the insanity. I would appreciate your prayers. And if you have a heart for Asia and want to learn more about what we are doing so that you can pray more specifically, I'd be glad to contact you. Just e-mail me at twosquaremeals[at]gmail[dot]com. I just can't post more specifically here for security reasons.<br /><br />I am overwhelmed and exhausted and emotionally frayed, but now I am off to get a lunch packed and watch Calvin's soccer game.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-58006434726833738632010-04-28T13:53:00.002-04:002010-04-28T13:55:19.947-04:00Grandma's WisdomToday, a short post, perhaps the wisest saying I've ever heard attributed to my Grandma:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Women are mean, and men are stupid."<br /><br /></span>Knowing that could solve a lot of the world's relationship problems.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-21824896916681647772010-04-27T18:31:00.001-04:002010-04-27T18:32:34.624-04:00These Aren't Your Grandma's Blueberries (reposted)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/SGktLZEXHQI/AAAAAAAAADA/Xdz7aXmSh7E/s1600-h/Blueberries.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5nOjSS4iq2g/SGktLZEXHQI/AAAAAAAAADA/Xdz7aXmSh7E/s320/Blueberries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217751317016419586" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I was hoping to do a series of posts about my Grandma this week. I may or may not get many done. But here is one from a couple of years ago. My Grandma's house has the most amazingly prolific blueberry bushes in the backyard. This includes one of my favorite of her many delicious recipes, her blueberry batter pie.</span><br /><br />But they are <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> grandma's blueberries. Aren't they lovely?<br /><br />We have had a busy few days around here. On Thursday, the boys and I drove the four-hours one way trip to Tennessee just to pick some of these fantastic berries. Of course, we did manage to stay two days to enjoy family and to breathe some of the mountain air, which is significantly less oppressive than the air around here, even if it isn't that much cooler.<br /><br />I'm not sure how long Grandma has had her blueberry bushes, but they are huge. She gets around 20 gallons each summer, and all of her friends and relatives who want to can take a turn picking. We got there just in time to glean some of the last fruits. In fact, my wonderful Grandma had saved two bushes just for us. Calvin had a blast picking...or eating...the berries with Grandma. Hobbes was more interested in pouring them from one bucket to another, dumping them on the ground, and generally undoing our work. He eventually decided it was more fun to play hide-and-seek in the bushes while we picked.<br /><br />So now I am home with a gallon of berries, some of which I will freeze for use in oatmeal and pancakes and muffins throughout the year. Many of them we will eat in handfuls of juicy, sweet goodness. The rest will go into Grandma's blueberry batter pie and a batch of <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/To-Die-For-Blueberry-Muffins/Detail.aspx">these</a>. I am still searching for the perfect blueberry muffin recipe, so if you have a good one, send it my way. For that matter, send me any good blueberry recipes you have. I'd love to know what other people do with them!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Grandma's Blueberry Batter Pie<br /><br /></span>Melt one stick butter in the bottom of a 3 quart baking dish.<br /><br />Mix 1 cup flour, 1 cup milk, 1 cup sugar, 2 tsp. baking powder, and a dash of salt. Set aside.<br /><br />Combine 1 quart blueberries, 1 cup sugar, and a little water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil on stovetop and remove from heat.<br /><br />Pour batter over melted butter in baking dish. Spoon blueberry mixture evenly over batter and pour remaining juice on top. Bake at 350 for 3o minutes or until batter rises to top and begins to brown.<br /><br />Best served warm with some vanilla ice cream.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-40460141379544357452010-04-24T22:53:00.004-04:002010-04-25T08:40:49.382-04:00Eulogy for My Grandma<span style="font-style: italic;">Today was the worship service celebrating my Grandma's life. All of the grandkids were asked to say something about what we learned from her. This is what I wrote and read.<o:version><br /></o:version> <o:officedocumentsettings><o:allowpng></o:allowpng></o:officedocumentsettings><!--[endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Times New Roman"; panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-parent:""; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--StartFragment--></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:documentproperties> <o:template>Normal</o:Template> <o:revision>0</o:Revision> <o:totaltime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:pages>1</o:Pages> <o:words>496</o:Words> <o:characters>2828</o:Characters> <o:lines>23</o:Lines> <o:paragraphs>5</o:Paragraphs> <o:characterswithspaces>3472</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:version>11.1282</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:donotshowrevisions/> <w:donotprintrevisions/> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Times New Roman"; panose-1:0 2 2 6 3 5 4 5 2 3; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:50331648 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-parent:""; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><br /><div id=":36" class="ii gt"> <p class="MsoNormal">When (my uncle) asked me to write something about what I learned from Grandma or what she meant to me, I wondered what to write.<span> </span>Should I tell about how she taught me to make her famous chocolate cake, measuring the cocoa so that it was heaped just the right amount in the tablespoon?<span> </span>Or about how I used to love spending the night with her as a kid because we got to have all the candy we wanted, stay up late, and eat chicken noodle soup for lunch?<span> </span>Should I tell about my memories of eating freshly picked blueberries off the bushes in her backyard until my stomach hurt?<span> </span>Or of sitting in her living room stringing beans with her and most of the family helping?<span> </span>Maybe I should tell how her involvement in missions, though she never moved away from these mountains, was one of the influences that led me to follow God’s call to China.<span> </span>Whether big or small, all of these are pieces of her story that have helped to write mine, and I am so very grateful for them.<span> </span>But they are not want I really want to tell.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><span> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I was pregnant with my third child, I wanted more than I even realized to have a girl, and when we found out we were having yet another boy, I was a bit disappointed.<span> </span>How does anyone raise three boys?<span> </span>Then I remembered (I don’t know how I had forgotten) that Grandma did it.<span> </span>Grandma, who had wanted so much to have just one girl and was thrilled when I was finally born into the family, raised three boys and raised them well.<span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">When I asked her how she did it, how she managed to raise three boys who turned out so well and even liked each other, she said, “Well, I guess I just did it.”<span> </span>In this age, when motherhood is such a complicated business, and everyone is telling you the perfect method for childrearing and insisting that you buy their book or take their class or follow their method, my Grandma’s wisdom is the only advice that has really stuck with me.<span> </span>She just did it.<span> </span>She got up every morning and made the meals and mended the clothes and disciplined when needed and didn’t worry too much about self-esteem or cognitive development or anything else.<span> </span>In fact, the only thing she ever told me that she was sure to teach her boys was that church was not optional.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I know that Grandma was able to do what she did because she loved Jesus, and she showed her love for Him and for the people around her by meeting practical needs.<span> </span>Even her most treasured gifts to us were made for the most practical of reasons, to keep us warm.<span> </span>Those beautiful quilts she made for all of her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren are pieces of art, but they are not meant to hang on walls.<span> </span>When I tuck my three boys under them at night and crawl under one myself, I remember Grandma’s love for us and her acts of service that allowed her to do more for the Kingdom of God than she might have expected. I am reminded just to finish the next task that God places before me, to care for those He has put around me, to keep our family close and Jesus at the center.<span> </span>Hopefully one day I’ll be able to look back and see three godly sons, loving daughters-in-law, and grandchildren and great-grandchildren who love Jesus and their families.<span> </span>Because in all of those years of just doing the next practical thing, those are the works of art Grandma created, more beautiful than any quilt.<span> </span></p> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-38481082170957985752010-04-21T14:40:00.003-04:002010-04-21T14:43:34.163-04:00A Poem<span style="font-style: italic;">by Calvin and Hobbes (with a little help from Auntie M)</span><br /><br />If I went to the moon, I would bring my car<br />So that I could put it in a star.<br />The star would burn up the car<br />And the ashes would be bizarre.<br />I would also bring my sword<br />To fight for my lord<br />Against Count Bleck the Mean<br />The most dangerous villain you've ever seen.<br />I would of course win the fight<br />Unless Count Bleck had stronger might.<br />And then I would have to leave the moon<br />And fly back to Earth very soon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7816286233655907006.post-88426614056335358902010-04-20T09:19:00.003-04:002010-04-20T09:23:33.842-04:00Sending Love to a FriendMy dear friend in real life, Farrah, is remembering the birth and death of her firstborn son this week. She wrote a <a href="http://babyloveslings.blogspot.com/2010/04/year-6.html">touching post</a> about her grief and how she has grown over the past six years that I thought was worth sharing. If you have a moment, go and <a href="http://babyloveslings.blogspot.com/2010/04/year-6.html">read it</a> and leave her an encouraging comment. She is a beautiful woman and friend, and I have been blessed by her openness through these past six (and more) very difficult years.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1