Losing My Religion

 

For the last 28 years, I have been involved with some aspect of teaching Sunday school or youth ministry. I spent three years as the youth director of my church. It was a wonderful experience, but I needed to focus on spending time with my family, not focusing on other people’s families. There were a lot of lessons that I learned during those three years, some good, some bad, some in between.

The most shocking part for me, despite all the years in this calling, was the pulling back of the curtain. It was like that scene in the Wizard of Oz, when you see the wizard in his realness. It isn’t always pretty. After I stepped away from my role, I needed to step away entirely from the church. At first, it was terrifying. My identity for most of my life was that of being Episcopalian. It was the denomination I was married in, it was how I was raising our son. It was like part of me was being ripped out of my soul.

 

There were some advantages too. I had lots more free time. I wasn’t responding to emails or problems. I didn’t have to plan lessons. I could sleep in on Sunday mornings. I was able to attend church with my family. I no longer needed a Sunday afternoon nap (although they still are quite enjoyable). I was able to get out of the spiritual desert I was in.

 

Right now, I don’t have a church home, and that’s ok. I am enjoying worshipping at different churches and listening to different preaching styles. My son is enrolled in CCD at my husband’s church, and is enjoying that. I love not feeling committed either. I like warming the pew, and it has lots of benefit for me right now.

 

Despite not having a church home, I have never felt closer to God than I have over these last 5 or so months. I am finding Him in all sorts of different ways. Walking in the woods, I see His masterpieces. Watching birds soar over head, I can hear Him whispering on their wings. I see His love in the people I love the most. I finally understand, after all these years, what its really like to have a personal relationship with God.

Miles of Smiles

Many years ago, I was on the receiving end of people's generosity. My grandmother had a stroke on the 4th of July, 1999. 6 weeks later, she finally passed away after much suffering. 

During that time, I spent every moment I could with her. First in rehab, then in the nursing home when it became evident she'd never recover enough to come home. I was blessed with an awesome church community who provided love, support & when needed, companionship. Our church had a soups & smiles ministry which provided meals when a loved one was ill or a new member joined the family. 

It was a relief to know I didn't have to worry about making something when I got back from being with my Grama. 

After that, I got involved, because I know how valuable this is.

Recently, a family in my church suffered an unbelievable tragedy when their baby was stillborn. Mom had some complications as well, and has endured more than most could bear. 

Luckily, our Bible study group rallied around them and provided a month of meals.

For my donation, I made an easy peasy casserole. 

You need

1 box of pasta roni creamy garlic

1 bag California vegetables

1 c shredded mozzarella cheese 

Cook the pasta according to tge directions on the box. Top with veggies & cheese. You can add chicken, shrimp or tuna to it as well. 

I took the little man with me when we went to deliver it. He was nervous, understandably. However, the hug he received from the hurting momma was payment in full.

She's a Beauty

As a woman almost in my mid 40's, my definition of beauty has changed over the years. I used to think that just supermodels could be beautiful. Or those that could be supermodels. I could never live up to those lofty standards.

Motherhood changed me. 

It was as if my eyes were opened for the first time. 

Beauty doesn't just rest with the so called pretty people.

There is beauty in a bride on her wedding day, kissing her groom.

There is beauty in a mother holding her baby for the first time.

There is beauty in generations, sharing genetics, family history and love.

There is beauty in milestones being met, toddlers wobbling, tying shoes, riding a bike, and the joy parents feel.

There is beauty in late nights, sunrises, sunsets and the minutes in between.

There is beauty in a really good meal or a really good cup of coffee.

It's not the beauty that most people think of.

Conventional beauty doesn't matter. I don't need so called experts to give me a narrow definition of what they think. I used to read the beauty (and other women's) magazines. I bought the products. I succumbed to the marketing. I still didn't fit the definition. 

I have curves where "they" said I shouldn't. 

I really don't need make up on a daily basis.

I like wearing clothes that jazz me, not what some fashion buyers are convincing others to wear.

I wish I had this confidence 30 years ago, because it would have saved me heartache and pain.

I'm teaching my son that beauty surrounds us. I'm teaching him that a woman's appearance isn't the sum of who she is. I'm teaching him that what other people think is beautiful should be seen through his own filter.

And the most beautiful thing in the world is love.

Camp

My son is a Boy Scout. I am a huge proponent of scouting and all the skills he is developing and learning.

He recently went on his first camping trip. He slept in a tent.

 Learned some new skills like chopping wood.

It was great to see him grow and develop

Super proud of my scout!

Hot Fun in the Summertime

School is out. The temperatures are going up. The kids are getting bored. Midsummer or the solstice is time to try some new things. From ancient times, we have marked the solstices with celebrations. The summer solstice is the longest day, and a perfect opportunity to spend time in the sun.

Go bird watching

Go berry picking

Leave out milk and honey for the fairies

Watch the sunrise on the solstice

Have a breakfast picnic on the solstice

Decorate house in red & orange

Make sun catchers

Make solar tea

 

 

Solar tea

 

Needed:

Mason jar

Sprigs of thyme

3-4 tea bags

Water

 

Put tea and thyme in mason jar. Cover with water, put lid on it

 

Put in direct sulight for at least 3 hours

 

Drink and enjoy

Oatmeal raisin cookies

After each of my son's piano recitals,

 there is a reception with punch and cookies. 

It's a reward for a job well done. 

For today's spring recital, I made something super special: oatmeal cookies.

They are both dairy and gluten free and vegan. 

Meaning: they are good for you and taste great.

1 c gluten free oats

1 c rice flour

1 c coconut milk

1/2 c currants or raisins 

1 banana mashed

1 tbsp flax seed mixed with water

1 tbsp agave nectar 

Mix everything together. Drop onto a cookie sheet. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes, let cool.

through the past, darkly

Every so often, I have one of those fitful nights when I really, honestly can’t sleep. I think about things-nothing major-and hope for the best to fall back asleep. Tax time brought back a lot of painful memories of how the past year transpired and played out. I didn’t think that it would impact me as much as it did. Instead of claiming two children, it was one. Instead of claiming adoption expenses, it was a failure.


The remaining pieces of my heart went into tiny mosaics.

I laid awake in bed the last few nights, having the past year play out in my mind. The emotional roller coaster that I was on, the turmoil and tumult my family went through. . It was prolonged grief, and since November I have started to slowly claw my way out of the pit. I am starting to see the morning light and letting the darkness fade. This past year has seen my faith and relationships tested beyond compare. The saying that you don’t know who has your back until you’re in need is very true. People who I thought I could count on turned out to not be true blue, other people completely surprised me and stepped up to the proverbial plate.

My faith kept getting tested over the course of the past year, and to perfectly honest, inwardly I turned my back on G-d. Outwardly I continued to worship and praise, and pray and study but on the inside I was as dry as the Sahara. My faith wasn’t even as small as a mustard seed, it was microscopic. I felt abandoned. I cried out to Him, why did you put me through all this? Haven’t I had enough? You continue to make me suffer. I have lived a good life yet You punish me.

I was angry at Him, despite my dependence on Him. I was mad that my whole family had to suffer, that I was blind to warning signs and had selected vision. I was angry that my dreams were shattered like glass breaking into shards. I was angry that my son was affected on so many levels. There was such angry and vitriol in my home for months on end. I had given the devil a foothold into my life, and he was ready to settle in for the long haul.

There is real evil in the world. I’ve seen it, experienced it and lived it. It’s not evil on the same level as genocide or a serial killer. It’s an every day evil that is so insidious you don’t even notice it until its too late. It starts with a few small failings here and there. You just don’t do something that you always do. Nothing big, nothing major. For example, you always mop the kitchen floor at night, one day you just decide you won’t do it. It spirals down into a habit of not doing it. Then you decide you’re just too tired to pray at night, so you skip it. The next day, when you realize you haven’t been reduced to a pile of ashes, you skip it again. And again. And so on. Until the habit you had has been broken and a new, bad for you one has formed. This level of evil would rumple and crumple me, unless I turned my back and excised it. I can’t even begin to list the bad for me habits this everyday evil created in my life-and as a consequence, my family’s lives. But with surgical precision, I have removed the cancerous growth. Now I am in follow up treatment, with daily prayer and conversation. I am returning to pursuits that I laid aside last spring. I am enjoying my kitchen with a ferocity that has been unmatched in years. I am even getting truly serious about getting healthy again. My sewing machine is no longer idle. The cardstock is being dusted off. I am becoming whole again. Laughter is again ringing out in my home.

The darkness before dawn yields the most magnificent sunrises.

I've Got the Joy

One thing that I have decided on this year is to manifest more joy in my family’s lives. This centered on my working to manifest joy in my own life, and then spreading it to the rest of them. It goes with the old adage, if momma ain’t happy, then no body’s happy.  I needed to work through some issues before I could focus on bringing about more joy in our lives.

 

One of the greatest gifts I can give to my family is the gift of being present. I need to be conscious and aware, not merely there. My son brought up the fact that I spend a lot of time on my ipad (guilty). I try to justify it by showing him I’m reading a book on there vs. an actual book, but he’s right. I am there with him, but I am not WITH him. It led me to thinking about other times where I was present, but not in presence.

 

I am making a conscious choice to actively engage in bringing about joy in our home. I set a very clear intention, and am now in the process of making it so. I read the book the Joy Diet (and yes, it was on my ipad) and Martha Beck has some great ideas on how to bring about more joy in our lives. There was also a lot that wasn’t quite practical for my life or my family.

 

The decision to be focused and aware is part of her ideal of connection. We need to feel that connection to the greater world. No man (or woman for that matter) is an island, and we are all interdependent on one another. For my family, that connection also involves playing together. When our son was younger, it was physically getting on the floor and building Legos or playing hot wheels with him. Those are some of my most treasured memories. Now that he’s older, we have other ways of playing. We race our bikes around the block. We play video games. Play is an essential part of growth and learning for children-and it needs to be for adults as well.

 

Playing for us usually winds up with laughter. According to the Joy Diet, we should aim for 30 LPD-laughs per day. It sounds like an easy task-until you actually start keeping track. I honestly thought I laughed more than I really did. It made me to be more focused and aware-and actively seeking out funny things. My family and I find different things funny, and its great to experience what we like. I adore Monty Python, and despite seeing all of the movies and Flying Circus episodes a gazillion times, I still fall over laughing.

 

One of the more difficult suggestions Beck offers is to spend 15 minutes a day doing nothing. I am a wife and mom who works full time and has a litany and laundry list of things to be doing. However, I am committing time to meditation every day, and I am counting this as my 15 minutes. I am working on getting the boys on board, but so far they have proven challenging. The other task I am struggling with is finding a moment of truth every day. I need to spend more time working on that before I can bring it to the boys.

 

She encourages folks to determine what they desire. Not the surface, materialistically things but what you really and truly desire. We are starting a family vision board, and its very enlightening because I didn’t realize how aligned our visions are. There are the silly things-sports cars, designer shoes, fancy tools-but there are some other things like a trip to Disney Land or a garden. Its also encouraging us to have discussions on where we are as a family and where we would like to head.

 

One of my favorite tools Beck suggests is the use of treats. She doesn’t just mean food (although that works just fine), but anything that jazzes you. Its another form of a happy list. The trick is to give yourself permission to partake and enjoy your treat, which for some folks like me, is a difficult task.

 

The final tool is feasting. Again, this isn’t just food. It’s a feast for the senses, whether its sitting out on the deck enjoying the sunset or snuggling on the couch watching a movie. The key is that it is a ritual, that sets your feast apart from the rest of the day. It's something that feeds you physically, emotionally, intellectually or spiritually. The other key is that you need to be grateful and show gratitude for it.

 

For one of our new year, new you resolutions I put my family on a diet. We’ve never been happier.

Birthday

Since my son was in preschool, 

I have baked cupcakes for him to share with his classmates for his birthday. 

I think I may have baked my last batch, since he is in 5^th grade. 

It left me teary eyed as I watched him walk to the bus, swinging the cupcake holder.

 I know he’s growing up, but its bittersweet. I love the fact that he’s turning into this amazing young man, but I also want him to be little just a little bit longer. I see his chubby cheeks morphing into a slender face. I see his body elongating. He’s developing his own taste and ideas, and less inclined to blind faith. I decided for this year, we were going to have tie-dyed cupcakes with bright blue frosting. 

As I scattered sprinkles on top of them,

 I was wistful. It brought me back to the first time I did them, with white frosting and happy birthday spelled out in candies. My little boy was growing up and this is a chance to celebrate.

 

1 box white cake mix

8 oz fruit punch soda (I used our soda stream)

Food coloring

 

Preheat oven to 350. Line your cupcake pan with wrappers. Mix the cake mix with the fruit punch soda (it needs to be fizzy). Stir in food coloring just enough to be in there but not completely blended. Fill wrappers ¾ full.  Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes. Let cool, then decorate.

Twisting by the Pool

 

This past weekend, it was hot, humid and steamy on the northern plains. In other words, it was the perfect weather to go to a water park.  I should mention that I am not really a water park kind of gal. For one thing, you really need to wear a swimsuit to a water park. Despite all my professions of loving my body as it is, its hard to feel all pumped up about how you look in a bathing suit. I do it because my son loves to go swimming, and as a mom, I owe that to him. So vanity aside, I put on the spandex and go.

I haven’t been a water park fan since the days of Vernon Valley Action Park. It was a water park (using that term loosely) in Vernon, NJ. It was the happening place back in the day, when I was in college, mostly. There was a rapids ride, in a tube like Congo Rapids at Great Adventure, that was a lot of fun. There were some slides that were super terrifying that I inevitably got hurt on. Then there was this grotto like swimming hole that was always filled with creepy guys and idiots thinking they were cliff diving in Mexico. One of the slides gave you a major wedgies so badly you could hardly walk afterwards. Good times.

It was Jersey Shore, minus the shore.

Weird NJ has an entire section on their website devoted to "Traction Park".

Mashable even made a documentary about it. Check it out here: http://mashable.com/2013/08/28/action-park/

As a result, I am not a fan of water parks.

However, my son’s scout troop was going as their beginning of the year kick off. We went to Wild Water West, which is on the outer limits of Sioux Falls. Seeing the rising water slides in the distance always makes my kiddo happy. I was fully prepared for a long, heat filled day with overpriced, unhealthy food and crowds galore.

I was pleasantly surprised.

They had salads. Greek yogurt. Frozen grapes. Water.

Oh yeah, and funnel cake.

Little Man (who, I must add, is not so little any longer) loves the wave pool as much as I do. The first time he went in, he was hesitant, but learned to bob with the flow. It made me think of the Whitman poem:

 

 Ebb, ocean of life, (the flow will return,)
Cease not your moaning you fierce old mother,
Endlessly cry for your castaways, but fear not, deny not me,
Rustle not up so hoarse and angry against my feet as I touch you
         or gather from you.

From Walt Whitman’s As I Ebb’d with the Ocean of Life

 

 

There is a pirate’s ship play area. 

Its designed for kiddos, but of course teens and even some adults (like me) can’t resist. I went on there to make sure my son was ok. There is a giant pirate head that fills up with water, and then pours it out in a giant, whooshing dunking motion. 

My son said to me that it happens every 45 seconds. We stood and counted together, as we waited to get dunked. Not very long ago, my son was terrified of having his hair washed and getting water on his head. That day, we were drenched by gallons and gallons of water.

He convinced me to go down the slides with him. We laughed and had more fun than we’ve had together lately. We climbed ropes and gangplanks. 

We shot water cannons at others. And got dunked over and over again.

 As we were getting ready to leave, he grabbed my arm and told me to look at the sunset starting. “Mom, isn’t it beautiful?” Yes, son. Yes it is.