Time for Change

Many changes in our lives over the last several months. Change is good. Change can be painful. Change forces us to take stock of what's important to us and make adjustments. And change is always nice to find in the laundry.

At the tail end of Thanksgiving break - I let my college sons know we thought we'd pick out a Christmas tree the following weekend if they wanted to join us. Every year we go out to a tree farm, hike through the mud, drink hot cocoa and "discuss" the perfect tree. Mind you, I use quotes because you can imagine what it's like for 5 people, who all have their own idea of the perfect tree, who have been raised to voice their opinion ...add to that we live in the Northwest, which means there are many varieties to offer. Since our college sons live close by, I thought it might be fun to go out together on the weekend. Little did I know this was another change.

Mark was very kind when he suggested he might not be available - so maybe we should just go and he would join us if he could. It turned into a bit of a lengthy conversation on independence and the pursuit of "doing my own thing." At one point, he asked if I could promise my feelings weren't going to be hurt. That's one promise I cannot make - but "I will do my very best not to manipulate you with my blubbering, bleeding heart" I reassured him. It started a series of changes for our family this season.

We planned to get our tree a little earlier this year as we had bumped up the date of our annual "Who-bilation Christmas Celebration" so the college friends who were still in town could come by for some festive atmosphere and homeyness before finals week. I had just about given up on going out to get a tree when my dear husband asked if he could just go get it while I was at a women's brunch. At this point, I didn't really care, our party was the next day - and I agreed.

When I came home, I opened the door to the most glorious smell and the perfect tree. It was BEAUTIFUL!!! Bonus, my shoes weren't muddy, my sanity in check and there it stood, our Christmas Tree. Thank you Jesus for this momentous occasion. This was the first year in our 22 years of marriage Paul did the hunt on his own. I asked him how it went, thinking maybe it was a sad moment. He said it was amazing. He went to two local tree lots, found the perfect tree in less than 15 minutes and his family still loved one another.

Later that evening while Paul was putting the lights on the tree, he tossed out another possible change. You see, over the years, we have given each of our boys their own ornament, with the notion one day they will have a tree of their own with decorations that reminded them of childhood. The tree decorating is full of memories and nostalgia we rehearse as we decorate. I LOVE that! Paul suggested we not decorate the tree as a family - but let the guests at the "Whobilation" decorate it as a fun activity. Have I ever mentioned how brilliant my husband is? Well, he's a smart one for certain!!

And there we were, with another change. This change, though a little painful, gave me greater peace this Christmas time. Can I ask, what is giving you peace this season? How are you welcoming change in your life?

The GREEN River

I’d like you to know something about me. I dream. I dream vivid dreams. I dream in color. I dream crazy things, and I dream beautiful things. I am not talking about the kind of dreams that are inspired in my consciousness, but the ones that happen somewhere in the REM cycle. And ready for this, I believe God often speaks to me in my dreams.

Often when I have dreams which are significant – they occur more than once and I can still picture today in detail, what these dreams were. Sometimes, I am not sure if it was a dream, or something that really happened, because the detail was so vivid and familiar. It helps that I write my dreams down, and then I know they were dreams…..and not a recollection of an actual experience. I think this is a blessing, though odd at times, a blessing because of my relationship with my God. I’d like to tell you about a dream I had over three weeks ago.

I was riding in an old truck. I wasn’t the one driving the truck but someone I knew. I cannot identify who it was. Sitting on my right was one of my sons. At this point in the dream, I don’t know who it is, but I know he’s my son. We are riding down a dirt road with a hillside on our right and a beautiful green river on the left. The river was an unusual color of green. Almost like an antique milk glass green. The water was opaque and running swiftly. I kept my eye on the water as it was so beautiful.

The driver of the truck and I were talking about ideas and plans. I don’t know quite what it was – but the kind of conversation where we were headed in the same direction. Bouncing ideas back and forth and getting excited about our discussion. Then there was a turning point in the conversation.

I am not sure what was said, but it became clear, I wasn’t in agreement with something the driver had suggested. And it was clear, he wasn’t happy about it. As he looked at me with anger in his eyes, he carefully laid the truck into the river. It wasn’t a crash, but an intentional laying down the truck into the river.

(One of the things I am fearful of is drowning in a body of water, as a result of being stuck in a vehicle.)

The next thing I remember, my son, who I can now identify as my youngest son Andrew, and I were on top of the water, floating in the river. The truck was sinking and I no longer saw the driver. I remember thinking, “What just happened?”  I knew however, that Andrew and I were ok – in that beautiful GREEN RIVER. Then I woke up.

If you take a look at the biblical symbolism of the elements in the dream, you will find some interesting things. (Elements being the driver, family, accident, the river, the green color) Here is my take.

I was riding along with someone else in control – with someone I am responsible for, family, by my side. We were at the mercy of the driver. When the driver became unhappy that I couldn’t agree, he took me to one of my greatest fears and attempted to destroy me and my family. The driver had no idea he was laying me into the hands of the Father, the Holy Spirit washing over me with joy, comfort, peace and hope. We were going to be ok.

I believe this dream to be a message to me, and I hope encouragement to you. When you submit your life to the hands of your Creator – even in your deepest fears, he will bring your comfort and beauty.

Baking for Boys

When I was in grade school, I remember coming to Oregon on a visit (we were living in Texas at the time) to visit some of my mom's cousins. She has a cousin, named Eva May. Our visit to Cousin Eva May's was memorable. She baked fresh bagels in her kitchen and sold them at a local bakery. They were the most delicious. In Texas, we'd never eaten bagels. These were divine. I can still remember her boiling what looked like to be donuts. I think we filled our freezer in the camper with her delightful baked goodies. She made all kinds of flavors.

This past fall, when Mark and Tim were in the early weeks of their freshmen year of college, I began baking. It's now an official part of our week. I bake Tuesday nights, I text them on Wednesday morning to let them know where to pick up their fresh baked items from the kitchen. I have only repeated a recipe a few times - chocolate chip cookies for instance. This week - I tried something new - bagels.

Since they were pretty simple - and better than what you will find wrapped in a plastic bag in your local grocery - I thought I'd share.

Simple Bagels - makes 1 Dozen 
I have indicated the ingredients you need in bold so it's easier to make your grocery list - or determine what you need. Happy Baking!!

1. Dissolve 1 tsp yeast in 1 1/4 Cup of warm milk (110-115 degrees)
2. Add 1/4 C softened butter, 2 T sugar, 1 t salt and 1 egg yolk
3. Mix Well
4. Stir in 3 3/4 C flour - knead dough 10 minutes
5. Add flavors you'd like as you knead - I used 2 tsp cinnamon and a handful of raisins - you could add minced onion and shredded cheese, garlic etc...
6. Form dough into a large ball in place in a greased bowl, cover and let rise for an hour
7. Punch dough down and form into small balls - about the size of a racketball - poke a hole in the center and stretch a little - set on a non stick cookie sheet
8. Let bagels onto cookie sheet while you boil a pan of water and preheat oven to 400 degrees
9. Drop bagels into water 1-3 at a time and wait until they float (15 seconds or so). Remove from pot and put on cookie sheet.
10. Bake at 400 degrees ~ 13-20 minutes (depending on your oven) - brown on the bottom and golden on the top.
11. Cool on a wire rack!  YUMMY!!

A couple of pictures of the process....

Bagels boiling in the water

Pasta scoop to lift bagels out of the water

Listening to and with your Heart

It was 19 years ago this very month that we received the news: Our boys we were excited to welcome to the world had less chance of surviving than living. While a senior in college, here at George Fox, I was diagnosed with a rare syndrome, and the first specialist recommended that we go ahead and terminate the pregnancy. My husband and I weren’t about to consider this option, but didn’t know what to do. This began a series of visits to see specialists and make some big decisions. It was a conversation with a perinatologist that forever changed my perspective on parenting.

After a review of my case, and several tests, Dr. Jackson asked me a simple question: “How do you feel?” While I had this unusual syndrome, my pregnancy “felt” completely normal – albeit being a bit larger than even most moms carrying twins. He agreed that things didn’t look very promising, but asked me what I thought about what was going on. What was my gut telling me? I was slightly puzzled by this question because I was just a college student, and though I’d considered medical school, I was just now an undergrad student in a liberal arts college. What did he mean? He then explained: No matter what the statistics are in a case like yours, and no matter what the test results show, as a mom, you have been given instinct. Only you know what that is for your child. He wanted to know what my heart was saying about the situation.

I knew in my heart things were going to be all right. I didn’t know what that meant completely, but I knew that we needed to proceed and do what we could to protect Mark and Tim’s lives. And because of my deep faith in the God of all creation, I knew I could trust him. I could trust God to walk me through whatever was in front of us. Whether these boys would survive was out of my control, but I could trust the future to him. It was my hope, of course, that this was a nightmare I would quickly wake up from. I had no real idea this was a dream and a journey of incredible significance – one that God would use to show me his grace and allow me to be a comfort to others in similar circumstances. (You see, that’s what God does. He uses our lives to bring about his purposes, when we allow him to. We simply need to listen.)

As a parent, you can read all of the books, listen to well-known experts in the area of child psychology, and prepare financially for the little bundles that you dream about and one day welcome to your home. And then you have a moment in your parenting when all that matters is what you know to be true in your heart. You have a gut instinct when it comes to your children. I believe that instinct is most often driven by the Holy Spirit speaking directly to us. We should listen.

Our culture most often encourages us to tell life what you want, tell others what you want … tell, tell and tell. I am learning once again how important it is to listen, listen and listen. Learning to listen to the Holy Spirit takes time. It seems that Jesus spent the majority of his ministry years doing just that - listening. He was often found coming back from, going to or in the midst of listening to His Father. I want to model my life after his - and take more time to listen - listen to and with my whole heart. How about you?

The Martha Perfect Christmas Takes on a Whole New Mary

I am a woman about tradition. I love traditions. I come by it honestly – with a southern family – tradition runs deep through my veins. At Christmas time – I can get a little out of control with my traditions and create expectations of myself that are completely unnecessary. At least, that’s what I learned at Thanksgiving.

With their dorm room settled and comfortable, routines established and beds neatly made, I wasn’t sure Mark and Tim would want to come back home for Thanksgiving weekend. In fact, when they moved to campus in the fall, they turned their room into a “music studio” because they said they had no need for beds at home any longer. Much to my surprise, they decided to come home for the long weekend. I have to admit; I was jumping with joy on the inside, but tried to maintain my cool on the outside.

You might believe that I see my boys quite often; since I work in the place they live and breathe. However, they have busy lives on campus. Busy lives that include new friends, challenging course work, late night runs for coffee and practical jokes. Much like your own children, I am pretty certain.

Typically, during the Thanksgiving weekend, we create the family calendar for the Christmas season. You see, I am married to a pastor, which means we have activities that we must attend, activities that we’d like to attend, and activities that we wish we could attend. And the calendar is full. I wanted to be careful about my own expectations of the college sons' participation in the “traditions” that we have created over the years. Though they live in the same town, they have their own lives.

Traditions include St. Nicholas Day and the arrival of presents in their wooden shoes, hunting for the perfect Christmas tree, lights on the house, musical performances, baking and the annual open house, church services, going to look at Christmas lights, gift exchanges and family events with grandparents, aunt, uncles and the cousins – and of course, the annual cousin sleepover at our house. Someone reminded me recently, “Why can’t Christmas just be about Jesus?”

That personal challenge has caused me to take a step back. Do I really need to maintain a frenzied holiday season, in order to call it Christmas? If you took a look at my schedule, and the precision with which I approach the Advent Season – you would think so. Not this year because of what happened Thanksgiving weekend.

The treasured moments from the weekend included: 1)taking a breather from the Black Friday shopping to sit and watch people at 2am with my three sons and two college friends, 2)making great nachos together in the kitchen to watch a football game, with my three sons, 3)finding the perfect jacket and shirt at the thrift store, where it’s Black Friday – every day – with 2 of my sons, and 4)waking up one of my sons from an afternoon nap to make sure he had time to get his homework done. You see, the treasured moments are times with family – relationship.

I believe Christmas is about Jesus. And I believe if Jesus had skin on today, and walked around my neighborhood and your neighborhood – he would spend time with the ones he loved. He wouldn’t bake until 3am, unless he did it with somebody. He wouldn’t hang up Christmas lights on the house, unless he could do that with someone. And I do think he would go to the thrift store, to find that perfect jacket – but only if he took friends with him.

Luke 10 verses 40- 43 says, “But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

So this year, the tradition is about time with the people I love – even if that means less baking and more listening, less calendar planning, and more spontaneous meals prepared together with what we have on hand. I am still a woman about tradition….with a little less Martha and a little more Mary.

It's a small and crazy world.....

After 24 years, Balsam and I are back together.  She and I were friends in high school, and like a lot of high school friends, parted ways as we both went off to college.  Only, she ended up back in Iraq and I safe and sound in the Pacific Northwest.  We lost touch with one another - to be reunited again, years later. Balsam is a bit of a modern day Corrie Ten Boom. I really think there is a story to be written....watch for more.

The amazing part - though we had a lot to catch up on - including her miraculous survival and protection living in a very oppressed place, it was like we'd never left one another.  Like the 24 years was only the weekend.  Those kinds of friendships are rare. Our lives have been so different over the last  2 1/2 decades, and yet I think it has been providential to become reconnected.

"I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11

Only God really knows what the future holds - and yet I believe he can take the rubbish (as my UK friend Balsam would say) of our lives and create a masterpiece.  I am humbled to see what he is doing in both of our lives. Today, I am thankful, more than ever before, for the blessings and the high calling on my life.  I am far from equipped, but believe the Father will equip me with all that I need.

Sending them off...

My two oldest DS are headed out to lead worship at a Junior High retreat. I am happy for them and excited about how they are using their gifts for good.  As I watch them grow up - it's fun to see, and also hard to experience.  Letting go is hard.  Do they realize when they get into the car, they are carrying my precious cargo?  Do they realize how important it is to take care of themselves.....because I want one more hug, one more kiss on their cheek and one more chance to tell them how wonderful they are?

I believer the Father thinks the same of his children. When we head out the door into the world, do we realize how important we are to the Father?  Do we realize that each step we take, thought we entertain and word we say is a part of his precious cargo?  Do we really understand that who we are and what we do MATTERS to the King of the universe?  Well, it does!

Maybe that's part of what the scripture is talking about - when it says, "whatever you do, do it as if you were serving the Lord..."