30.

We went out for dinner with friends and family the weekend after my 30th birthday, and it was so fun and special. Just a night out is a huge treat! Our friend recently sent this picture of Ricky's funny, sweet toast to me. I'm not usually one for birthday parties, but this was really lovely.

Thirty feels good so far.

(Posting will probably continue to be light until early June at least--I'm in an intense season of learning at work and a not-so-intense season of calm quiet at home. Both are much-needed, I think.)

another way

Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one. -F. Nietzsche

What exactly are we supposed to do with our anger? A good friend of mine once called it the healthiest emotion, which I think it certainly can be. Be angry and do not sin.

Feeling angry on a regular basis and not sinning is fairly exhausting in my own strength. Placing people into categories puts a band-aid on anger; making it easier to dismiss those with whom I disagree. Underneath, though, the wound festers.

Facebook, that great reveal-er of the human heart, helps us right along with this, doesn't it? So many broad proclamations; so many opportunities for subtle jabs. And so it goes: oh, you voted for President Obama? You must believe in abortion on demand and want to see churches stripped of their right to teach what they believe. You're a liberal elite. Obviously, you don't care about what the Bible has to say. Oh, you voted for Governor Romney? You must want all women to be barefoot and pregnant, with no agency of their own, and believe that everyone on Medicaid is lazy. You're a conservative, completely unaware of your own privilege in this society. Obviously, you don't care about the poor. (I've hyperbolized this a bit, but not too much, as you probably well know.)

My own personal Battle of the Categories has been largely internal. I feel compelled (Holy Spirit, is that you?) to let some light in. I want to see people for who they really are: a great many things.

I am thankful for the everyday prophets who call me out of the false dichotomies I have railed against and find myself slipping into. Categories make us feel safe, but they also kill any chance for relationship. In real life, people defy those categories. In real life, we have to find ways to champion justice and mercy. So many people talk about the straight and narrow road in terms of salvation, but these days I think of that phrase in terms of my interactions with other people. It is hard to be kind out in the open and in secret; not to think of anyone as ridiculous. (Because, if you hear their stories, you'll know they're not.)

My husband does something that I love: he wanders the halls at church, and talks to people. He's brave and curious enough to ask the good questions, and talk about the real things. Back when we first met, I used to think man, he makes a lot of eye contact. It's disconcerting to be noticed when you're trying to hide, but don't we all need that? He is a listener, in a world of people who just want to be heard.

Here's a thing: as I've moved from a place of struggling with the nature of God to a place of struggling with evangelical culture, as I've come closer to conclusions about questions I once didn't have answers for, I find it much easier to place people in categories. I find I've become less interested in the stories of people I don't agree with. Yikes. That needs to stop.

Here's another thing: I like having a few more answers these days. I like it that when I hear something that misrepresents who I've found God to be, a voice in my head firmly says no. There is so much more peace in my heart this way. But at the same time, I don't want to ever be comfortable with writing people off.

Something I love about Christianity, in its purest form, is that it offers another way. The only agenda we have to cling to is that of Jesus.

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question. "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? Jesus replied: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Matthew 22:34-40

(Oh, Jesus. I love you. You cut right through all the noise.)

Loving God with all my heart means I stay vulnerable, sensitive, open to the idea that I may be wrong.

Loving God with all my soul means I keep a sacred space for Him to work on me, with me, through me. It means I'm careful about what ideas about Him I let in.

Loving God with all my mind means I get to ponder, deconstruct, find the holes, imagine, and rejoice when He reveals new things to me. It means I get to grow at my own speed.

And loving my neighbor as myself? That means other people get to grow at their own speed. It means they get to protect their treasures from the harsh light, too. It means I should strive to create a safe space for them to be vulnerable. 

There's a beautiful line from one of my favorite poems: I Ask the Impossible by Ana Castillo:

...love me as you always have:
not as admirer or judge, but with
the compassion you save for yourself in your solitude.

Admiration isn't necessary; neither is judgment. There is another way.

they just do

We survived round one of sickness here, but now we're firmly ensconced in round two. It's Little Miss this time, with a slight fever, congestion, a cough and sad, watery eyes. Ricky's not feeling great either, and has a really busy work week ahead. I'm trying to figure out how to do the whole work thing tomorrow. (It's times like these that the idea of quitting my job for a season sounds mighty appealing. I would miss it, but I would not miss figuring out childcare/calculating how many days I can call in. I can't remember the last time I called in for any reason other than the kids being sick. And I only do one shift a week! Sheesh.)

So, there's that. We also put up our Christmas tree and some decorations yesterday, and started our new tradition of opening up one book a day until Christmas, and reading it together. I haven't cleaned up the decorating aftermath mess yet, and Silas has broken one ornament so far today, and eaten the heads off two or three candy canes. Christmas is prettier at night, eh?

Last night I loved taking Little Miss to see the tree, her very first Christmas tree, and seeing her eyes widen a bit as she reached out her hands, and Silas exclaiming "oooooh, beautiful" when he saw it, and just watching Nicky put ornaments on the tree, no matter how close together he clumped them, and Ricky teaching him how to properly fluff a tree (that man is particular about fluffing Christmas trees, let me tell you.) I just sat back and enjoyed the scene. I'm learning.

Christmas (the parent version anyway) is stress, with pockets of grace and beauty that surprise and delight. It's sweeping up little green pine needles and broken bits of a shiny red ornament, and letting them plug in the lights again, just because they're beautiful and it makes them so dang happy. It's re-discovering old memories, and it's making up for old memories. It's a big to-do list and plenty of grumbling under my breath, and sitting in wonder, taking lessons these little ones who don't have to try yet, they just do. 

San Diego

                                      

highlights: sweater and boot weather, three date nights in a row, a dueling pianos bar, hours of uninterrupted reading, Thai food, walking walking walking, dessert paired with jazz music, clouds, silliness, not having a fixed destination or plan in mind, beautiful views, and the realization that it only takes about 30 minutes to pack up a hotel room with only our stuff to pack. Ricky: doesn't this usually take like two hours? :)

I like my life partner. It was good to get away and be just us for a few days.

needy

"Thank you for being so wonderful", Ricky said to me, kissing me goodbye and packing up for work today. I love that he still heads out the door with a backpack. I say exactly what I'm thinking, which is "You're wonderful. I'm not wonderful. I'm just grumpy." Last night was a long game of musical beds: I caught some sleep sitting up in bed with Little Miss, snoozed next to Silas in his bed after carrying him back to it, and was then closing my eyes for long intervals while we talked. He re-heated my lukewarm coffee and handed it back to me, that sweet man of mine.

I need him; I do.

play kitchen

This past week Ricky and I did this little project together. Honestly he did about 75% of the work, as I'm fairly terrified of all things involving saws. It was fun and frustrating, as projects tend to be. Inspired by Pinterest of course.

We used an old kitchen cart/tv stand that's been sitting in our garage for about a year, and attached a flat board to the back after painting both pieces. 

Ricky cut a circle for the sink, and attached another piece of flat board on hinges for the oven door, and added a door pull onto it. We used a craft cardboard "J" and wooden craft balls and wheels for the sink and oven knobs, and painted on the burners with chalkboard paint. Everything is screwed into place except for the cardboard J which will definitely need to be replaced. We used Gorilla glue for that, but Silas has already pulled it off twice. I'm on the lookout for a wooden J that doesn't contain curlicues and that's not too small. The bowl for the sink and the little shelf were thrift store finds. I have an empty picture frame for a window as well that needs to be put on. I made a simple curtain and hung it on a tension rod.

The boys were around while we were making it, so it wasn't a total surprise, but we did stay up late Saturday night to finish it and stocked it with some play food and dishes that they didn't know about. They were excited to see it all finished and ready to play with. Silas just likes that he gets to take stuff out and carry it around, and Nicky's had fun playing restaurant with it. I'm so glad they like it, and I'm also excited to have something that both girls and boys can enjoy, since we may have a little girl staying with us soon.

It feels really good to have this done. It sure looked a lot easier to make than it was! Thanks, Ricky, for innocently agreeing to "help" me with this project.

learning a person

We sat up late a few nights ago after the kids were tucked away and talked about our teenage years. Ir was after a long day for both of us; me still in my scrubs and him leaning back into the chair and drinking a tall glass of cold water. He was deep into some old memories, and we shook our heads, and had our silences, and laughed a bit too. I joined in, re-examining some things that have gotten clearer over the years, and some things that haven't yet. I don't know how you turned out the way you did, I tell him, again. Some stories are familiar, and some are new, but we keep remembering to tell each other more. I'm starting to understand how you can spend a lifetime learning a person.

I'm so grateful for the man who sits across from me--for his softness with our children and his ability to push back against ideas, for how he makes me brave, for the understanding we've grown into over the years. One thing I never knew--people can be honest and real and loved all the more for it. I used to think love, in part, was about hiding. Protecting feelings, protecting from the ugliness in me. We've put so much out on the table, and I love him more than ever.

August 2005

God rest ye merry

Yesterday was a weird and wonderful day. It was slow and sleepy all morning at work but then the drama began, and just continued on and on like it does. I sat down to chart after finally giving report and didn't even know where to begin. "Dive in and don't come out until you're done", an older nurse advised, on her way out. Yeah, pretty much. I was there late enough to realize I miss working nights. There's a totally different energy and camaraderie going on. I felt like sticking around just to hang out, look at ridiculous chest x-rays, talk smack about the doctors and just generally shoot the breeze. You have time to do that kind of thing on nights. Too bad it's so hard on the rest of my life, or I would totally go back to it.

So I tapped away at the keyboard until I was satisfied with my accounts of the day (because if you don't document it, it didn't happen says the nursing school instructor in my head) chatted a bit, and finally packed my backpack, made my way out of the maze of the ICU, clocked out, and walked out the doors to a deliciously cold and rainy night. I felt a little like having a John Locke moment (the one from Lost, not the civil society guy) it was so nice. There are things I really love about my job. The feeling of going home, completely spent, is one of them.

I got home and Ricky had three surprises for me. One, he hung up Christmas lights outside. Two, he learned to play this version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings that we've been hearing on Pandora and love:

and three-he picked up my cell phone that I was sure was long gone. I left it at a store the day before and was sure someone took it, but turns out it was still there, and they called him. 

I'm so full of love for this guy, for a million little reasons.  

Today we're all home. The boys are playing, Ricky's working on his take-home final and I'm crafting, sipping, browsing and ignoring the whites in the washer. A big pot of posole with crusty bread is in the works.

I am thankful for contrast.

Father's Day

Happy Father's Day, Ricky!

    

Thanks for loving these little guys so well;

for giving of yourself every day.

You make me so proud.

I love you!

my loves

On Saturday I gave Nicky a plate of brownies to decorate, and he went to town. I really love activities that get him excited for holidays. Maybe it's weird, but I always enjoy the days leading up to a holiday more than the day itself.

He also made some valentines for his "church friends" as he calls them, and handed them out yesterday. Ricky bought me the most amazing cookie ever at the church bake sale-I think it was one of these. Whatever it was, it was sooooo good. This is how Sundays usually go: Ricky leaves early to play music for the first service, while I get myself and the boys ready (takes just about all morning still), then we head off to the second service where I drop Nicky off at his class, and sometimes put Silas in the nursery if I feel like it. Sometimes I still like to keep him snuggled up with me for service. That means spending a good chunk of service in the nursing moms' room. Ricky and I both usually end up hanging out in there, in our rocking chairs, chatting about the sermon and whatever else comes up. It's nice, in this season.

Anyway, this Sunday the weather was beautiful so we took the littles out for a hike (which right now means a short walk in the desert/mountains). It was Silas' first time in the hiking backpack and he did well. Our experience with Nicky and this particular backpack was that it was great while he was little enough to fit down into it, but as he got longer his head would just flop around after he fell asleep about five minutes into a hike. So, we may be investing in something else for Silas, when he's bigger.

Penny was pretty tired at the end. Poor little short-legged creature....

It was a lovely Sunday with my family. I sure do love them.

reasons I like Ricky

• he says thank you every time I make food
• he has all the qualities that make a good Dad: he's fun, he's very consistent with discipline (more than me, I admit it), and at the end of the day a big softie
• he is always warm
• most mornings, there is coffee made when I get up because of him
• he is good at a lot of stuff (music, techy/nerdy stuff aka bringing home the bacon, latin dancing, conversations, including people in social situations, and he's dang smart)
• he would disagree with my use of the word "smart" because it doesn't really mean anything; he's dang intelligent then
• he's loyal and trustworthy, a good friend
• he's more honest than Abe
• he's a good taste-tester and food-seasoner

to be continued.....there are so many!

he practices