what is knitting your family together this christmas?

i was fumbling with the coffee maker when i noticed it sitting there on the counter: two needles plunged securely into a round ball of gray yarn. things sometimes aren't what they seem in the murky hour of 6am. and my son's knitting might have been one of those things.

attached to the needles and ball was about 18 inches of knitting. 18 inches of neatly ordered rows. the work of my boy's hands.

you heard me right, my 16 year old son is knitting -- a scarf, to be exact.

early morning or not, coffee coursing through my body or not -- it's true.

this boy who can throw it down on the soccer field or kick it up on a dirt bike; this boy who can gut a fish or track a deer or handle a jump on his snowboard; this boy, this same boy, my boy, is knitting.

your eyebrows raise a bit. i know ... mine, too.

while waiting for the keuring to spew out my first morning cup, i picked up his project, studying his handiwork. "not bad for a first time knitter," i thought to myself.

who am i kidding? not.bad.for.a.16.year.old.boy.period!

grabbing that warm mug, now ready, i smiled. how did this happen?

i'm not exactly sure, but it was a thursday night last week. a school night and both boys -- connor (10) and tyler (16) wandered into the office where i was up to my eyeballs in christmas cards. they came in to chat, but after staring at my basket of yarn for a minute, they announced they'd like to learn how to knit. "mom, will you show us?" just like that. it was late and i was skeptical. surely they weren't serious. but, rick was traveling and i was tired of sticking address labels on envelopes ... and so, i said, "sure, we can knit."

--- after all, it's not every thursday night when a woman's two sons approach her with a request to knit.

and as a mother, i know, when your boys want to knit. you knit. it really is that simple

i mean i was pretty sure they were just trying to stall and push back on bedtime. obviously that thought crossed my mind. except they were extremely focused on what i was teaching them. they were serious. intent. even kind of boyishly-determined. they really did seem to want to learn.

hmm ... i thought. strange.

i posted this unlikely event on facebook and got a lot of "likes" and some funny comments. i was sure it was no more than an evening distraction ... a phase ... a passing fancy ... an odd alignment of the handiwork stars. except they are still both knitting. and, except that a few nights later, the girls and a couple of friends joined them, too! one night last week i had 6 kids knitting in my family room by the fire. no television. no netflix. no phones. no you tube or snap chat or instagram or twitter. only the clicking of bamboo needles and some fun conversation. let's just go ahead now and file this into that you-can't-make-this-stuff-up AND i-can't-believe-my-eyes folder!

and what's more, tonight, and i kid you not, tyler went to the gym to work out and on his way home he STOPPED AT THE KNITTING STORE. he not only stopped at the knitting store, but HE BROUGHT ALONG THE BUDDY WHO WAS WORKING OUT WITH HIM.

again, all together now: YOU-CAN'T-MAKE-THIS-STUFF-UP!

the truth is though, you know i love it. i love the unexpected twist. i love the unsuspecting turn. and i really love that for several nights now, the kids and i have been sitting around knitting our scarves in this month of december. i love that in these new and strange stitches our family is being kind of knit together in a new way.

it's the things we can't plan, isn't it? it's those things which often work to make connections with our kids in our homes. i could have spent a month talking up the great knitting project of christmas 2013 and i'm telling you, it would never have left the starting block. but my boys wander into my office on a thursday night and ask me to teach them to knit and voila! we have knitters.

we even had talk with some good family friends about a "knitting tournament!" best knitting project by the end of christmas wins ... or something like that. (between you and me, our family will turn anything -- even knitting -- into a competition).

i love how unpredictable life can be. especially with kids. especially with teens. you just never know what's coming down the pike ... and, though that can be scary, it can also be delightful. and this knitting thing, well, that's on the side of delightful. delightful because we're all together. we're doing something. we're connecting. we're knitting ourselves as a family when we sit fireside for a few minutes.

people have remarked before, "you're such a close knit family." and we are. but i have to wonder what will keep us that way? as the kids begin journeying off in different directions -- emily will begin college in just a matter of months (gasp)! -- what will keep our crazy family of seven knit tightly together?

what is knitting your family together this christmas?
maybe the better question is, WHO is knitting your family together this christmas?

i had lunch with a couple of girlfriends on monday and we were talking about this very thing. we were talking about how easy (and even common) it is for families to become fragmented and fall apart as kids grow up and leave home. all three of us have witnessed that: brothers and sisters no longer speaking to one another. grandparents who don't know their grandchildren. sons estranged from fathers. daughters from mothers. how does this happen? why does this happen?

how do these children who ran through sprinklers together and chased down the ice cream truck on summer evenings, stop talking in their adult lives?

how do brothers who shared dreams while shooting basketballs and sisters who put on plays for their parents grow to be men and women who don't know much about each other's lives any longer.

i'll be honest, as a mama of five, this worries me.

as my girlfriends and i pounded out these questions over our lunch, we all landed on the same thought: it has to be Jesus who keeps us together. only Jesus can truly and securely knit together families. because when beliefs change and ideas change and people change it feels like family can easily unravel. and without Jesus, the simple truth is, it can, and often, it will. all of those years raised in a home can simply unwind with a few rough conversations or some unpleasant words. sometimes it happens abruptly, sometimes it happens slowly. but without the strong thread of Jesus knitting us together, it happens.

and, if you've experienced this, you know, it's heartbreaking.

psalm 139:13-14 says, "for you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. i praise you, for i am fearfully and wonderfully made. wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well." 

did you read that? God knitted me together! funny to think that God is also a knitter. (i'll have to remember to tell my son that). God's design was to knit us together in the wombs of our mothers and to knit us together in the fabric of a family. it's His design. it's His perfect design. we're the ones who mess it up ... tangle the threads ... cut the yarn. we're the one's who go off course, add extra rows, drop a stitch or forget about the project altogether, abandoning it to a basket somewhere out of sight.

i suppose that's why, especially, at this time of year, we mothers work extra hard to create memories, stir up magic and continue traditions. we want our kids to have something they are woven into when the time comes for them to leave.

we want our family stitches to be as secure as possible.

it's almost a desperate kind of feeling sometimes, isn't it?

but it occurred to me today, that just like my son's knitting, it isn't really about me coming up with the great project or the next memorable thing. it's not really even about me stitching my kids securely together. yes, we should work hard to create "home" for our families, but we also have to remember the only real thing which holds is the thread of Jesus woven through the hallways and hearts of this house. we can add all the trappings and trimmings and tremendously awesome stuff, but only the thread of Jesus truly holds tight.

there aren't any guarantees. i know that. i have five children, and not for one minute do i feel assured that all five will stay knitted together. that is my desire. that is my hope. that is my prayer. but it is not my absolute confidence, because i know the world we live in and i know the sinful people we are and i know the things which snag and snare and even sever family threads.

i'll keep coming up with crazy christmas ideas and family fun projects, but let me not forget that what i really need to be worried about weaving into my family is Jesus. only when we include Him in the knitting process do we have something in our hands to hold onto.

a few days ago a friend sent me this link to storyteller, stuart mclean. she thought, with all the knitting going on over here, i might enjoy it. so, in my crazy-chrsitmas-mother-fashion, i made everyone stay home one night this week and gather in the family room for 20 minutes (harder than you think). we turned on the fireplace and turned off the television. we played it over the computer and we listened. yes, just listened. there was nothing to watch, no video, no screen, no 1000 inch high definition anything. we just sat and listened (and knit). it's a sweet story and it was a sweet time for my family.

i looked at us all sitting around with smiles on our faces, laughing, enjoying mclean's story, and i, as usual, wanted to push the pause button.

Lord, let us stay in this place for a little bit longer: children sprawled across the floor, the dog's head on my lap, christmas lights flickering, sock feet touching and needles clicking. Lord, there aren't any guarantees, but this, right now, this is a gift. let us see the good that what we have and hold it as grace. remind me, the mother, that i cannot plan out the neat rows of our life, but i can surrender the project to you ... God, you are the one who knit these children inside me, would you continue to knit us together in this world of unfinished and unfulfilled days. knit us to you ... knit us in the knowledge of you, Lord Jesus.

so:  if you can find a few minutes, whether you knit or not, i'd recommend you listen to this 20 minute audio. it's a great little christmas piece ... really funny, sweet, and easy to follow. even my family agrees! 
for the link click on stuart mclean's  CHRISTMAS PRESENT

the shepherds

"and there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night."  ~ luke 2:8

me? well, i'm sort of partial to the shepherds. i don't ever like to play favorites, but when it comes to the christmas story, there's something about the shepherds that really gets me.

maybe it's that they seem pretty simple. they were doing their thing: keeping watch over their flocks at night; camped out in a field; minding their own business; literally -- they were counting sheep.

i can hear the low hum of their conversation hillside. i can see them warming chilled hands by a fire. (clearly the setting isn't minnesota). i can imagine their sleepy attempts to stay awake.

their joking. their story-telling. their dream-sharing.

whispers in the dark muttered amongst plain, hard working, sheep-handling men.


the rustle of the animals.
the stillness of the night.
the calm of these caretakers.

and then BAM! 
out of the clear black sky, an angel of the Lord appears. and if that isn't enough, number one angel is joined quickly by a great company of the heavenly host -- a multitude.

now, i'm not exactly sure how many angels that might include, but something about a "great company" or "multitude" makes me think more showed up than a mere three or four. maybe three or four thousand? maybe? perhaps? i don't truly know ... but stop for a minute and just imagine the scene.

can you picture it? can't you just see those sleepy shepherds scrambling up off their hill? clinging to their staffs. pulling back their shepherd headdresses. eyes opening wide in wonder. hearts beating hard in surprise. faces startled into expressions of fear. this heavenly host blinding their sleepy, sheep-counting-eyes.

"do not be afraid. i bring you good news 
which will cause great joy for all the people. 
today in the town of david a Savior has been born to you."

 "... and the glory of the Lord shone all around them." ~ luke 2:11 & 14

these ordinary, simple, everyday, nothing-special shepherds on a hillside come face to face with the good news and with God's glory.

average guys meet glorious angels.

i think that's the part which really gets me when i read this passage.

it's at this moment with shepherds -- keeping watch in their fields ---where the mundane meets the majestic. where the monotony of sheep-watching mixes with something miraculous.

these shepherds in their rough woolen cloth, holding hand-carved staffs, sleepy and just trying to do their job, find themselves smack dab in the middle of God's glory.

it sounds a little like a close encounter with the third kind, doesn't it?

i'm sure they were shaking in their sandals.

i'm sure they were shaking heads in disbelief.

i'm sure the sheep were, suddenly, unimportant.

we know they dropped everything -- even the sheep.

the scripture is clear: "they hurried off..."

were they negligent shepherds? were they looking for a way out of their work? i don't think so. i think they had truly come into contact with the glory of the Lord and, here's the deal:  when you come into contact with God's glory, it quickly puts other things in perspective. you realize the menial tasks of life can be tabled for a time.

these simple shepherds were standing in angelic brilliance and they immediately knew this was big stuff. this was special. this was not your average, every day, shepherd boy's story.

"they hurried off..." excited. confused. bewildered. intrigued. purposeful.

they might have been a bit dazed by the heavenly display, but their is no record of them stopping to discuss the next steps. the only reaction recorded is,"let us now go and see ... and they hurried off." they got a glimpse of God's glory and they hurried off in search of Jesus. they wanted more. they couldn't wait. Jesus became urgent.

personally, i've never come across a great company of angels, but i know with certainty i've seen God's glory. i see it everyday in the little things He brings my way. everyday, i get some kind of glimpse. it's rarely a big dazzling kind of demonstration though. in fact, more often, it's the simple, quiet, unassuming gifts which announce His presence. sometimes, in order for me to take notice, the gifts require me to be more vigilant than a half-asleep shepherd. i have to "keep watch" for them.

but continuously, in little ways, He mixes the miraculous into my messy life making me want to react like those shepherds, who hurried off. i don't want to spend my time deciding or debating or discussing whether or not i should go find Jesus and tell others ... i just want to hurry off and do it without delay.

i want Jesus to be urgent in my life.

i want that kind of wild wonder.

i want to react to His glory -- whether it be startling and brilliant or simple and basic.

i want to be a shepherd-woman who reacts with haste. especially in december; to be woken up out of my sheep-counting, day-counting, present-buying, gift-preparing, party-planning, tree-trimming life ... and i want to hurry off to find Jesus.

how about you? do you want to be more like one of those shepherds on the hillside?

check out the lamb on the right -- missing an ear. bella likes to play
with our nativity set. clearly, i wasn't keeping watch.

you know, we can ask God to show us His glory -- we really can.

let december be a reminder that God appears to the simple, in the simple, and with the simple. His glory probably won't show up like a heavenly host of singing angels {but oh my goodness, how cool would THAT be!}, but it's there for our sheep-counting eyes to see. if we're a little bit sleepy on our hillside of life with heads nodding off and voices  whispering low, maybe, it's time we pull back our shepherd hats and keep watch for what He has for us.

He brought the glorious angels to the simple shepherds
He  brought the Savior of the world to the simple stable.
what gift, today, does He want to bring to simple us?

let's keep watch ... hurry off ... and go find Jesus.

"So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.  ...  

 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told." ~ luke 2:15-20

oh...and please leave me a comment! i think i FINALLY fixed my problem with the comments! if it  still doesn't work --- join me on my facebook page (link is in upper right corner) and tell me it isn't working. i'll be changing from blogger to wordpress somewhere in the new year.  but can't tackle that task at the moment. 

like mary {grace words wednesday}

that's me in the blue! clearly, i'm  pondering (something).

i was mary once. really, i was.

and i assure you, i knew i was an imposter back then at age 11, just as i know it today at 45.

i'm not a mary and it has nothing to do with her virgin birth or no room in the inn, but everything to do with luke chapter 2. verse 19:

 "but mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." 

she treasured and she pondered.

and for that, mary must have stood still long enough to do both.

i, on the other hand, am not doing a whole lot of standing still these days. not in this season ...

and yet ... i want to be. i long to be.

only yesterday morning, i was in bible study and our speaker talked about doing christmas differently this year. she said,

"this year, all i want for christmas is Jesus. Jesus. just to know Him better, to see Him more clearly, to worship Him more wonderfully."

she went on to explain how when she went shopping for the perfect gifts for her children, she wanted to remember it is Jesus who is the perfect gift. when she hung christmas lights on her tree she wanted to think about Jesus, the Light of the World. and when she baked cookies she wanted to keep in mind Who it is that truly satisfies.

i listened to her words and loved everything she was saying. shaking my head in agreement, i thought to myself, "yes, sister, yes!"

but, if i'm honest, i also sat cringing a bit in my secret knowledge of who i really am and how i really operate. especially in busy seasons like these.

i'm not mary. and often, i forget about Jesus.

i, too, want to string lights and remember the Light of the World. but it was just last week that i was wrestling (yes, wrestling) with that stupid, stubborn strand of lights on our tree that went out AGAIN.

i want to remember when i pop a cookie or two (or ten) into my mouth that only Jesus really satisfies  -- but, oh man, how i do love those christmas cookies! i am pretty sure when i was eating one cookie after another at our holiday gathering on sunday i didn't once think about Jesus!

and then, just yesterday morning, at the beginning of her talk, i was half listening while making a list on my iphone of things i had yet to do in my day.

anyone slightly appalled (yet) at the irony or sheer ridiculousness of this situation?

anyone else struggling in this same way?

there i was listening to a lovely lady talk about keeping christ the focus of christmas and i was focusing on my errand list. i was plotting how just after bible study i would quick dash over to the craft store in the next town and purchase my large paper mache letters which i would quick dash home and paint and then arrange on my mantle to spell out "NOEL." (one of those strange decorating "visions" i am prone to).

there i was hearing about the first noel, the birthday of Jesus, and my need to focus on Him, and there i was a woman with no focus.

i wasn't treasuring.

i wasn't pondering.

i wasn't listening.

no, instead i was on my iphone typing. plotting. listing.

because i'm jody and i'm nothing like mary.

mary who the bible tells us was just a young girl. simple. scared. overwhelmed. on her own.

mary who had no experience in birth.
mary who had no midwife or doctor.
mary who had no room in the inn.
mary who had no clue what would be required.

mary who was wrapping in swaddling clothes the very Son of God. the King of Kings.  the Redeemer of Nations. the Prince of Peace.

and i think i'm overwhelmed with what i have to do?

give me a break!

young mary, overwhelmed and under-experienced, was holding Jesus. Jesus!

and yet the scripture, in no way, suggests that she was fretting or pacing or panicking. the only thing it reveals about this young mother after giving birth to the Christ child is her treasuring and pondering.

oh Lord, make me a little bit more like mary.

i don't have to dress up in a blue sheet and hold a baby doll in front of a church service, but Jesus, make me still enough in this christmas season to treasure you. make me quiet enough to ponder the Prince of Peace. make me take notice of the First Noel.

all week in minnesota we've dipped below zero degrees. tonight we are expecting a low of minus 10. it's cold. frozen. frigid. there's a lot of snow. and with this snow comes a hush. a quiet. it's the kind of weather which just makes a person want to stay put. to sit in front of the fire with a cup of coffee. to stare out the window and watch the flakes fall. to be still.

“be still, and know that I am God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,  

  I will be exalted in the earth!” ~ psalm 46:10

like mary: still. treasuring. pondering the Son of God. the exalted among all nations.

sure, everyone's got a lot to do in december and this kind of weather is more like january -- even in minnesota. but the deep cold has come early this year and the stillness and hush have set in.

and today, i realized, i'm kind of glad.

if i can't make myself be still and quiet and calm in this season, than i'm thankful the weather is keeping me in a bit. {okay, so i did rush over to the craft store after bible study yesterday --- i cannot lie} --- but on the way home, i thought more about the message of the morning, and i realized the frozen, bare landscape outside my window is just another reminder to seek Jesus, just as He arrived to mary in that stable --- beautiful. simple. quiet. Jesus.

oh friends, i don't know what it might take for you. but i'm praying this morning that, like mary, you might trade in your december trips and panic for God's treasure and pondering.

whether your hands are nestled in warm mittens or not, let them open to hold the perfect gift, the Christ child ... like mary. 

looking out my front window ...  sometimes God is so incredibly clear.

{grace words: treasuring. pondering. still. noel}

okay, so here's the (infamous) N O E L ...

becky's writing some grace words this morning too! check her out at THE WORD OF GOD AND A CUP OF JOE!

she can't forget

i handed her the pill and some water. watching her swallow, i swallowed right along with her. hard to believe just last week she was in the dominican republic serving on a senior class mission's trip.

now with thanksgiving behind us and christmas around the corner, our home is taking on a festive glow. a glow which isn't easily reconciled with where she's just come home from.

i can see the tree lights behind her as she sets down her water glass.

the malaria pills must be continued for a few weeks after returning to the states. we've set alerts on our phone and reminders on the fridge door. we can't forget.


no, we simply can't forget.

and that's it -- she can't forget either.

she's not so worried about her malaria pill, but what she can't forget is her time spent in the dominican republic.

i can see it in her eyes. she arrived home from her week in a foreign land, speaking a foreign language, living a foreign life. she arrived home and jumped feet first into the holiday hustle. home just in time to plop herself down at the bountiful thanksgiving table. just in time to count blessings and friends and the incredible number of side dishes.

thanksgiving morning she sat at our kitchen counter as i worked on a couple of casseroles and she talked on and on and on about her week in the "DR." when i had completed the strawberry jello salad, i sat with her and we scrolled through her 1500+ pictures. one image of need and brokenness after another spilling out from her computer screen. i'll be honest, it was hard to see. i was so glad she was home and wanted to hear all about her trip, but thanksgiving morning or any morning, it can be hard to take it all in.

she told how on the first day her group went to a big supermarket warehouse and purchased many bags of groceries. they filled their carts with staples and basics and then loaded these bags into their bus heading for a small village on the outskirts of town. a village literally in the middle of the jungle.

as i began to chop vegetables for our wild rice casserole, she went on to explain how shocking it had been when they arrived in the village with their groceries. it was only day one of their trip and she hadn't quite prepared for the enormity of need she would encounter. there was no training. no preparing. no getting ready for a village like this. the bus stopped and they climbed out with their bags and their high school innocence. they walked from house to house in the midst of small children running everywhere in excitement. some of these children only partially clothed. the students followed these children to the houses stepping around dirt and rubbish and random pieces of building material along the way. the homes were devastating to see. emily has been to guatemala and thailand on mission's trips, but these homes were some of the worst she'd ever experienced. the need was overwhelming. the heat incredible. the situation devastating. after offering groceries, they spent time inside some of the houses praying with a few of the people. one lady even insisted on praying for them.

emily gave her testimony in this home here to the right. "this structure was smaller than my bedroom, mom," she explained, "and seven people live here! they all live in this one room!"

and then just a week later, thanksgiving morning, and she was home, sitting in my kitchen telling stories of her first day in this impoverished community. i mixed the wild rice and sauted onion and listened as she talked on and on. one story of impact leading to another. there weren't enough minutes in our thanksgiving morning to hear everything.

how did my daughter leave that scene and then come home to sit at a beautifully appointed thanksgiving table a couple of days later watching us all eat until we could eat no more. how does this happen? how does a 17 year old girl transition between these two worlds? how can any of us easily reconcile the bounty and the burden?

these issues involve a deep wrestling in the spirit. until we go and see and experience life in villages like this, it is easy to forget about our need wrestle.

this week, the kids are back to school and we've stepped from our november holiday right into december. the house is in the process of getting decorated. we are debating big issues like white lights or colored. we are wondering why the garland seems dry and fussing over where to put our nativity scene. i found myself grumbling earlier today over  that stubborn string of lights on the tree which has gone out for the second time. we are making our lists and checking them twice not wanting to forget anything. i've been to the craft store and the floral store and the home goods store 32 times since saturday trying to pull everything together. not wanting to forget an item or a necessary thing.

and then i watch her this afternoon swallow her malaria pill and think about how she must be processing all of this. she was only just last week passing out food to unclothed children and burdened mamas and tired men. just last week she walked the halls of a leprosy center, fed lunch to disabled children at an orphanage, and bartered in the streets of santo domingo.

emily's good friend, kevin, awesome smile, awesome shirt, awesome kid!

i know my girl is full swing back into her suburban minnesota life. she is excited about the holiday season and she is excited about choosing her college and she is excited about things like coffee dates, christmas decorating and snowboarding. life resumes in all of its beauty and wonder, but i also know my daughter has come home changed.

she won't easily forget what she left behind in the dominican republic.

she doesn't need a malaria pill every tuesday to remind her of what she experienced, what she saw. she doesn't need these photos to help her remember. she came home with a heart impacted and eyes opened wider. she came home with a better understanding of need and brokenness and struggle.

in a time when we want to lose ourselves in the glow of the beautiful season, we must remember our blessings. not take any of it for granted. not spend too much time worrying over the casserole or the color of our lights or the gift items on our list.

i know it's just easier to look away from the struggle. it's just easier to focus on the beautiful. i know for my girl, it would be easier to just forget what she saw.

but just like that malaria pill  -- she knows she can't forget. her experience is seared deeply in her heart and it will go with her. it will change her. it will prepare her for another opportunity to go or serve or bless again.

it is probably harder this week for emily to make her list of christmas wants when she has only just come back from a place of such great need. but i would challenge us all to consider that christmas does need to be about the want of others. not just what is on our list ... but what we can do to bless others: how we can come alongside them? where can we meet a need? how can we bless? where shall we serve? what can we do?

maybe the next few weeks don't allow you the opportunity to walk through an impoverished village in a foreign country. but friend, i'd encourage you to look around. chances are you'll find someone pretty impoverished right here where you are.

don't just look, but ask yourself, "what can i do?"

emily went to the dominican to serve. if you think about it, she really wasn't able to "do" a whole lot. she was a 17 year old girl in a group of 60 some students. they were only there for a quick seven days. yes, they built a swing set, played with children, put on skits, shared their testimonies, prayed over people. yes! but considering the great need, someone might argue they didn't make a huge dent in the needs of this third world country. but here's the deal: they did what they could. they did what we are called to do. and maybe the dent they were supposed to make wasn't just in that country, but in their own hearts. maybe we serve and we go and we bless, so that we experience the impact and dent in our own lives. and when we're dented we are also softened and made more aware of what God wants us to do with our time here on earth.

yes, we go on mission's trips to serve others, but we also go to get dented. changed. maybe even wrecked a little bit for the normal things of our comfortable lives.

and then we go again. we serve again. we bless others again. maybe it's not about just doing this one thing  ... maybe it's about how doing one thing changes us in multiple things. in multiple ways. for multiple purposes.

and if it seems these students weren't able to accomplish much, you didn't see the smile on the face of the disabled little girl who had never before experienced a swing. these students built a swing set while they visited and her smile alone was worth the entire trip.

this morning i attended a chapel at the school where the seniors shared their experience with parents and the other students. it was amazing to hear student after student tell stories of their week.  this morning one of emily's friends, luke, was sharing about the time they spent with people at the leprosy center. luke said this, "it was so incredible to see the joy of these people. even though they had suffered so much, even lost limbs and been rejected by people ... even though they didn't have the

another "new swing" smile!

privileges we have, they had so much joy."

another senior girl, elisa, shared her experience when she was feeding a frail woman at the leprosy center. the woman barely had enough strength to swallow her food, but elisa started singing "open the eyes of my heart Lord" and in this morning's chapel,  she told us, "the more i sung, the more it was like i was praying a prayer over her and i couldn't help but think of that verse where Jesus said, 'whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'"

luke and elisa and emily and the rest of this senior class won't forget these experiences. these teens have come home with more than stories and pictures and incredible moments, these kids have come home with a few dents in them. beautiful, beautiful, beautiful dents.

they have a couple more weeks of malaria pills ... but they have a life time to remember the impact from their week in the dominican republic.

this is a home which was built in that jungle village.
this family once lived in one of those ramshackle structures pictured above. such hope!

emily said as they left the village these children chased their bus waving good-bye.

"truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least 

of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." 

~ matthew 25

emily's good friend, lauren, loving on one of the kids.

emily told me this girl is 17 like her...

the students got to play baseball with a group of kids and talk with them

emily with friends, braedy and kevin

the seniors did a drama for students at a public school - love the drama!

emily had a chance to share her testimony with the school kids

cow wandering the roadside eating a little garbage -- oh my!

finding some time to eno in the DR with friends jack and jacob!

peace out!

* for more, check out the slide show emily and her friends put together:  you tube video of DR trip  

december 1st: what are you waiting for?

it was july and he wanted this thing. you know. one of those things which ten year old boys want in july. something to do with a remote and a car and the word "cool."

the boy was longing.
the mother wasn't budging.

it was july.

"well, connor," i calmly explained, "Christmas is coming. we can add it to your Christmas list, buddy."
"but mom, Christmas is soooo far away."

it was july.

and in july it did feel kind of a long way off. but here we are folks -- december first. and maybe for connor it has been a long, long, unbearable wait, but for me, it feels like less than a blink. when you are ten years old and have your eye on something grand time feels different than when you're a mom with a list and a lot to accomplish each day.

as i sit here this morning on the first sunday of december and consider advent, i remember that little exchange with my son and can't help but want to be more like him -- waiting. wishing. hoping. expecting. longing.

longing.

i love that childhood expectant, urgent, excitement of the i-can't-wait!

i'm not really like that so much anymore. not even about Christmas. in fact, if i am honest, i'd love to add another week between thanksgiving and december first. just an additional seven days where i can get ahead of the game and get ahold of my holiday errands. anyone else in agreement?

where the kids flip the calendar and begin to countdown ... i want to slam on the breaks and slowdown. is this evidence of my motherhood, my age, my energy level? perhaps. or perhaps it is evident of what's going on in my heart.

because the fact is, as a mother in a busy household, i have a long list of things which need to get done this month. you too? but this year,  i'm feeling a little bit rebellious because i don't want my december defined by what i have to do. i don't want to count shopping days or count off items on a list ... i want to experience advent.

did you hear me?

i want to be consumed not with a longing to slow down the Christmas season, but a longing for the coming of Christ this season. it's only december 1st and i can tell already, i need to be reminded.

today marks the first sunday of advent. and though this weekend has definitely been about getting our house decorated and ready for Christmas, we are going to hit the pause button tonight and reflect for a minute, not on our Christmas lists or on our decorating to-dos, but on the meaning of advent. stop and reflect before the reindeer games really get going. stop the hustle and bustle and choose to set a tone.

the word advent derives from the latin word that means "coming."

advent is a season of waiting, expecting, and hoping. notice i didn't include "stressing" or even "shopping." it begins on the sunday after thanksgiving and is celebrated each sunday through christmas. there are several ways to remember it. we use a wreath with some candles in our home. lighting one candle each sunday in our remembrance and in our waiting.

we keep it kind of simple: in fact, where most people use five candles, we have used just one giant candle in the center of our wreath. our large candle has the words of advent on it and psalm 39:7. (i typed them, printed them and glued them on with some elmers ... yeah, simple). we light the candle each sunday and we pause for a minute to remember what we are really waiting for. not fun santa and fabulous presents and festive gingerbread houses ... but Jesus.

Jesus --- His birth and His coming again.

sure santa's great -- i agree! but guys, like it or not, he just isn't the one we're truly waiting for. he isn't the main event. if we try to make him that, we'll find ourselves sorely disappointed in our december 25th.

i can write that, but it's different in real life, right? i want my household and my heart to support my words. i want it to be crystal clear we are keeping Christ as the center of our Christmas. and yet, sometimes i wonder, if someone was watching closely, might it be a bit confusing.

so back to this advent thing. whether you choose to use one big candle or the traditional five, here's what each sunday in advent marks:

candle one: the prophecy candle or "hope" candle.
candle two: the bethlehem candle or "preparation" candle.
candle three: the shepherd candle or "joy" candle
candle four: the angel candle or "love" candle
candle five: the Christ candle

you can google advent and come up with all sorts of interesting and creative ways to celebrate!

i'm not suggesting you must add an advent wreath to your home. but i am encouraging you to add some advent to your heart this holiday. the wreath is a good symbol to keep us on track. (and oh dear, do i ever need something to keep me on track). but wreath or no wreath, i'm going to encourage you to pause in the Christmas plans and plan to prepare for the real meaning of Christmas -- Christ.

and december first is a perfect time to begin.

i know our world has taken this holiday and made it about everything else but Him. and if that's true of your home, then this year, i want to challenge you to reclaim it. reclaim it and bring it back to the birth. maybe even strip from it some of the dazzle and distraction. this is not a lecture or a nice little sermonette -- oh no -- i assure you, i have a home which needs some reclaiming too.

so tonight, we will stop. pause. light a candle and remember the hope we have and the hope of Him to come.

if you like the idea of this centuries old advent wreath then put something together today. you can do it. even if there's not an extra wreath sitting around. go grab some evergreen. no evergreen in your yard? well, no worries, your neighbor won't mind you cutting a small branch or two from his! add a few candles. (we all have extra candles in our homes). if you need one, stop on over at our house (i have what my family might label a candle addiction and i could most likely supply most of minnesota --but that's another blog post for another time).

if it's monday morning and you're just reading this. no problem. start your advent tonight. i promise you, longing for Jesus isn't defined by a day of the week. God doesn't care if you light a candle on sunday or monday or friday. He just wants you and your loved ones to keep your eyes on Him -- the Light of the world.

the wreath and the candles are just things. simple symbols. the only thing which really matters is having a heart which wants to enter into advent, looking, longing and waiting for Him.

it's december 1st: what are you waiting for?

“and now, o Lord, for what do i wait? 

my hope is in you.” ~ psalm 39:7

looking for 
an advent 
devotional?

we have used 
nancy guthrie's 
"let every heart
prepare Him room."



just dug it out today and found someone (bella) had added some artwork to december 1st.  

turkey out. tree in -- coming prepared. {grace words wednesday}

“let us come into His presence with thanksgiving.”  ~ psalm 95:2
it's thanksgiving eve morning. is there such a thing? why yes, of course there is. certainly for those who will spend the day in the kitchen preparing everything one can possibly prepare ahead -- for that person, thanksgiving eve morning matters very much.

maybe some of us don't have a turkey or stuffing to whip up this week, but we all have something to prepare --- we certainly all have our hearts to get ready.

some of you have joined me for my daily thanksgiving posts this month and i do hope that has encouraged you a little. (if you want to find them all in one place click on: daily thanksgiving posts). it has blessed me to have some posting accountability, but, if i'm honest, it has also been a challenge. there have been some days when i didn't really feel like coming up with another picture or verse or word. that stuff doesn't always just effortlessly roll off the tongue or out of the computer ... sometimes, but not always. but this month of thanksgiving was motivating for me, nonetheless. and i knew, whether there were two or two hundred of you coming along, it was a good and necessary exercise for me. it was good for me to find the thoughts of thanksgiving even on the days when thanksgiving was not my first thought.

one thing this month of continuous posting taught me is that thanksgiving isn't just about feeling thankful, sometimes it's about preparing our hearts so that we can choose to be thankful. sometimes it's about saying the words in order to surrender the way. it's about deliberately preparing a path for praise. preparing.

and for those of you who are cooking the big meal tomorrow, you know all about preparation, right? it would be very challenging to run out last minute today and be fully ready for tomorrow. we all know what would happen if we threw a frozen turkey in our shopping cart on this wednesday with hopes of cooking it up on thursday. it doesn't work that way. and neither do we. we can't just show up at the table and hope for some really good thursday thanks to be ready in our hearts. maybe that will kinda work ... or maybe it kinda won't.

but whether we're whipping up a meal or whipping out some thankfulness it helps to be ready ... it helps to come prepared.

now, i'll admit, i'm not always the most prepared girl on the block. (some of you laugh). i forget items on my list. i forget my list. i even forget to make a list. this frustrates me (and a few other dear ones) to no end. growing up i had visions of how organized i'd be about things like holidays and the hoop-a-la that accompanies them. i grew up with dreams of everything being "just so" ... but rarely is it ever "just so." sometimes it is just so crazy or just so cuckoo or just so chaotic. but since i've given up a bit on the pursuit of the just-so-perfect, i have come to realize it is not really about the meal or the home or the hoop-a-la anyway, but about the heart. and though i've probably forgotten something on my list already today, i do hope, in this month, i haven't forgotten to prepare my heart.

not just for the meal tomorrow. but for the message of this continuous holiday season which kicks into full gear sometime in the midst of tomorrow. yes, i'm talking about christmas. the christmas message. have you ever thought about how the thanks-giving prepares us for the gift-giving?

since we're eating with friends tomorrow, i'm not preparing a big meal (hooray for me). but i will be bringing along one of our family traditions. my friend, diana, who is hosting, asked if we had any to share. now she might have been talking about a favorite dessert or potato dish, but i am bringing the tradition of putting a christmas ornament at everyone's place setting.

christmas ornaments on thanksgiving? yes!

i started this a few years ago with my family. i put an ornament by each place setting to remind us that thanksgiving must proceed gift-giving. we all know as soon as the turkey is taken out to the trash the mad scramble into christmas mode begins. some of us even have our trees in the garage ready to go. turkey out. tree in. it's like a funny holiday dance. we are quick to move on. i get it. i know why we feel like this. i understand the pressure of preparing. we, too, like to put up our tree the weekend after thanksgiving. and there's nothing wrong with that.

this christmas ornament on the thanksgiving table isn't intended to speed up that process, but to slow it down; to remind us to give the thanks before we get or give the gift. seem a little backwards? perhaps. but what if thanksgiving did come before gift-giving. wouldn't the giving be greater, sweeter, more beautiful if done with a heart of gratitude?

as we prepare our homes and transition from one holiday to another, let's continue to prepare our hearts. let's turn our attention toward december desiring to be fully in God's presence, keeping in mind that thanksgiving isn't over, but can continue to spill into this next season. the verse i put on this year's thanksgiving ornament is from psalm 95:2: "let us come into His presence with thanksgiving." we come into His presence. we come to adore Him. we come to give gifts. we come to worship the babe in the manger, but let it be our words of thanksgiving which help lead us into the worship of His holy presence.

because, honestly, is there any gift greater? any gift more worthy of our thanksgiving?

this ornament is a reminder that these two holidays aren't in opposition. they aren't fighting for the lime light, but are working together. collaborating. cooperating. making clear the message of Christ. it is because the Christ-child was born in that manger that we have real thanksgiving in our hearts.

oh friends, let's celebrate the season this week and next month ... let's prepare our tables. let's prepare our hearts. let's enter into His presence.

“let us come into His presence with thanksgiving.” 

~ psalm 95:2

{grace words: thanks * giving * prepare * gifts * His presence *}

dear Jesus, on this thanksgiving eve we long to come into your presence. in all of our holiday preparation help us to prepare our hearts for you. give us words to praise you and hearts that want to pursue you. teach us how to combine our thanks-giving and our gift-giving that we might truly know the blessing of all you've so freely given. amen.

Raising Secret Keepers {grace-words-wednesday} guest post!

today i have the pleasure of sharing with you a guest post from my friend, becky crenshaw.  typically we both write {grace words wednesday} posts. but today you are hearing from becky's heart -- and what a sweet heart it is! in this season of THANKSGIVING, we've been writing a lot about the "thanks" part. well, today becky writes about what happens when we step into the "giving" portion. 
thanks + giving = something beautiful. 

i know you'll enjoy her words! remember you can find becky over at her blog: the word of God and a cup of joe.

 * * * * * * * 

Saturday, I grabbed three yard rakes, three children and a large box of lawn bags and to the backyard we went.

Today was the day for the Autumn task of raking leaves.

Brent had gone camping so it was just the boys and me, plugging away one pile at a time, trying hard to rediscover what we once remembered as grass.  My boys grumbled and tried to sneak off, but there were no options for release.  

This Saturday we raked.

I pray for my boys to have a natural bend towards  servant-hood. But most days this prayer is one of faith - the hope of what is unseen.  

But this particular "today-we-rake" day, a glimmer of hope shone through the grumbles of my ten-year old's words.   He peered over the picket fence to the yard of our new-mommy-neighbor,  Mrs. Michelle. With a baby barely three-months-old, their lawn remained covered in leaves.  Yard work being a very low priority amongst so many mommy tasks.

"We should sneak in Mr. Joe and Mrs. Michelle's yard and rake up all of those leaves.  Then when they get home they'll say, 'Whoa!  Look at our yard!  Who did that!?'  And we can just pretend we didn't see a thing.  It will be epic!"

Ahh.  Jesus all but illuminated his precious face.  A moment we as mother's live for!  Oh Dear God, thank you! Something I am doing is right!

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. Matt 6:3-4

Normally I'm not in the business of sneaking in my neighbor's back yard or encouraging my children to keep secrets, but today I broke both rules.

This day we hop fences and serve ... in secret.

Serving is simple when recognition follows, but giving that is honorable in the sight of the Lord is done with an audience of only One.   Note: these words are typed from a woman who confesses many hand-on-the-hip moments with words like, "I work 'round here all day and rarely does anyone say, 'thank you'  or 'wow look at my clean underwear!' or 'you're the best mom!'  Nope...I'm just chopped liver 'round here....'" 

But in the upsidedown-ness of God's Kingdom, serving in secret reaps the richest reward.  We are created in God's image and therefore we desire adulation, but this deep longing of my heart to stand approved is truly satisfied by my Father who sees what is done in secret. 

He sees the baskets of laundry that rotate in and out of the wash.  He sees the dust bunnies swept from under the couch.  He knows you tweaked that recipe by a few ingredients.  He watched you sew that button on your husband's shirt and He knows how many times you have vacuumed rainbow loom bands off of your carpet. He sees it all.

And this "today-we-rake" Saturday, he knew the longing of my boys' hearts to rake the leaves of a new mom's yard.

This Kingdom truth motivates me as a wife.  The hustle and bustle of three kids leaves little room for gourmet meals

and candle lit dinners.  But a marriage that is {more than fine} is strengthened by our secret service.  It's ok if he doesn't notice you had the oil changed, or organized the garage.  It is ok if it takes him a day to recognize you raked the leaves in the backyard, ahem,  or put thought into making his favorite lunch.  But your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. 

Satisfaction runs deep in the heart of a wife who serves for no recognition or human praise, because her reward comes from above.

And last Saturday my boys experienced this adulation as they hurried to rake Mrs. Michelle's leaves, imagining her expression as she pulled the blinds to see the Sunday morning sky.  They received their reward in full from the Father.  Their audience of One.

Lord, let me be one who keeps secrets for Your Glory today.  Let my heart be that of a servant in my marriage and my motherhood.  Thank you that human praise is only skin deep but that Your approval of me is eternal. Thank you for giving me opportunities to serve you.  Let my day be jam-packed with giving done in secret and let me find satisfaction from knowing that you are pleased with your servant.  I give you great thanks knowing you  are the source of strength in my marriage. Father, today, strengthen me, strengthen my marriage by expecting less from others and all from you.  In Jesus Name, Amen.

{Grace Words Wednesday}

*Service   *Satisfaction  *Reward