A Memoir From Myanmar

This is your brain. This is your brain on...I don't know--hyperactivity? A little bit of crazy?
I am a runner. I wake up running. I run to make breakfast and get the kids ready and do laundry and try to get myself dressed. And that is in the first half hour of my day. I am not busier than others; I just do myself in trying to get as much done as is humanly possible. And then I have to talk to myself (yes, I know it's a problem), "Slow down...be still...remember that God shows Himself in a gentle whisper and not in the storm". Do you know how hard that is? So, as I'm leaping off the third stair from the bottom to make better time to the dryer, those are the words running through my head. But I keep running....
And so tonight, I sit down to read the words I wrote August 5, 2000 on my month long trip to Myanmar (Burma):

I slipped my shoes off and climbed up two small wooden stairs in to a one room bamboo hut. I was afraid I might fall through the floor as I could see through it and it felt like it might give way. There was one chair in the room where they had me sit like a queen--when all I really wanted to do is bury my head in shame. I wanted to cry because my clothes were clean and pressed and my hair had been washed with Pantene. There on the floor lay a man who had been paralyzed from possibly menonjitis or polio. He said he saw God in me and he was so thankful for my coming...I felt so full of shame. He wore a dirty shirt that may have once been white, a tattered blue jacket and a matching pair of pants. He was smaller than I was and he looked so frail. But we prayed and I pleaded with the Lord to heal his sickness. Through faith we can move mountains.
"Oh, I believe, Father, help me overcome my unbelief." Never have I felt this more strongly. Really, is it true what you say? Is it true that if I ask, I will receive? I want to believe so badly.
The man was curled up like a beaten child, but he held out his hands for some breath of hope. And I put my hands in his--probably more scared than he--a simple twenty-two year old girl who lives in a nice house with a nice truck and a closet full of clothes...and there he was in his little one room thatch hut curled up on the floor next to a couple of pots and pans.
I slipped off my shoes just expecting to walkl in to a room with a sick man...
I walked in to a freight train of emotions hurling me over. And I never knew that Jesus lived in the heart of a little man in a little hut full of hope and desperation.
The only thing I've learned on this trip to Myanmar is that I'm very young and I don't know anything. I don't know one iota what is to experience what many are experiencing. I don't know what it feels like not to be able to lift myself out of bed. I don't know what it feels like to be tested by God just to go to church, to have faith that He will provide rice to eat even if I don't work so that I can worship. I am so very blessed. And so very ignorant.


And I am still so very blessed---and so very ignorant. I forget to slow down. To listen. I allow my life to be turned in to a check list. But tonight, I remember. I remember not to take it all for granted. To go in and kiss my little girl on the forehead long after she is asleep. I remember to say thank you.

Back To School Stress

So, I've been getting stressed out about all of the paperwork coming home from the kids' school. I seriously had a stack about two inches thick! So here's what I decided to do:

I took a three ring binder and put in dividers labeled "school calendar", "To Return", "Super-boy", "Cindy-Lou Who", "Sports schedule" and "Miscellaneous". I may add more dividers as more papers come home. I am really hoping this will eliminate the stack on my bookshelf, kitchen table, and microwave cart. Does anyone else have a different/better suggestion?

This has caused me to wonder how moms do it. How do they stay organized? What about all of the stuff left over from last year? How about all of the crafts? I want my kids to have things to look at when they get older, but I don't want to be featured on "Hoarder's". So can you help me out with some school organization tips? Any and all are welcome!

The Love Song of My Life

I don't know which was worse: the fact that I had to do an entire shopping trip with chunky white spit up on either side of my shoulder and running down my dress or that my three year old peed all over the floor in aisle six. It's a toss-up, I guess. Oh, or the fact that my eight year old had a walkman hooked to his shorts and big headphones on listening to the Beatles. I'm sure we made plenty of people mumble in their heads last night. Nonetheless, we got our grocery shopping done and stayed sane enough to laugh about it. I haven't been keeping up with my blog as much as I'd like. Life has been getting in the way...this wonderfully chaotic life. But I am still counting my gifts daily. It reminds me that I am loved by God. Ann Voskamp talks about how each gift is God's way of saying, "I love you". The gentle breeze of the wind, the laughter of my children, a love song. Just a few of the things on my list: Little boy reading to himself~Clean kitchen table~Such loving friends~A morning at the park~Bird songs~Healed boo-boos~Music filling my ears~Kids playing in the backyard~Laughter coming in through the window~Yellow sunlight spilling in daughter's room~A walk in the fresh air~Encouraging words~Sleeping baby on my chest~The building of a life...

Same Crap, Different Day?

There has been little time where I'm not holding a certain, sweet baby lately and therefore, haven't been able to keep up with my blog as much as I'd like. I have, however, continued to count my gifts and am continually amazed at the goodness that surrounds when I look for it.

I was talking with someone the other day and when I asked him how he was doing he replied, "Same crap, different day, isn't that the way it is?" There are days when I do feel like it's Groundhog Day. I wake up and the Snoopy and the Red Baron song is filling up my house; I know it is another day. I make the coffee, change diapers (yes, we haven't quite gotten Dynamite potty-trained yet), take out the trash, etc. Same crap, different day. And yet, I know that each day comes with opportunity for renewal and growth. For learning new things. For becoming more whole. For finding more wonder...

Sleeping children~My neighbor getting milk from the store for me~A husband who listens~The kindness in others~Chubby cheeks~Clean, white sheets~3-year old belly laughs~Train ride through the Village~A day that feels like fall~Remembering sorrow and thanking God for healing~Hot steam rolling off my coffee in the early morning~The sound of crickets outside my window~Piles of laundry~A sink of dishes~A list a mile long~Lemonade stands...

A Leisurely Trip to the Farm

I decided to take the kids out to a local farm last Friday to buy produce. I have pretty much been staying at home as it is so hard to get out the door with four little ones--the youngest being only weeks old. However, I needed to get out and breathe some fresh air.

Generally, I hurry. I hurry to get breakfast done, then the dishes. I hurry to do chores, I hurry the kids. I race against no one but myself. But that morning, I thought, "If we do nothing else today, it's fine. And if it takes all day to get there and back, that's okay too. We are going to enjoy our day". Why don't I go about my day like this more often? It was lingering and wonderful!

Yes, it took two hours to get everyone ready. And yes, Ralphie needed to nurse on the way to the farm so we pulled over and listened to a book on cd. We went about our morning leisurely....soaking up each and every moment.

We picked out peaches, cherries and red potatoes fresh from the farm. As we headed toward the corn, Super-boy remarked, "This is the moment I've been waiting for!". I had no idea how exciting our trip to the farm market was for the kids.

The kids helped me shuck the corn with pure joy. As I peeled back the layers of husk to reveal the corn, I leaned down to Dynamite and whispered, "Surprise!". Super-boy looked at me and said, "Mom, he's a little too big for you to talk to him like that". I don't think we're ever to old to be talked to like that. And that is exactly what I felt in my heart as I chased joy with my kids. Surprise! Joy in the ordinary...

Often, finding joy is not effortless. It is a hunt for goodness, a force of the will to slow down and rest long.

G.K. Chesterton: "The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost."

I want to love the gift of life...each and every day. To let the knowledge that tomorrow is not guaranteed seep in and fill me with gratitude for the now.

My list of thanks continues:
Sweet hand on my arm at church~Celebrating life!~Four healthy kids~Ensalada Caprese~Friends who call on the phone~A trip to the grocery store with my family~Sweet smelling basil filling up my house~Dear friend holding baby boy~Sleeping children~Zucchini and cucumbers from the garden~Smell of candle burning...

Places I hide...

I've been pondering the ways I hide from living...truly living. Living in abundance, chasing joy. I get overwhelmed with the day-to-day--the bickering, the lunch-making, the laundry...all of these things grow tiresome and mundane. Ordinary. And I hide...
I hide behind the computer.
I hide behind sleep.
I hide on the telephone.
I hide behind food.
I hide in the quiet of my own head.
I hide behind anger.
I hide behind distrust in good.

When I try to escape from what I'm truly called to, it's never a pretty picture. But it's hard to be fully present. It's hard to accept that my kids are arguing again and I am called to calmly get down on my knees and teach them love and patience.
These vices do not help me to grow. They don't help those around me to grow. And in fact, they relinquish the God-given control I have as a mother and wife.
So right now, that's what I'm working on...being fully present. Engaging. Listening. Trusting that love and gratitude is so much more powerful than the things I hide behind.
What do you hide behind? Any suggestions on being more present, living life abundantly? Being a joy-chaser?
Thanks for reading, friends.

Things I'm thankful for:
A cool summer night~Writing letters~Pretty stamps~Cool breeze~Opening windows~Feeling good enough to walk to the park~A purple flower in a field of weeds~Husband smiling in the morning~Neighbor walking dog~Sunshine through my window...

When I stop giving thanks, the snake slithers in and flicks his tongue at me. He whispers lies and I believe them. I hear negativity and sadness. But when I choose to see beauty, to be thankful, I am filled with joy. How can that be? Something so simple, but such a difference.

My gratitude continues to grow...
A listening ear~beautiful hibiscus with deep red center~little girl imagination~determination~music~friends who "get it"~husband who helps me around the house~getting to sleep in...