eclipse

woke up this morning
harsh light
half light
crescents revealed in the shadows
created out of darkness

woke up this morning
harsh life
half life
secrets revealed in the shadows
created out of darkness

can this be enough for life
this light has been overcome
eclipse
this light has been overcome
darkness
this light has been overcome
eclipse

there must be a way, I know there’s a way

woke up this morning
missing the light
something is off
crescents dancing in the shadows

woke up this morning
missing our life
something is off
secrets dancing in the shadows

we take the light for granted
we take our life for granted
till how we knew it

is gone.

Eclipse.

I wrote these lyrics about six weeks ago when there was an eclipse here in Spain. I didn't know there was an eclipse when I woke up, but I definitely noticed that things were off. There were too many shadows across our back porch, and there was this harsh brash look to everything outside. I took a walk and wondered how the ecology of our planet would be affected if this reduced amount was the normal amount of light we received from the sun. Which things would die off and which would be OK? What would the plants look like? Would it be enough light for life?


When I was walking through a park I remembered something from Mr. Grossenbacher's 11th grade physics class - that the leaves on trees act like pinhole cameras and project the image of the sun on the ground. Normally it's a bunch of circles, but during an eclipse there are millions of crescent shapes dancing all over the ground. It's magnificent. Walking around that morning, in such an odd light that made everything look and feel edgier made me start thinking about what a great metaphor an eclipse is for those moments that forever alter your life. There's this new light, this new filter through which you view everything. You want to go back but you can't and you wonder if there's even enough light going around to survive.

So I dressed up fro Halloween too even if it was only for 5 minutes and it was one of Abigail's costumes . . .

Trusting. . .

During my trip to Ireland I got to do something that travelers with toddlers don't usually get to do - I read a book.

Not having to worry about snacks and naps and diapers and blankies and binkies and ositos and strollers - not to mention the actual children - really freed up a lot of time while I was journeying. So, I read a book.

I hadn't ever read anything by Brennan Manning, and for years I've heard good things about his stuff, so I asked the Baileys if I could borrow a book by this author. They picked out and lent me Ruthless Trust. Not sure whether they know this or not about me, but one of the things I've continually struggled with over the years is really trusting God, so this book spoke to me from the first.

Several ideas were very refreshing and challenging to me. One is the idea that trust is rooted in thankfulness in all circumstances. Not just being thankful for sunny days and pay raises, but being thankful even in the midst of gloomy days and layoffs - and worse. The message of this book isn't a trite version of "trust God and he'll bless you with lots of good stuff." It deals with trusting and being thankful in the midst of the unthinkable kinds of tragedies that surround us everyday.

Another is the idea of living in and truly appreciating the moment - the now and here. I know my mind is constantly racing back and forth between what's just happened and what I'm planning for the future so that often I miss the amazing joys of right now. This isn't to say that we should be irresponsible and never remember or plan for anything, but that we don't always have to be so distracted.

Both of these have been hugely challenging to me especially in my relationship with Abigail and Isa. You always hear empty nesters saying something to the effect of, "Enjoy them now, they grow up so fast." I don't want the challenge of parenting on not much sleep cloud my days with grumpiness and anger. I want to be thankful for the spilled milk, crumbs on the floor, and interruptions of my sleep because they're paired with slobbery kisses, fierce hugs, and laughter like you wouldn't believe. I don't want my girls experiencing a mama who's mostly grumpy and annoyed, but one who's mostly joyful.

May God give me grace in this and help me to live joyfully and thankfully and to trust him and his plans.

Portaferry

Here I am with Belen in Portaferry. If you want to see more pics and read more about the trip check out my Portaferry blog.

Going to Ireland

Tomorrow I'm flying off to Portaferry, Northern Ireland where I'll get to spend the weekend with my good friend Belén from Santiago. She worked at Terra Nova until she got a six month internship in marine biology in Portaferry. When she was in Santiago she was my swimming buddy and we had a lot of laughs together. So I'm really hoping this weekend that we can catch up a bit and have a great time hanging out.

Map of Portaferry, County Down GB

I get back in on Monday. While I am so excited about my trip, I am also a bit nervous. I haven't traveled alone since college and while I usually take care of the details when our family travels, this time I won't have any backup. I think I'm most nervous about being away from the girls. Yes, I know it's only three nights, but it still feels like a lot. I know they'll be fine with Matt and that I'll be fine once I'm moving. It also doesn't help that I've been battling a cold all week. Anyway, next time I post hopefully I'll have some gorgeous pictures to share.

Chinese Church

I am rereading The Heavenly Man by Paul Hattaway. It's the account of Chinese pastor Brother Yun's experience of living and serving and sacrificing for the Lord in China. This is the second time I've read it, and let me tell you, it is breathtaking, shocking, horrifying, and incredibly miraculous all at the same time. I get used to God working in a certain, restrained, conservative way and then I read about the miracles and persecution in today's Chinese church and I'm reminded that God is way bigger than the limits my perceptions put on him.

You should check this book out.

A verse to cling to. . .

. . . for mothers of young children:

I lie down and sleep;
I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.
Psalm 2:5

I constantly need to remind myself that the Lord is the one who sustains me (especially when I desperately need more sleep and the girls desperately need a mom who is not a walking time bomb.)

Fofa

It all started last year with a conversation I had with my neighbor. Isa was only 7 or 8 months old at the time, and Gloria commented that I was thin for realtively recently having a baby. I agreed that I might be thinnish but that I was not in shape. I didn't know the spanish word for flabby or jiggly, so I was trying to describe this state to her when all of a sudden she got it and said, "Fofa!" Even though I'd never heard the word, I instantly knew what it meant just from the sound of it: fofa - "spongy, soft, and of little conststency." That was me. That night I declared to Matt that I was fofa and that I would like to join a gym as soon as possible.

Well, as soon as possible turned out to be three weeks ago, so I've been trying out the various classes they offer until they put up the giant tent over the pool for winter. Tonight I went to my first class of Body Step (in spanish it's pronounced Bo-dee eh-Step). I've been going to a strength training class, but tonight I decided to change it up a bit with something more aerobically challenging.

Of course all of the best spots (i.e. in the back and far from the doorway) were taken and I was left with one sort of in the back but directly opposite the instructor. About 35 seconds into the first song my body quickly reminded me that I am not a coordinated person. About 45 seconds into the first song I realized that my sports bra was failing. So less than a minute into the class, I'm directly across from this peppy instructor who probably has his own video series and overwhelmed with the realization that: 1. I'm going to have to try SO HARD over the next 54 minutes not to trip, and 2. my boobs are going to be bouncing all over the place practically the whole time. Oh God help me.

I sort of faked it through the first three songs with my arms flexed and near my chest. This was good because they covered up all the extraneous bouncing and because I really didn't need any other distractions from trying not to trip.

I was more or less keeping up. By the time I learned a step the instructor would switch to the other leg or something new altogether. This was fine because after a few classes muscle memory will kick in, and I won't have such a hard time with the whole coordination thing. Maybe in a few months I might even be able to try arms.

But on the next song out came our instructor's jazz hands. Yes, not only is he in incredible shape, coordinated enough to do both foot and arm motions, but he was smiling and had jazz hands. I think it was during this song that he noticed that I was not doing the arm motions. He looked at me and said, "Amino! Animo!" which basically means, "Come on, you can do it!" Maybe I would have tried the arm stuff had it not been for the failed sports bra, but even if I hadn't been bouncing all over the place, there was no way that I was going to go for jazz hands. I was in an aerobics class, not a musical!

Somehow I survived. I was drenched in sweat by the end of class, so I must have accomplished something aerobic. I think probably tomorrow I'll go back to the strength training class. Very simple motions and it's either your legs or your arms - never both. Sounds good to me until the pool opens back up.

summer is ending. . .

The girls and I sitting in Quintana in the fog

Wiped Out

I remember this last year too. The first week of school is completely exhausting for me.

We're all getting up earlier and we're out and about way sooner than we ever are when it's just up to me to get moving. We're on our way to school at the same time when I'm usually still sipping my coffee in my PJ's with thoughts of getting dressed and out the door far from my consciousness. I know I'll get into the groove sooner or later, but for now when the girls take a nap after lunch, I do too!

Despite the getting up early (in Spanish there's a whole word for getting up early - madrugar) the girls are doing well with the school routine. Isa loves her alone time with Matt and I, and Abigail loves her social time with all the kids at school.

resolutions. . . checking in

1. Finish Abigail's "Baby's First Year" scrapbook (yes, I know, she's 3 1/2)

2. Start Isa's "Baby's First Year" scrapbook and finish at least six months worth
I haven't done any scrapbooking at all. I hoping that I'll be more motivated to do this when the rainy weather settles in.

3. Finish reading the Harry Potter series in Spanish (it's fun and I build my vocab with cool words like "potion" and "enchanted")
Last week I finished book 5. I'm now waiting for our library to get the latest one in.

4. Eat fish at least once a week
We've done OK on this one. More like twice a month than once a week, but it's a start. And last week, the Stribs came over and Scott smoked a salmon on our grill on top of a cedar plank. Now I could eat fish like that every day!

5. Work at least once a week in the café
I've taken over one of Matt's shifts a week and this has been great. I love being in the café, talking to people, serving people, getting to know the staff better. It's fantastic.

6. Keep a regular prayer journal
slightly irregular

7. Keep my email inbox cleaned out by responding promptly
Not doing so hot. I have 6 unread out of the 34 in my inbox. It's a mess.

8. Play more with the girls
This has been fun. Abigail is into making crowns out of construction paper so she and all of her friends can be princes and princesses. Isa also loves to read books with me.

July 9th resolutions

As hard as it was saying goodbye to so many friends and family in Lancaster, it's good to be back in SdC. (You know, often I selfishly wish that all the people we love so much could just move with me wherever I am so that I don't ever have to miss anyone, but then God reminds me that one benefit of his church is that we have family wherever we are.)

I feel refreshed and ready to begin again with renewed energy, ideas, and excitement. Now I know that it's not Jan 1 or the start of a new school year, but for me it feels like a new year so I thought I'd write a few resolutions: In no particular order:

1. Finish Abigail's "Baby's First Year" scrapbook (yes, I know, she's 3 1/2)

2. Start Isa's "Baby's First Year" scrapbook and finish at least six months worth

3. Finish reading the Harry Potter series in Spanish (it's fun and I build my vocab with cool words like "potion" and "enchanted")

4. Eat fish at least once a week

5. Work at least once a week in the café

6. Keep a regular prayer journal

7. Keep my email inbox cleaned out by responding promptly

8. Play more with the girls

I'm sure I'll want to add/edit these as things move along, but for now it seems like a good start. This trip turned out to be timed well for us. We were crazy busy right before we left and got a lot of things taken care of, so now after a good break I want to dive right in again - with the café, with the ministry, with life here.

Islas Cíes

This weekend Matt and I are getting away for a long weekend (alone!) for the first time in almost two years. The girls are staying with some wonderful friends and we're spending a couple of nights in a cute little hotel in Vigo and on Sunday we get to take a ferry to Las Islas Cíes off the coast from Vigo. It's supposed to be warm this weekend, and las Cíes are a national park with trails and great beaches. Yippee! I can't wait. It will be so nice to get out of town and be just the two of us again.

One of those mornings...

Sometimes you just have one of those mornings where if you don't laugh, you'll just cry...


Matt was up before the rest of us so he could go work the morning shift at the café, so that meant that today's my day to get the girls fed and dressed and out the door by 9:30 to get Abigail to school on time. Sometimes this proves to be a bit difficult, but this monring, there wasn't anything really out of the ordinary until we stepped out the door.


It's about a 12 minute walk to her school with kiddos in tow, and mind you that today it was drizzling. Isa's peeking out from under the plastic covering her three-wheeled stroller; I'm pushing it with one hand, have garbage in the other, and Abigail is holding onto the frame of the stroller. Right after I toss the trash into the dumpster, Abigail trips and lands on one knee in a mud puddle. Knowing there aren't any clean clothes at home, I do my best to wipe her off and calm her down - she's crying hysterically.


After she settles down a bit, we continue on for another three yards, and she starts crying again. I look over to see that she's puked up a bunch of snot that she's swallowed when crying earlier. Once again, I pull out the wet-wipes and clean her up and calm her down. Finally we're on our way.


Not really. About halfway to the school the stroller starts pulling fiercely to the left. After a bit of investigation, I see that a pin has fallen out and the seat of the stroller has separated from the frame and is threatening to come off completely (yes, Isa is still in the stroller.) So, I push Isa on the back two wheels of the stroller the rest of the way to school. Strollers doing wheelies aren't too common, so I get quite a few looks on the way.



After dropping Abigail off, I leave the stroller at school and carry Isa through the drizzle back home. By this point I'm exhausted.


Now after a cup of tea, I think I might be a bit more inclined to laugh than to cry.

You know you're the mother of toddlers when...

. . . you get up from the table (of adults) and excuse yourself by saying, "I have to go pee-pees."

and yes, I really did say that

dayenu

Saturday night we celebrated a Seder dinner at the Stribs house. It was the fourth time I've ever celebrated a Passover dinner, but Saturday night spoke to me more than any other year. At one point in the meal everyone at the table reads a long list of miracles that God performed for the Israelites like providing manna every day, appearing in a cloud by day and fire by night, parting the red sea, providing clothing, etc. And after reading each miracle, everyone at the table says, "dayenu," which means "it would have been suficient."


It would have been sufficient if God had only spared us from the plagues.


It would have been sufficient if God had only parted the Red Sea and let us escape the slavery of the Egyptians.


It would have been sufficient if God had only provided manna every day to eat in the desert.


It would have been sufficient if God had only appeared in the cloud and in the fire.


This is totally the attitude we should have toward God.


God, it should be sufficient to be married to an incredible guy. God, it should be sufficient to have healthy children. God, it should be sufficient to actually enjoy the work that we do.


Unfortunately, it's not. It wasn't sufficient for the Israelites to witness those amazing incredible miracles that God did every day - in their midst. No, the same morning that manna appeared for breakfast, Moses goes up to the mountain top to actually converse with God and at the foot of the mountain the Israelites are dancing around praising the likes of a golden calf.


Every day God was among them performing miracle after miracle and still they threw it right back at him. I look back and often think how could they miss it? I like to tell myself that if I didn't have to cook and food just appeared everyday ready to eat in the fridge that I wouldn't ever doubt God again. But then reality hits and I know that I'm just the same as the Israelites. I've been reading Philip Yancey's Disappointment with God this week and I see that there are circumstances in my life where I've pretty much given up on God. There are some things that I'm still hopeful about - my kids, my mariage, our work. In these things I see God working and I have hope.


But there are other places and other situations that I used to pray about a lot that I don't even pray about any more. I think I've in a way resigned myself that this is the way things are and that's the way things will always be for those situations. Even though I know that God is way bigger than any of these problems and that in a word any one of those situations could be healed and more amazing than I could imagine, deep down I think I've just about given up.


Now this is going to sound terrible, but I think it's probably easier for me to not think about those things and not pray about them because when nothing happens then it's still on me. That's OK. But what happens when I'm praying and praying about something and nothing happens? That's when the really scary questions start.


Reading in the book about whether or not God is unfair or hidden or silent is one thing. Putting those questions into the context of my own life and my own experience is a completely different thing. I'll let you know as I get farther into the book how things pan out.


By the way, the ciamelletti turned out great.

ciamelletti

Ever since we moved to Spain, every year at Easter we've celebrated with some Italian traditions brought to us by our good friends the Hanlons. Last summer they moved back to the states, and Anita gave us her family recipes only after we promised to make them only at Eastertime. (Don't worry Anita - I'm not about to post the recipe online!)

I inherited ciamelletti - ring shaped cookies flavored with anisette that are great with coffee. I googled them and got absolutely no results - except for, "Did you mean ciampelletti?" so I'm really on my own with this one. I'm about to attempt them this morning, so we'll see how it goes.

Today my skin smells like chlorine

Today my skin smells like chlorine.


I love it.


Yesterday I got to go to the pool with my friend Belén. I haven't been to a pool to swim laps since I was big and pregnant with Abigail three years ago. I didn't realize how much I had missed it.


Even though I am not in swimming shape I still had a blast. After only 150 meters, I had to stop for a break b/c my lungs were heaving. This from a girl who swam about 5000 meters every day in college. Wow. Good thing coach wasn't there to see...


Anyway after a bit, I got into a groove and it was magnificent. The pool is a place where I can just move and get my body going and my mind can just wander. While my body is working and the endorphins are pumping, my mind relaxes. The pool has always been a place of much prayer for me. I get so many of my thoughts sorted out while I'm going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. I know it sounds tremendously boring, but it is so far from it! If I'm frazzled and stressed and at my wit's end, swimming helps me so much. I think I decided yesterday that it won't be another three years before I go back.

You know you're the mother of toddlers when. . .

. . . you've walked several blocks before you realize that the song going through your head is called "Happy Tapping with Elmo"

. . . you start to peel your own apple

. . . you automatically get out the ketchup with any new food

. . . you're having coffee with a girlfriend and, "Are you ready to go bye-bye?" almost rolls off your tongue

Too much caffeine, not enough sleep

My first post on this blog. I've been blogging about my girls, but lately I've been wanting a place to jot down some of my own thoughts. So here goes...

Isa is currently napping. She has not been sleeping well the past few nights (read Lori and Matt have not been sleeping well the past few nights) because she's either coming down with a cold or teething again or all of the above. Fun fun fun.

Isa's first birthday was on the 11th. Really, we hadn't hosted a kiddo birthday bash since Abigail turned one. (For Abi's 2nd birthday we were in the throes of newborn-ness with Isa being just a month old, so we had a simple immediate-family party.) People who know me know that I love parties and celebrating - pretty much any excuse to call together the people we love and celebrate. So I kicked it into high gear for Isa's party.

Matt will tell you that while I love having parties, the organization of them all usually stresses me out to some degree. Isa's party was no exception, but I have definitely made progress since Thanksgiving '04 when during one of several meltdowns that day over minute details like pie crust Matt told me that if I couldn't pull it together we would never host Thanksgiving again.

In the end, we had a great time. But the next day while returning from DIA, the neighborhood grocery store, I had a realization that I have taken on another of my Mom's quirks. I had forgotten one of Isa's birthday presents that was hidden up and away in my closet. Suddenly I was flooded with a whole bunch of memories from childhood. Growing up for Eric (my brother) and I it was practically a holiday/birthday tradition that anywhere from a few days to a few weeks after the event Mom would find one of us and say, "Look what I found in the closet/under the bed/in the garage. I had totally forgotten that I had this for you," and hand us some sort of shopping bag with some kind of gift in it. It was kind of fun because just when we thought that Christmas/our birthday/graduation/etc. was over, we were surprised by one more gift.

So, I did the same for Isa. The next day after breakfast, I pulled out the Elmo doll that sings the Sesame Street theme song in both English and Spanish that had been sent to her from the states and told her, "Look honey, look what I found up in Mama's closet. I had totally forgotten that we had this for you," and handed her that doll. Hopefully this trait will be one that endears me to my kids as it did my mom to me.