One Thousand Gifts-Week 40

The rain started Friday night, on the way home from celebrating Shabbat, Beema's birthday and yet another uncle who had the dubious fortune of having his birthday land of Thanksgiving Day this year. By Saturday morning we were nearly drowning in wet. Then the hail started. But it hasn't rained in months, so we reveled in it. The kids ran out to play and came in to warm up over and over all day. They gathered up the hail where it lay in the grass. We lit candles, and made tea and hot chocolate. Oh, and set up a new, to us, computer that was a gift passed on from my BIL's girlfriend's family. (Got that?) Thank-you so much. It's great to be able to work in my own space again. Here's this week's list.

bowls of hail preserved in the freezer.

Piles of wet clothes near the door from playing outside in the rain.

Damp kids drinking hot chocolate.

Little singing a made up song, "Are you sleeping, little one? Are you sleeping..."

A balsam fir scented candle giving cozy light

The large gathering of friends and family around the table(s).

Caramel sauce.

My MIL's jalapeno bread stuffing.

a walk down a dirt road with old and treasured friends.

Sunset at the end of a long valley that reaches the sea.

The Boy throwing himself at me for a hug, repeatedly.

A long visit with someone that I expect will soon be family. I really like her.

Time with my big girl that I love, even if only for a little while.

The MIL and BIL who's birthdays we celebrated this week.

leftovers

The Thanksgiving tree covered with leaves after dinner, each with something to be thankful for written on it.

Sitting around in the sunshine with the whole family together after church.

Dinner by candlelight.

Watching Little try, over and over again, to blow out the candle at the end.

Little girls in pretty nightgowns twirling to strains of Haydn before bed.

The Girl's funny walk on a still asleep foot when she woke up this morning.

The gratitude community is here @ a holy experience.

The First Sunday of Advent

I've been planning to keep advent for most of the year, but last night I was putting together a wreath at just before midnight. (It crept up on me. I had no idea it started so soon after Thanksgiving.) Thankfully, Leila's post on making advent wreaths inspired me so I threw this together from what I had laying around. A few small glass candle holders, and a shot glass because I only had 3, to hold the candles. I wasn't sure whether to use a large bowl or this silver try I have, and ended up resting the tray on the bowl to add some height. Then I ran outside in the rain and cut sprigs off of the 3 plants growing closest to my front door. The ribbon was languishing in a closet somewhere. I picked up some pine cones this afternoon after church where they fall near our parking spot and Voila! It's actually quite pretty.

I laced together two long acacia branches to form an outside circle with a few twist ties and the ribbon. The rest is just sort of arranged in the center. It's not permanent at all. Before we lit them tonight I took out the white candles and used some taller red ones instead. I know they're not the right color, but it's what I have. The kids were enchanted and ate dinner by the light of the lone candle.

Then there was church this morning. I was excited, because I knew they were going to be celebrating advent this year and it was family Sunday so the kids would be in with us during the singing. Now you must understand that we attend a church that plays rock'n'roll type music during the singing and keeps very few traditions, so I wasn't expecting much. But people, I was very miffed at how the whole thing played out. Up at the front they had all the posters that the kids decorated last week with the different weeks of advent themes on them; hope, love, joy and peace. There had been a build up in their classes. We waited through all the songs. They didn't light the candle. We waited through the announcements, they didn't light the candle. Then they dismissed the kids to their classes and we waited through the whole freakin' sermon for them to light the candle already, which happened at the very end. Which so misses the point of having an advent wreath in the first place. Grr.

I'm so sad because they missed such an opportunity to teach. It's like no one understands how kids learn. The pastor's wife even stood up there during communion and talked about how God told the children of Israel to keep passover and when their children ask why they do it to tell them, and that we should do the same when we take communion and our children ask why we do it. All the time she is saying this there is AN ADVENT WREATH BEHIND HER, that a lot of the kids have never seen, and wonder why it's there and what it's about, and they say nothing about it while the children are in the room! The mind boggles at the missed opportunities. Fortunately, I don't depend on them to teach my children anything so I was only miffed, and I got over it.

Hannah was supposed to be teaching Sunday school for second service. It's a hard job because there is such a mix of ages in there. This week, due to some oversight, she had no curriculum to work with so while we talked about what she could do I sort of jumped on the advent theme, duh! I read to the kids about the angel coming to Zechariah and Mary, and then we made advent calendars. (Full disclosure: I didn't even think about advent calendars until last night, and I was kicking myself for not getting one for the kids to do. So this craft may have been slightly self serving.) I think it's really cool.

For every day between now and Christmas eve we pasted in the number of candles that would be lit on the wreath with construction paper. Each day the kids are to draw a flame on the candles in that days box to mark the time. I think it's pretty cute. And if you are behind like I am on these things, it's also got the benefit of being another thing you can throw together with the stuff you have on hand, like we did.

It was easy to do, the kids can count down, and it really brings home the idea of the light increasing as the time draws near.

Thanksgiving in the Slum-Updated

I'm putting this one here at the top again for today as I run around and bake and finish painting and make a Thanksgiving tree with my kids just in case some people missed it. It helps me as I run around baking, making candied orange peels, gluten free chocolate cookies for my FIL and SIL, and try to finish a million projects to remember how blessed I am to have these things to do and work on, unlike most.



Thank-you so much for your donations so far. When I told my MIL how much had come in she was only half joking when she said, "At this rate they're going to be able to move out of the slum." It will be a huge blessing to this sweet family when they receive what you have given.


 ps. Our version of a Thanksgiving tree is really simple, and good for the last minute people like me. Stick a branch in a pot and anchor it with dirt or pebbles. Cut out paper into leaf shapes. This year we are using scrap book paper so it looks really cute and patchwork quilt like. Leave a few leaves on everyone's plate at the Thanksgiving table with a ribbon or piece of yarn attached. Every writes a few things they are thankful for and ties their leaves onto the tree before the meal starts.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.



original post*************


 Sometimes I'm just really happy that this is the family I got when I married Aaron.

This was in my inbox last week from my MIL.

We've all heard and some of us have seen, that even if we have to check under the couch cushions for gas money, we are still better off than the rest of the world. We have MUCH to be thankful for. This year we are taking the opportunity to spread our thanks to the other side of the world.

There is a family I know who live in one of the slums of Visak in India. One of their daughters has been blessed to live and study at Grace Life kid's hostels. Her name is Usha and she is a beautiful teenage lover of Jesus. The last time I was there, her family asked if I would come to their home and walk through the slum to their relative's home to pray for their nephew who lay paralyzed from the chest down from falling off a 3rd story roof. I did and I hope I never forget the honor it was being invited into such a situation.

Usha's parents and young siblings are literal, glowing lights in the darkness of the demonic and Hindu slum they live in. Their hut seems to shine at the end of a long, dark tunnel, but it's some kind of spiritual optical illusion. The path, under the open sky and a few overhanging branches is in full light of day, while their hut is so dark they have to guide me in. A filtered light falls from the smoke hole in the back room they've designated as the 'kitchen'. Their beds are a piece of dirty fabric on the concrete slab they are so happy to have under part of their plank and metal sheeting home. A fan hangs from the ceiling of the little room where everyone sleeps. It's wires threaten to strangle me. The blade hits my head even though I'm already stooping. But this family sparkles with joy.

Usha's little sister was born prematurely and suffers from seizures and is "different". Her mother hip holds her 4 year old frame and asks me to pray for her, but before I can open my mouth, the little girl reaches out and touches my chest and then my head, while looking steadily, lovingly into my eyes, and speaks words that might be Hindi or Telegu or some construction of her own and I receive the purest, straight from Jesus, blessing ever. Not because it was sweet having a little kid 'bless' me, but because it was the purest, straight from Jesus, blessing ever. She did it to me twice and I was nearly undone by the deep joy that filled me. And then there was outright laughing when I asked what her name was and they said it was Blessy.

It is very easy to see the Kingdom of God in this slum. The Light is life radiating out of and around this family. The path that leads to their little home is a gauntlet of dark, heavy, empty eyed families spilling out of their huts. There is no light in the eyes that stare back at me. Not even a glimmer.

Jesus said it is more blessed to give than receive. I want us to thank Him for that dynamic this Thanksgiving and get in on that blessing by collecting our extras for Usha's family as they love and follow Jesus in this visibly dark and demonic place. I want them to know that the family of God is proud of them and 'with' them and willing to share what they have with them. I'm not asking for a lot, just the extras that can be collected during this month leading up to Thanksgiving. The pennies and dimes you see on the street. The change you find under the cushions. The coins that fill up the little compartments in your dash, on your dresser, in the bottom of your purse. Bring it on Thanksgiving and I will send it to Kell Frandsen of Grace Life Ministries to deliver to Usha's family.

To be honest. I haven't got very much spare change at all this month. Several weeks without paying work tends to do that to a family. Sometimes I like to think I'm exempt from these things because of all the work and sacrifice we already do to help people. But the truth is that I still have way more, that I don't really need, when I'm honest with myself. I can afford to give something.

For people who live on less than a dollar a day even $5 is a huge gift.

I've set up a donate button for Usha's family. It occurred to me that some of you might like the chance to pitch in your pocket change as well. So I asked her if I could post her letter here. I have learned to see an opportunity to give as a gift in itself, that I need to give to people. Some of you taught me that, when you wrote to thank me for giving you a chance to help in a meaningful way when we started The Charis Project. So here you go.

Busy with paint over here

I'm painting a chair today, doing some hemming for my neighbor, and going out to buy the Girl another pair of shoes because her feet just won't stop growing, and she has exactly one pair of running shoes left that fit. She wants something to wear with dresses too.

So in lieu of an actual post I will send you off to read some stuff I posted last week that you may have missed.

At the voice, the charis project blog, I wrote about the realities of running an orphanage.

It was the year 2001, we had been married less than a year and we were at the Door of Faith Orphanage in Mexico talking to DJ and Lynette, the couple who run the whole place. A month earlier we made the choice together that someday, somehow, we wanted to take care of kids who had no one, in a long term meaningful way. Of course, the first thing we thought of was an orphanage. We were there to learn.
I will never forget what DJ said that day.
“The truth is,” he said, “I spend most of my days fund raising, trying to raise enough money to keep this whole thing going. We hire people to take care of the kids, because we don’t have the time.”

 To read the rest click through.

At the real food revolution I wonder why anyone would make green been casserole.
Not Green Bean Casserole
I also provide a recipe for a much better tasting alternative, Garlic and Chili Green Beans

Oh, and I also pondered the role of forgetfulness in weight gain. Just One

One Thousand Gifts-Week 39

Glorious golden tousled curls, bouncing as she laughs.

Boy laughing and making silly faces.

The little bit of a lisp when he's laughing and talking because of missing front teeth.

the homey smell of turkey broth simmering.

peanut butter trails in the honey remind me that the Girl made lunch for everyone today. All by herself.

Aaron walked in the door with lilies at the end of a long sad day last week.

Notebooks, bubble bath, and a bundle of decorative kale from my Milly.

The look the Boy gets on his face when he's saying something odd and funny.

the freshness of the air on my morning walk.

A night at Beema's house for all the kids, and a restaurant gift certificate from a friend for Aaron and me to enjoy together without them.

The way her eyelashes curl.

The Girl's crazy stories.

Little's stunning eyes.

Beautiful friends who send thoughtful gifts, and emails.

Hannah will be able come for part of Thanksgiving.

I am a complete failure

We are on our way to the laundry room. The girl lingers at the door, clearly ready to make a bolt for the playground.

"Come," I call. "Come with me to the laundry room."

"I don't want to," she replies and runs off to the playground.

Naturally this is unacceptable behavior. Blatant disregard for directions usually is. There are consequences for such things.

A few minutes later we are talking about it.

"I said come, you didn't come, you chose to disobey."

"But mommy," she argues tearfully, "I told you I didn't want to."

blink...

um...

Let's try this again.

"When I say to do something it's your job to do it, even if you don't want to. That's what it means to obey. You do it because I said so, not because you want to. After you obey you have the choice to ask if you may do something else."

That's pretty clear, right?

"But I didn't want to, I told you I didn't want to before I ran away."

As if that makes it all better.

I think she really expects me to say, "Oh sweetie, I didn't know you didn't want to. Well that changes things then. You feel free to run off and do whatever you want whenever you feel like it."

Obviously she hasn't understood a word I have said in the past 6 years of her life.

I guess I have my work cut out for me.

Sigh.

Remember Who You Are

I finished reading The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis to the kids this week.

(If you have never read it or the accompanying books in the Chronicles of Narnia series you should stop now, drop everything, go out and buy the books and read them all this month. They are very worth the time, and really great to read aloud to kids as well.)

I have no idea how many times I have read this book before. Many.

I noticed something this time through that I don't remember noticing before.

The villain of the story is a witch. Her primary power is her ability to make people forget; who they are, where they're from, and what they are supposed to be doing.

We see it first when the children encounter her on the moor. By the time they are finished talking to her all they can think about is their own comfort; warm beds, hot baths, and getting in out of the cold. So strong does this idea become in their minds that they almost completely forget that they are on a quest, miss the signs they are supposed to follow and find themselves in grave danger as well.

The earth men she causes to forget all about their homeland, to believe that there is nothing else for them but to toil in her service day after day.

Prince Rillian's enchantment is the most sinister of all. For 10 years she keeps him with her, and he is devoted to her, thinking her his rescuer, and benefactor. She plans to invade the country that he is already prince of and rule it by force through him. Essentially, controlling him and so controlling what is rightfully his to begin with. During the hour a day that he does remember she keeps him bound, and powerless, until he forgets once more.

There is nothing like a good story to get at a fundamental truth in a way that is approachable.

For that is what happens to us all the time. We forget who we are. We forget where we are from. We forget what we are supposed to be doing. Some of us never even knew to begin with, which is the greatest tragedy of all.

We end up filling our time and days with things that don't matter, distract and are dangerous. The relationship we have to our lives, our vocation, our sphere of influence becomes distorted and wrong. Instead of a blessing, they become a curse.

All because we don't remember who we really are, where we are really from, or what we're really supposed to be doing.

In fact, we're all like the prince. We're children of the king, heirs to a glorious kingdom, and tasked with the work of nurturing and caring for those in it. Ours is meant to be a large and glorious life. But if we fall under enchantment and forget that, we are merely puppets, cheerless miserable puppets with very small lives. Or worse, tyrants, abusing our power over those we are charged to care for.

for you were formerly darkness, but now you are Light in the Lord; walk as children of Light... Awake oh sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ shall shine his Light on you. (Eph.5)

We need to remember. We need to be set free. We need to find our way out of darkness into the light of the sun. But we are not alone. One who didn't forget and never succumbed to enchantment has come to shine his Light on us, rescue us and show us the way.