Painful Living

A couple of weeks ago I had to make a trip to a local pharmacy. My prescription wasn’t quite ready yet so the kids and I sat in the waiting area where the only other occupant was a big, tough-looking man. The man started looking at Malachi with a soft expression on his face and commented on how cute Malachi was (I agreed with him, of course) and then went on to say that his son was about Malachi’s age when he passed away. I was stunned. I asked him how his son had died. The man said that the baby’s mother had propped a bottle in his mouth and he had drowned in his own formula. A call from the front desk announced that the man’s prescription was ready and he got up and left. I had walked into this building just hoping to pick up my medicine and I left laden with grief.

I was driving through the city of Erie doing some errands and I see in a nearby house a small banner hanging in the window with a single star on it. Someone had left this house to fight in a war and had never returned.

I log on to Juno to check my email and I see the headlines telling me the death toll from the latest bombing in some part of the world.

I’ve watched the people I love get sick, decay and die. And I‘ve known the heartache of losing a precious baby.

I remember a woman, many years ago, telling me her thoughts on Heaven. She said that she didn’t understand much about Heaven and so she was content to enjoy living here on earth and not worry about Heaven right now.
I wish I could ask her: What earth do you live on?

Christians, we cannot afford to live in a fairy tale. This world is full of grief, pain, hatred and despair. Accept that fact. Do not hide from it or become hardened to it. Now go to this fallen world and give to them the only thing that can bring hope in this darkness- Jesus.

A Review

While my crazy out-of-town relatives were visiting I got to enjoy the experience of playing Polaris for the first time. I can honestly say that it is the best role-playing game that I have ever played. I don’t claim to be a great RPG connoisseur, but I am a creative person who loves being a part of a good story and that’s exactly what Polaris gave me.

The thing about Polaris is that the system is never a distraction, but rather a marvelous tool to use to create intriguing characters and an intricate story. Instead of there being one all powerful GM, each player has ample opportunity and is, in fact, forced to contribute to the developing plot. Even during character generation all the players have an influence on everyone else’s character sheet.

I’ve never been one to enjoy dragon slaying and cool special effects so my characters have always been the more mellow, innocent-turning-to-evil types so this game was perfect for me in that it is possible to run a full story all the way through without lots of blood and guts and other unseemly things (except demon possession, that is.) On the other hand, Seth, the game geek, was itching for a good brawl or two so when we played together we had explosions and sword fighting in the opening scene. And yet, I still loved it!

I’m not going to get into technical talk about the system, or art work, etc. If you want technical talk about this go to Seth.

All I’ve got left to say about this game is that whether you like the dramatic and romantic stories or if your tastes run more toward exploding lemmings and demon possession- you’ll like this game.

No More Goodbyes

My crazy week is finally coming to a close. I actually have some breathing time and I can make dinner now without tripping over a half a dozen kids. And I'm all bummed out about it. As crazy and chaotic as life has been here this last week I'm disapointed it's over. I suppose it would be easier to let go of all the chaos if I didn't like all those people so much.
I liked having my family mostly together for a brief period of time. I liked being an on-location aunt again (a stressed out on-location aunt, that is) and I loved being with my friends again. Yes, my siblings (that includes siblings-in-law, too) are my friends and frankly, when they leave to go back to their homes I'm lonely.
I think I have one, maybe two people that I'd call a friend that isn't related to me, but really my family is my friends and they live so far away.
Yesterday I was sporadically sobbing for short periods of time throughout the day (pregnant + over-tired= emotional woman) so naturally my thoughts were turned toward Heaven. In Heaven I'll never have to say goodbye to anyone- ever again. No more goodbyes. Can you imagine it?
Even though it was chaotic and at times stressful, having my family here in Erie was a picture of Heaven for me and saying goodbye to them was a picture of death. But death and goodbyes is exactly what Jesus died to save us from.
Someday we won't have to say goodbye anymore. Until then I'll keep enjoying these little tastes of Heaven here on earth.
I love you, my family. Thanks for being my friends.

Countdown to Chaos

Tomorrow the semi-quiet that I am enjoying now will be temporarily lost as our household will expand from four people to an even dozen. It’s not so much the number of people that’s freaking me out, but it’s the fact that we’ll have twelve people here, several of whom are curious toddlers/ babies, while trying to pull together a family reunion (did I mention that will be held at my house, too?) and during the whole of this I will be valiantly trying to not vomit on anyone as my morning sickness continues. Oh , and did I mention that Joshua is in the middle of a big, stress-inducing project at work?
I’m thinking it’s going to work out well, though. Half my houseguests will be pretty useful setting things up for the reunion and the other half is really cute so I really can’t complain.
Maybe I should be exploring my options here. Let’s see, I’ll have several live-in babysitters for a week! Hmm... maybe I could get used to this.

Good News

This last Thursday Joshua and I got to hear the sound that we had most wanted to hear- our baby's heartbeat. This little child right now looks pretty much like a blob, but it is a beautiful blob.
So far things are looking pretty good, but the doctor did notice a small blood clot or bruise thingy so we’ll need to get a follow up sonogram in a few weeks. The nurse I talked to didn’t seem worried about it at all and rather sounded like she thought I was being paranoid for wanting more information about it. I’m trying not to worry about it, but we would still appreciate prayer for this little one’s safety.
I’ve been learning a whole lot about my God during this time of uncertainty about this baby. There are a lot of times when He says no to our requests, but I think that just maybe this is one of those times that He is Saying Yes. I hope it is.

Color Me

Despite the fact that this blog is full of the stuff of pinkness, pink is not my favorite color. Brown is. Now, some may say that brown is a dull, boring color and some shades of brown are. But the color I’m talking about is the rich, deep chocolate brown that makes you think of fall and sitting by a fire with a hot mug of cocoa. I’m sure my favorite color says something profound about me (besides the fact that I like chocolate), but I’m not willing to analyze myself. So instead I’m going to pick on a bunch of you by stating what color I think best describes your personality. Ready? Here goes.

Joshua: You, my dear, are a dark blue. Dark blue has a deep, amazing beauty to it that is not obvious at first, but rather takes a second look to decipher. It also has a comforting and enriching aspect.

Gaby: Even though you are the “Orange Queen,” I have to say purple for you. Purple is a tricky color to define because there are so many different shades and interpretations of it. Some see it as a dainty color while others see it as bold. It’s the combination of these two traits that makes it so beautiful.

Raquel: I think you’re brown. Brown has gotten a bad rap for being boring and predictable, but sometimes some people see it in its true form: a rich beauty that is deep, yet simple and comforting.

Jeremy: You’re yellow. (No, I’m not calling you chicken.) Yellow can be rather alarming at first, but then once my eyes adjust to its brightness it becomes to me a cheering, uplifting color.

Seth: Black. I mean really, did you expect anything else? Black can be mournful, but also peaceful and soothing in it’s simplicity.

Crystal: You also are blue, but not too dark. Blue is safe, but in certain shades it can be very daring and shocking.

Jonathan: Green. Green surprises me a lot. It tries to sound like a boring color, but it really has a vibrancy that is unexpected and very welcome.

Carrie: Light brown. It’s not as deep as dark brown, but is rather more gentle and soft. It blends well with many colors to give them a greater richness and warmth.

James: Red and I’m talking fire engine. Red is pretty much in your face and blunt. That’s not a bad thing. And it also brings energy to whatever it touches.

Theresa: Pink- I don’t mean pastel! Pink is vibrant, bold and extremely fun. Some shades can be a little bizarre, but it mostly brings the sense of femininity with it.

Dad: You’re a tricky one. I think you’re a blue. Somewhere darker than light blue, but not as deep as dark blue. Your blue has a neat quality in that it is somewhat predictable, but with a depth that is unexpected.

Barb: Orange. Orange can be everything from soft and cozy to bright and exuberant. And whatever shade it is it always has a crazy, but lovable edge.

So there you have it. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I’d love some feedback to see if you all think I got even close with all my artsy psycho babble. If nothing else, maybe you’ll look at colors now in a whole new way.

Cutie Pie and Rice Crispies

Weird and Freaky

Kids Say the Cutest Things... Sometimes

So there we were, sitting in our living room under the ceiling fan on a miserably hot day and I was not handling the heat well. My dear husband tries to cheer me up by saying to Lily, " Go tell Mommy she's pretty."
Lily looked at me and then looked back at Joshua and said with a slightly puzzled look on her face, " Mommy's not pretty- she's cranky."
Ah, the honesty of children.

The Last Tear

This picture is a project that I have wanted to do for some time now. Andrew Peterson’s song, “After the Last Tear Falls” is one of those songs that clings to your heart and refuses to let go. The line in the chorus: "...and we’ll look back on these tears as old tales" is what inspired this photograph. I have this picture, framed and matted, hanging in my living room with that line written on the white matting beneath the photo.

I was thinking about this picture less than a week ago while I was sitting on my couch next to my dad crying because I thought that I was going to lose another baby. Can it really be possible that I will look back on these tears- the tears of a mother mourning for her baby- as old tales? Yes. Even these tears.

“You number my wanderings;
Put my tears in Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?”
Psalm 56:8

Well, It’s Official

I guess I must be officially pregnant now. Just a couple of nights ago I was feeling queasy so I ate a pickle with a bowl of raisin bran. At least it’s better than pickles and ice cream. And it did make me feel better.

Good News!

I’m sure most of you know this by now through various means, but I thought I should post it anyway: There is another Gardner baby on the way! God has answered our prayers. He is so good!
This pregnancy is not going as smoothly as I would have liked, though. My progesterone levels are too low and that can be a sign that a miscarriage is likely. I’ve started taking progesterone supplements to try to help my body along, but there are no guarantees. ( But what pregnancy ever has the guarantee of a healthy baby?) So even though it is entirely possible that God may take this child away from us before he is born, I am still rejoicing in this little one. And I will still say that God is good!
Thank you to all who prayed that God would give us this baby. Now I ask that you would pray that God would let us keep him.

Grace to be Sane

Yesterday was one of those days. The kids and I all had colds so Malachi was snotty and coughing, Lily was cranky, plus Joshua was in Canada for the day on business and wasn’t expected back until late. To top it all off I was trying to pull together dinner for eleven people with a surprise birthday party thrown in for good measure. So there I was, exhausted, sick, and overwhelmed with the crankiness of sick kids. It was when I was trudging upstairs from the basement lugging a basket full of laundry that I desperately prayed, “Lord, please help me. You’ve gotten me through greater trials, now just help me get dinner on the table.”
And you know what? He didn‘t just help me throw some food on the table, He made the whole evening so pleasant. The new recipe I tried for dinner turned out well, the dining room was decorated nicely, and even the margarita glasses looked festive all rimmed with sugar and topped with an orange slice. Everyone enjoyed dinner and we all had a good time with each other.

All this made me realize once again that our God not only cares about the big, high holy things we do, but also the small, seemingly unimportant things of these earthly lives. I also realized that there isn’t one thing that I do that doesn’t totally depend on God’s grace. Whether it be raising children, being a good wife, having a dinner party or simply trying to get the laundry done- all these things are done only because God wills that they are done.

I suppose the next time I’m tempted to take pride in my clean house or a successful social gathering I should remember that if God had left it totally up to me I would have flopped big time. If I believe that my God is really as sovereign as He says He is, well then I guess there’s just no room for my pride.

“A man’s heart plans his way,
But the LORD directs his steps.”
Proverbs 16:9

DQ and My Little Dog

This evening we went to the local Dairy Queen. The kids enjoyed their sundaes and I enjoyed the fact that they didn’t spill or drop them. On our walk back home we stopped to splash in a puddle which was fun until Malachi decided he was thirsty and that dirty puddle water was just the thing to quench his thirst. So there he was belly down in the parking lot behind our house, lapping up water like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, I suppose it would be the most natural thing in the world- for a dog.
So this latest incident has further heightened my suspicions that my son is part dog. He likes to chew on shoes and play in the toilet and once when we tickled his belly, he shook his leg like crazy. Weird, huh?
That’s my boy.

Oh, the Cuteness!

Just a Thought

This is the magical time of day. As the sun sets, it sends its light to stream in through the windows to transform everything it touches to pure gold. Mind you, this doesn’t happen when the sun is awake and fresh. No, this magic only happens as the tired sun is leaving the sky for the night.
Just like “a flower in a crystal vase... lights up the room as it withers away,” somehow as some things fade away they give even more beauty than when they were first born. The same must be said for us. Is the death of a saint ugly? No, it is the final bloom of beauty that reaches around the world and up to the heavens as our Lord and His angels rejoice at the homecoming of a precious child.

A New Beginning

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
- Semisonic “Closing Time”

Our kitchen project is coming along nicely. As I type this my hands, arms, forehead and hair all have splotches of brown paint on them. Today I painted the doorposts between the kitchen and dinning room. Anyone who has ever lived in this house should know what that means- I painted over our height chart. Granted, this was a newer chart that had only a few names with marks next to them to gauge that person’s height, but still it was the principle of the thing. I was painting over my memories.

I know I’ve mentioned this type of thing before back when I had an email list instead of a blog, but I’m still struggling with the fact that I am the one that is changing my childhood home and undoing the work my mom did here. This has also been coming up as I’m working in our yard, trying to turn it back to grass. It’s so weird to be digging up the rocks that I helped to put there in the first place. There are some of them that I can even remember picking out at the creek because their shape or color was so extraordinary.

I know it’s okay to change things in and around this house. I know that I should change things here because this is my house now. But it still feels weird. And it still hurts sometimes.
In a way, I am glad that I get to be the one to redecorate this house. I think it’s healing for me. I’m not trying to sound all psycho-babbly or anything, but I really do think that. Sometimes I have a hard time letting go of the past so this situation really is the best for me. You can’t hold on to the past when you’re painting over it.

I still have my memories to hang on to and when those fail I can always borrow a few from my siblings. My mom’s kitchen was an amazing place and I hope that my kitchen will be just as wonderful. I hope it, too, is a place where delicious food is prepared as if by magic and a place where too many people try to cram themselves into. My mom’s kitchen doesn’t exist anymore- that is, it doesn’t exist in its material form. It is still an amazing place in our minds, hearts and memories. And no amount of paint can ever cover that up.

That's Why We Say Thanks Everyday

Thanks to James' blog post, What if there were no DSL?, I've been struck with all the blessings that God has bestowed on me. I'm sitting here at my computer (we don't have DSL by the way) just being happy that I live in a house I love with a small bunch of people that I absolutely adore. I love the life my God has given me- one I certainly don't deserve. Our God is so good it boggles the mind.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

My Therapy

I’ve always known that I’m not quite right in the head, but I am becoming more convince of it every day. For example, there’s the fact that I like to clean. I mean, it’s scary the way I enjoy dusting. Yesterday I decided that I wanted to clean really well in the living room. I moved all the furniture, cleared out all the toys that had gotten stuck under the couch, swept, “Swiffered”, and dusted. I even dusted the floor molding and yes, even the tops of picture frames. To a bystander I wonder if the room even looks that different from before I cleaned it, but to me it feels like a breath of fresh air. I think I was able to keep my sanity yesterday simply because I knew that the floor under my couch was dust free. It’s weird I know, but that’s what being a homemaker does to some people.

Risk Is Right

Security. Insurance. “Just to be on the safe side.” Sound familiar? As Americans we are obsessed with the idea of being safe and not taking any risks. Why? Because we’ve been taught that we have to succeed. Failure is deemed the worst possible thing that could possible happen. Now the question is, Are we as Christians supposed to be buying into that mindset? The answer is obvious: NO!

I’ve been reading a book by John Piper entitled Don’t Waste Your Life so a lot of these thoughts are either from this book or because of it. Something that he writes very strongly about is the idea that risk is right. Jesus calls his followers to risk everything for Him. When He first called his disciples they answered His call by leaving everything. They left their families, their jobs and their possessions behind. That’s some risk. How about that poor widow who gave her last two coins? Again, a huge risk, but Jesus says nothing but praise of her. He doesn’t launch into a speech about how she should have planned ahead and saved her money or invested it. Instead He says that she did exactly the right thing. And think of any martyr you have ever heard of. Is there any greater risk to take than to put your life on the line?

Here we are in modern America. How does this willingness to risk everything show in our lives? As I‘ve been reading Piper’s book and asking myself that same question, these are some questions I’ve come up with: How do I spend my money? Do I give enough of it away or do I hoard it and claim to be “saving for the future.” When I speak to others am I too concerned with being politically correct and not offending anyone or am I bold in my speech? Do I care too much about what others think of me or am I willing to be thought a fool for the sake of the Gospel?

I hope I’m not coming across as if I have all the answers to how every Christian should live his life. I’m clueless here. I’m simply paraphrasing what I’ve read in a book written by a man far wiser than I am. I have many more thoughts on this topic, but they will have to wait for another time. I hear my children stirring in their rooms and it’s time for me to put aside my rant and start mothering.

I’d like to leave you with a very important thought. No matter what you risk and no matter how you fail, Jesus will never leave your side. Hunger, famine, nakedness- even the sword cannot separate us from His love. He is, and will always be, our only true security.