Oh Halp...

All this while I was changing B's diaper just now. She was in the same room. My back was turned.

Now I'm just staring.

I don't quite believe she did it.

What do ya do? I mean, really?

I so need back-up today...





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

A Wednesday Ramble

I know I promised a post about Adam today, but I'm tired and uninspired this morning, and I'm on my husband's laptop because my computer's graphics card decided to take a break this week and I can't even process the photos I took the other day to help me feel better after the both-kids-screaming-at-me-while-I-make-the-bed incident.

So you get a sunset that actually propelled me OUT of my parents' house a week after Bredon's birth, a little bit of my homesick, and some "this is where I am today" thoughts.

Pete's parents are in town, and they sat with the kids for an hour or so last night so Pete and I could run to the drugstore and get a nasal aspirator (we got two - one of them didn't end up working anyway - who makes these things, I'd like to know?). We ended up talking for a bit in the car too. It was the first quiet non-kids moment we've had in weeks.

So I shed a few tears that weren't into a pillow or aimed at the ceiling or buried under the covers after everyone was asleep, and asked my husband the God-questions that have been following me around over the last few days, and we went inside feeling like we needed hours more to begin to touch and share and resolve the range of emotion we're both living in right now.

We're such quality time people. Kids don't make much room for that.

The tired is winning right now. Pete's parents are wanting to offer a needed break; they're taking Piper out for a while today. I think it is a God thing.

Right now, she wants Daddy, and he's gone to work. And Mom is not an acceptable substitute. But she'll take ketchup with those sausages.

I am so thankful for the sunshine in our house this week. It helps me feel alive, makes me notice beautiful I would otherwise miss. Makes me miss being able to do anything with my photos post-shoot right now!

I've got a feeling there may be a lot of days like this, when I lose touch with my profound (oh! look at that ego - I consider myself profound??!?), and write from my human. I read somewhere once that being human is the best basis for relationship with God - it lets Him be God, defines my incredible need for Him.

Need I've got figured out. There's a lot of that around here. The question now is "how big is God?" I'm still working on how He relates to me. Hence the continuing meditation on Immanuel. And on the lilies and the sparrows...

And now the littlest one is up, and my time here is up. Enjoy the sunset - I hope it takes your breath away too!





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

God Unchanging

January fourth.

Four days into the new year.

I started a post this morning. Got interrupted by my two. Hated the post when I came back to read it.

It was just another post about the new year and what I want to do in it. Vastly unoriginal at this point, and not very much of me in it to make it more original.

I'm setting too many rules for myself again.

Right now, I don't need rules.

I need grace.

The kind of grace that means I don't have to measure up to the person I'm trying to be right now, the person I feel I have to be. The kind of grace that reminds me that even though it's a new year, I am still the same person, and God is still the same Person - yesterday, today, forever.

I cleaned up our bedroom this morning, with Bredon on the bed, setting up a holler. Piper, not to be outdone, came up with ten different issues that Mommy had to fix, now. With both kids screaming at me, I found myself staring at the ceiling as the "inadequate" rushed over me in waves that brought sudden tears.

Inadequate to mother two. I made repeated vows to stop having kids now. But oh, Bredon is so precious, so tiny. How can I close my heart to it again?

Inadequate to give my heart to a photography project that has come my way this year. I can never be so spiritual as I need to be to be the person God really wants for this job. What was I thinking to accept?

Inadequate to be His, to name His name, to speak of Him at all. I almost vow to give Him up; the words catch in my throat. Is He not enough for this too?

I'm out of control. Everything I know is in transition, overhauled in this new life we have now. The space I've gained for myself is no longer there to depend on. My schedule is shot. Yearly goals are impossible to make in moments driven by the immediate.

I'm still the person I was; I am not so afraid of losing that as I was - but I must be changed through this. It is the nature of growth, of God-work.

My responsibilities are simple now: eat, nourish, clean as I can, love my babies - keep my head above water. It is not much. It is not grand. I am not impassioned in doing these things.

I remember how used to spend time, and tears come again, unbidden, because I miss being 16 years old with nothing more to do than read one book after another after another. Life was so dream-full then.

And now I am living my dreams deferred, and they are not what I thought they would be; with these gifts, there is a reminder of God, a need to acknowledge Him. I am no longer able to use the gifts without gratitude, to live my own dreams without His strength.

The night before I went into labor with Bredon, He spoke reassurance; that He would be God on this side of the gift as He was before I knew who He was. I could count on that, rest in His unchanging heart, His Godness that I still don't comprehend. That I still don't need to comprehend for His grace to overshadow me, for His Son to be my righteousness, my adequate, my exceeding abundant above.

And I know where my heart will be this year, learning deep about this Son of Man, God-with-us who revealed the Father, who became sin for me, who was and is and always will be Alpha Omega, my enough.

"Happy - Sad"

Piper has a new favorite game to play with Daddy.

She'll give him an emotion to portray - "happy" or "sad" - and he hams it up until she dies laughing. The other night, I caught these between strong baby-contractions that blotted out the rest of the evening.

The "happy" in which I took these photos was exciting. We thought we were having a baby. I thought I would finally get to touch his face. The midwife thought I would get to hold him. The contractions were strong, 4-5 minutes apart, lasting 1-2 minutes. We were ready to call the midwife to come... and then everything stopped.


Yesterday's "sad" wasn't that comical.

I've been making an effort at my blog and in our home to keep things as normal as possible, trying to notice the life we are living in between, trying to hold these last few days, hours - minutes - close.

I've also chosen to be open with many of the ups and downs I'm experiencing at the end of this pregnancy. I'm sure this has left many of my friends and readers feeling as though they are on the roller coaster with us, but I have wanted to write through this, to be open with those who are praying, to have this here for myself so I remember.

I don't want to remember yesterday. Not the tears, the disappointment, the frustration, the questions, the deep, deep depression. Yesterday I hit my limit on what I could share. For the first time during this pregnancy, I was ready to slam the doors shut, beg for some privacy, tell everyone to just go away with their good wishes and their hope for pictures and good news that I. didn't. have.

For all the words that spilled out here yesterday, I felt an eerie stillness in my soul as the contractions kept coming, ten minutes apart, just as they had the day before.

Internally, I was writhing with new pain unlike the pain I'd experienced with Piper's birth. The "I can't take any more of this" that didn't hit until transition with Piper pounded me, reverberating with God's promise to Eve that she should "have pain in childbirth..."

I kept wanting to ask Him what I was doing wrong. As if I was back at that tree thinking God was holding out on me - maybe if I just knew what He knew, I could get to Him faster so I could...

And there I was, exposed.

My "I delivered one child" pride, my demand for His presence in my own timing, my willful control of my own destiny - and that of my child.

A child whose story God was writing yesterday on my heart, preparing me to receive him, preparing me to return him as willingly to the heart of his Father as I learned to do with Piper when I was afraid she wasn't breathing, when I have wanted to hold her and change her to be what she is not.

God may exist as God outside of my circumstances, but He uses them for His own purposes in my heart.

It's an up/down, happy/sad walk, this being human and waiting for His timing outside of time.

I am not like Mary. "May it be to me as You have said."

I wouldn't have gotten picked for her job.

But He did choose me anyway, to let me know Him, to be the mother of these two children, to walk this path as He brings forth fruit in me that is His for the harvest.

Piper is sleeping on my lap as I write this morning, bundled up in a blanket, listening to my heartbeat. She wouldn't be here if Button had come already.

It's one more gift, one more chance to let my first baby know how much I love her.

-------------------------

Just a Note:

I promise, I will post updates as they come, and pictures as soon as we have them. Please don't pressure me for more than I have to share. I have been so encouraged by so many of you, and I want to keep writing and sharing this journey here, but I'm feeling really vulnerable right now, and it's taking a lot for me to not shut everyone out.

This introvert would not make a very good celebrity, I think.

-------------------------

My friend Emily at Chatting at the Sky hosts a weekly "noticing" party - giving us a chance to unwrap and share the little gifts (and the big ones!) God gives to us in the midst of our dailiness.

Do you have a gift to unwrap today? Stop on by and link up with Emily, and share in the (mostly) paperless unwrapping!





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Warm Cozies and a Haircut - A Few Photos

So blah, yeah, it's me. (Sorry about that... :-P)

I'm showing off today. My hubby bought me a haircut for an early Christmas gift.

It. Was. Awesome. A few minutes for myself. A seriously perfect shampooing and head massage. To. Die. For. Girl talk - you know the kind about babies and hair and makeup and dreams and stuff?

And on top of it all, I absorbed lots of really sweet commentary about my baby belly and how good I looked pregnant. It was SO nice to hear, especially when the majority of people take one look and ask "so you're due soon, right?" They've been doing that since about seven months. I am seriously ALL baby here.

I am so spoiled. I'd feel like I'm being downright narcissistic, except I have felt so frumpy recently, it's really nice to feel pretty today! So I'll take it, and be grateful for it, and share it with you, narcissistic or no!

Oh, and Pete bought me flowers, too, but I'm saving a photo of those for Monday.


And it's such a cold and rainy day here, I have to pass on Piper's new favorite thing: cuddling up over the heat grate (any of them) and getting her "warm cozies" fix. It is so seriously cute, I want to cry. I just love it!

Yesterday, when I took this photo, she was cuddling over the grate in our bedroom while I made the bed, and I dropped the blanket over her as she buried herself in. WHAT a cuddlebug!

And this photo just reminded me of another one, taken when she was about three months old. So you get that today as well.


I cannot believe she was ever this small. Wow.

I cannot believe we're about to do this again.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Just "Hanging" Out

Piper is being a Toddler today. Not that she isn't normally. But sometimes she's the cute, learning, sweet-speaking toddler, and sometimes she's the "let's get everything out" and "make lots of messes" and "play with the no-touch things" Toddler. She is the latter today.

And I'm the Hormonal Pregnant Mama today. Which translates to the Toddler as The Wicked Witch of the West when I say "no." And Daddy is, of course, Our Hero. He gets rather caught in the middle sometimes.

But in the midst of the messes and the Thwarted Toddler and the Thwarted Hormonal Pregnant Mama, we did sit down together for a few minutes. We read some books. We hung out. We took pictures to document that sometimes we DO have fun together.

Actually, the Toddler was interrupting a limited self-portrait session of mine (limited, because I've only got so much energy here, and I'm NOT seeing me today). But we decided to make it fun, and whacked our personalities together for a few minutes to see what we'd come up with. Without further ado, I give you (friends, relatives, and posterity):

Piper and Mama










(Images © Informal Moments Photography)

We Are Bad Parents

Piper didn't bond with a blankie. She quit the binky on her own by the time she was five months old. Nothing would do for her except Mom and Dad.

Until Minnie Mouse.

Piper's Grandpa Sauer brought her a pink-outfitted Minnie Mouse back from Disney World last year. I was somewhat standoffish to the toy - my sister was a Mickey Mouse fan, and I simply hated the non-classic cartoon clutter in our shared bedroom that I really wanted to be more of a designer room. (Had to get that dig in, Sis... *snarky look*)

To my relief, Piper pretty much ignored Minnie too, until she became a fan of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, which plays twice in the mornings on Playhouse Disney.

Suddenly, she started trucking around the house carrying Minnie with her. Talking to her. Asking to dress like her. Taking her to bed with her and tucking her in. Buckling her into the high chair so she can eat. Going through the house calling her name as she tries to find her.

AND WE, THE BAD PARENTS, ABANDONED MINNIE YESTERDAY.

It was an accident. I promise. We left Minnie at the midwife's - the one that is about two hours away. The visit that was supposed to be our last visit out there.

But it wasn't just that. We left our baby folder out there too - the one with all the paperwork for Button's birth. And we didn't remember either until we were driving home by a different route at about 9:30 last night.

They say having kids destroys brain cells. I'm thinking that's probably not an excuse.

I'll be on the road today, searching for Minnie.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

This Would Be Me

It's one of those days when I really have nothing to say. It's a mood thing. We've seen the sun for the first time since Sunday, and I've actually done something with my hair and put. my. make-up. on. It's been a month, people.

I've made the bed (first time all week), and I've got a few baking projects in mind. I know what we're doing for dinner (SHOCK - last night, it took us an hour just to decide we didn't know what to make, so we'd go out for dinner), and I'm cleaning up Pip's yesterday-mess.

Aaaand I'm having braxton-hix contractions and my ligaments are straining to accommodate the young Master Sauer while my hips and pelvis pop in and out. It's getting funny.

I'm also plotting Christmas decorations to go up in the next few weeks (since we're practically skipping Thanksgiving anyway b/c I can't travel), and I'm seriously hoping to get out and do some shooting, just for the fun of it, since I'll be finalizing my last wedding this weekend. Hence the photo for today's post. One of my very favorites, ever. :-D

We've got to hit a thrift store for warmer clothing for Piper and a few little things for Button, and finish off the few Christmas gifts we're gonna be able to send to people this year. Sorry, peoples we love - we'll send a new year card and photo, but the baby needed our money - he's already sucking us dry!!!

Um. I think I'm in a good mood. A random mood. But a good mood.

And I seriously want pickles for breakfast.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

unwrapped

I pulled out my camera to shoot the wall plaque gift I had re-noticed on Sunday night, the one that prompted my post-end yesterday, the reminder to my rueful heart to "be still" and know that He is I AM.

Standing beneath me, Piper began her little camera song, "Smiiie, Smiiie, Smiiie," waiting for me to turn it on her so that she could look into the replay screen and ask, "whoozat?" and answer for herself, "it's YOU!"

I found myself lying on the floor with the camera (unable to move my baby bulk up again without a crane) taking her picture, focusing for a few minutes at least on the little person who has changed our lives so much.

It is hard to believe she came from me, hard to believe that the tiny thing we held after five hours of labor has become this little pack of energy and vibrance and spit and vinegar and personality.

It is harder to believe there is another life with a God-plan inside me now, and I'm asking Him, "Why choose me for this? Why not someone else?"

The whys are left unanswered.

I watch Pip grow, wait impatiently for Button to come; I want to demand that God help me figure out a way to let Him into this growing vulnerability of mine, but the demand comes as a whimper by the time I get it out, because who am I to expect Him, to deserve Him in this, my "pain in childbearing?"

Piper has been more clingy lately. I don't know if she's picking up on my uncertainty about this whole mothering thing, or if it's just a new phase, a "Mommy?" phase. Even at night, if she is disturbed, she wakes long enough in our bed to assure herself I am there, touching my hair, throwing her arm over me - or tramping in from her room to cuddle in and be close. She's been calling me Mommy, with a sweet-toned question mark, looking for me, waiting for the hug she knows is still there even in the tired.

She's so much like I am, though she is so much more willing to lay herself out and ask for love I dare not allow myself to expect from her, from anyone, even from God.

I think I try too often to live without love. Piper just lives, seeing through my current standoffish approach to life, even sensing my heart within the changes it's going through, reaching for me in spite of me.

Emily encourages to unwrap God's gifts in the daily chaos of our lives; I think Piper is unwrapping me.

I wonder as I watch her sometimes - what does she know of Him that I don't? I think in her innocence, she may be more conscious of what love is. In her unselfconscious love, she is more like Him who is Love than I.

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Posted for Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky.
Another good read, check out "The Little Island", sent to me this morning by my new friend Maureen.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

saturday vignettes with piper

There is nothing like watching your child roundly ignore you until finally she deigns to look up from what she's doing. And she doesn't use a direct look. Oh no. She drops chin to chest, slowly raising her face and eyes up her shoulder to look at you with all the eloquence of a sly and practiced "yes? you wanted something?" response. And any intentioned parental enforcement disappears into the laughter she knew she would produce.

Piper occasionally helps around the house now; we ask her to pick something up and put it away, and she is often willing to do so. Until she is not willing. Then she turns up her pretty nose, points her eyeballs at the ceiling fan, and prances past.

She has the funniest pronunciation glitches, too. She often adds a "t" on the end of her words for emphasis.

"Up-t!"
"Done-t!"
"Down-t!"

And my favorites to hear, the words with the "f" sound:

"Phfroouit" (LOVE that one)
"Phfrog"
"Phfrower"

Yesterday, she re-christened a Koala bear for Adam - "Kawadika beahr."

She loves to sing along with pretty music, and she's learned the words (uncoached!) to Ariel's Part of Your World (Piper's input in bold):

"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat, wouldn't you think my collection's com-Pete, wouldn't you think I'm the girl, the girl who has every-Tink?"

She's nowhere near the melody yet, but she has the sweetest little voice, and she always makes sure to look properly wistful at the end of the song, gazing beautifully out the car window, wishing, I think, to be "part of that woooooord." Whatever world that is.

We went to the park the other night, and she loved finding the freedom to run almost as far as she wanted on the grass. I think my favorite position of hers is the one she took when Pete would go after her: an immediate sit-crouch, pulling her knees up to her chest, and then burying her head, as if she could make herself small enough that he'd walk right past and she could get away.

We're still trying to transition her to her own bed. But now, instead of hollering at us when she wakes up in her own room at night, she simply sneaks quietly back into our room and climbs into our bed. We keep waking up and wondering how she got there. I'm thinking Benadryl might come in handy at some point...

I'm writing these down while I can still remember them. And I'm writing them for the grandmothers and aunts who love the stories (stewies, Pip would say). I'm writing them down so I remember that raising a toddler is not all tired and uncertain and discouraging.

As I said, I learn slowly.

home together

Pete is working late tonight, so I thought I might just post about being home alone. Moving from full time office work where I had almost constant interaction with people (well, for an introvert, it felt constant :-P) to home and nothing but my thoughts and my baby was quite an adjustment for me. And it takes me FOREVER to adjust to change. Every time I start to get the hang of it, we end up moving again.

But I am settling in, enough to start making time for more than survival, to start actually living a little between Pete's departure and return on a given day. Sometimes, Piper and I play games together. And we read stories - or rather, she brings me books and turns the pages faster than I can keep up. I'm still learning about that one. Once in a blue moon, I will play the piano, and lately, I've been getting to have non-nursing time to sit down and cuddle with Piper, as she's beginning to wean and starting to accept my "no" to her "beas, beas, beas!" (Do note the squeak on that final "beas.")

I finished a wedding this last weekend - talk about motivation here - so I'm starting to gear up for the next three before I shoot my July wedding. I'm taking it slow, but we have a babysitter who comes once a week, and I can do some marathon work when she is here. Piper loves her time with Alexis, too, and we've found some really sweet fellowship with her family.

I talk on the phone a bit when I'm home alone, calling my mom every other day or so, and catching my sister on the fly. Piper has learned to pick up the phone and talk to it now - it's so cute! She keeps us laughing.

And we take random pictures together, the Mom, the toddler, and the cat, and sometimes we yell at each other too, and sometimes we watch movies and listen to movies and take baths and clean house. We can be very random, because too much routine is too much routine. Our favorite thing is dancing to our music together, and we also like to play hide and seek and tag. Piper squeals and squeals in her excitement now, and she's already got her "cute" squeak down.

And sometimes we bake, when Mommy wants something sweet to eat, like the blackberry crunch she is currently craving, or almond-flavored sugar cookies that go wonderfully with milk... And because Pete is not home yet and we don't need to do dinner for another hour, I'm going to go do that with Pip, since we're snacking all day too.

I like having a little person around to do things with me. Sure, every mom needs a little space for herself, but I have to say it's much nicer being home together. It's good to remember this stuff. It makes having two seem less daunting than it seems in the moments when Piper is pushing limits and taking off her own dirty diapers and writing on the walls.

P.S. This is one of our random pictures. Piper was behind me in the chair, squeezing my neck while I shot this...

and when you don't bloom...

you remember the ones who love you, even though you scream irrational things and push them away and don't keep up the way you should. you remember what love is, that it is not earned, that it is humbling to receive and acceptance is not something you can grit your teeth and do.

and when you can, you give back. you hug the screaming toddler who set you off and cuddle with the man who deserves more than you, and you are grateful for a scarf made for your birthday from yarn his mom brought home from italy. because it's so much more than a scarf. it's love, love she let you have in giving you her son, love that comes by way of her granddaughter, love that makes her take time to create for you when she doesn't always know what to buy.

love isn't always what you want it to look like. it isn't always what you expect. if it was, it wouldn't be so powerful when you're at the end of you.

when you don't bloom, you are grateful that love is what it is.

a little me time

This morning, I went shopping. All by myself. At Pete's insistence. You know, I had honestly forgotten the absolute healing power of shopping and doing GIRL THINGS without a baby or a husband around. Even if you're just thrifting or window shopping, or walking around in the rain and absorbing the atmosphere, just BEING, all by yourself.

I cried and sang in the car at the top of my lungs, and I decided not to care how bad it sounded, God didn't care, and nobody was there to laugh. I bought me flowers that I couldn't pass up (though I must note that Pete did wonderful valentine things for me yesterday, like getting the piano tuned, and buying me both DVD versions of Sense and Sensibility), and when I came home, I got to take a few more photos of the lovely rain we had today.

Driving and music was healing, feeling, time to open up, to remember that God created me to live, and He placed me here, to wonder, to enjoy, to have fun, to praise Him and find His goodness in all of everything I get to do and be and have and love every day. I'm not of the world, but I'm in it, and I think He wants me to be alive in it. (This would be my ode to everything I've been wrestling with on a spiritual level this week.) After all, it was His idea to breathe Life into this dust.

All that to say I was refreshed today- though after yesterday, anything would have been refreshing. Now, I'm off to spend a bit more Valentine time with my own two valentines - the little one has just set up her "a-roo-roo-rwooo!" that sounds just like a little hound dog puppy... She's so cuuuute! (Oh, there was a *sing-songy voice* in there.) Funny how much more I can want to be with her after a little me time... I would never have guessed! Hmm... Thinking that I must make this a regular habit.

Parable

I found frost in my world this morning. Frost and spring. Frost and light painting the grass and etching with shadows; spring reaching into the cold, cold sky, waking dusted with bits of icy dew, greeting the sun with little explosions of color.


I ramble-posted about community last night, just some thoughts off the top of my head, a little bit of a paragraphical outline to a post that I didn't want to write. But I should know better than to ramble-post. It takes time and love and thought for me to communicate a spiritual point. Time to organize my thoughts, thought to draw my readers' attention ultimately to His face, love that allows me to be open with readers who sometimes don't see beyond the words I say to my heart.

Some of the comments I received about last night's ramble have made me think that I need to take some time to expand my thoughts a bit.

You see, I am finding that the thing that makes community life-giving is a common pursuit, a common knowledge, a common love. C.S. Lewis said that friendship is born at the moment one man says to another, "What! You, too? I thought I was the only one."

I have found this sort of community with other photographers through Flickr, Shutter Sisters, SmugMug, and I ♥ Faces. I have found this sort of community with other moms through blogs and articles and playdates and nurseries. I have found this sort of community with other writers through papers and articles and editing and sharing.

Photographers pursue beauty. They share the same failings and challenges and passion. Moms pursue being good moms and raising good kids. They share the same failings and challenges and passion. Writers seek excellence in communicating their stories. They share the same failings and challenges and passion.

From what I have seen and experienced, Christians pursue what is right. Nearly all of the comments about last night's post went directly for this point - that we need to make sure that what we pursue and believe is right; community then becomes the accountability police force we need to make sure we are safe.

But there is something more to community, and this is where I hoped last night's scattered thoughts might point: the common bond that should be found in a community of believers is a pursuit of the heart of God.

When we are pursuing His heart, HE is our safety. His Spirit has changed me so deeply that I don't even think like me anymore. I look back at the way I thought even five years ago about God, and I am shocked at the changes in my understanding. The Spirit doesn't always speak to me about what I should do, but about who He is. And when I live in the light of who He is, I can't help but pursue His heart. Because He loves me. Because when I don't define Him, He is never the assumed. Because there is always mystery in intimacy, and intimacy in suffering, and suffering in choosing Him over anyone.

Generally (and I do mean generally, there are some specific exceptions), Christians who advocate community are pursuing community itself for community's sake. The pursuit is not God's heart, but rather becomes a safe set of principles and a common understanding that we must all look like X and be together doing X and being X. The emphasis in these communities is too often on teeth-picking and sepulcher-washing.

True spiritual community among the ekklesia is found in the pursuit of His heart, and in the knowledge of Him. What if we do look past what we know of community to see what He will show us about His heart, about the oneness Jesus prayed we would have, that He has with our Father

There will always be those who deliberately and willfully choose sin who will need to be confronted about their sin. God does use the ekklesia to step in when the person is shutting down His convicting Spirit and still claiming to be seeking God.

There was a time in my life when no one believed me when I said "God told me"; I know what He said, and I know what He has done in my heart because I chose Him over the "wise" counsel of my friends and elders. There will always be those who justify themselves by saying "God told me." I don't have to believe them; it is between them and God, and my response to them must be directed by Him.

These are the frost, coating the beautiful spring that will burst forth anyway because He says it is time. These are the frost that isn't destroying the blossom that is already there. These are the frost that will melt away as the sun's light falls across it. Don't fear them. Don't hate them. Don't drive them away. He loves them so much. He wants to draw them to Himself too.

Don't be afraid to trust His Spirit's leading as you listen to His voice calling you to come to Him. He will always lead us to Himself by way of His Son. If the voice you hear does not lead to Christ, it is not worth listening to. He gives us His heart, and then He leads us to His friends. Can you imagine being surrounded by a community of people who look at you and say, "What, you know Him too? I thought I was the only one!"

And the pursuit is all His beauty.

It amazes me how the rest of it all falls away as we enter into Him. If we are focused on His heart, our interactions with others in this community will be focused by His heart. The sepulcher-washing becomes encouragement that others can see His work in us, the commonality of our pursuit of Him will help us know that we are not alone. Confrontation over sin finds its place in His heartbreak as we communicate His heart to the one who is shutting Him down. And hearing His voice becomes an adventure, a joy, an experience to be shared.

Spring dawns with light, and the fragrance spreads.

The Hair Saga is Over

It has been about two years since I had my hair cut short. It may be about two years again, if things go the way they went this weekend to get it cut.

I've been debating about sharing the saga that includes a non-caring male stylist who just wanted to be done for the day, who was answering cell phone calls during my haircut, watching the people go by in the mall outside during my cut, and trying to make me like something that I didn't like at all. I don't know if I want to go into how much courage it took me to tell a stylist for the first time in my life that I hated it. I don't want to talk about being angry because I felt so vulnerable about losing five inches of hair I loved for a cut I hated. I'm still debating about admitting to the fact that I went for a SECOND cut yesterday to get the whole thing fixed because of my own vanity.

So for now, I think I'll just stick with a photo and leave it at that. All affirming comments will be absorbed straight to my feminine ego. Including affirming comments for the man in my life who let me get it cut both times and loved me before and after and until he dies. Which might be soon if I don't take it easy on him. (Man, I love that guy...)

About My Day

“The secret is not who we are, or what we are, but in our dedication to Him. In turning over all that we are—for His use—for his purpose. That is the secret. It is not whether we have been given ten talents, or five talents—or only one talent—but whether we are willing to release that talent into the hand of God—to let Him make use of that “little thing” as He desires. He asks only for us—us as He has created us. He decides who we are, what we are, what abilities, aptitudes and gifts we have. We decide whether we are going to willingly give what we are, who we are, back to Him.

“It’s simple, really. God made us. He loves us. He has provided for our redemption. He wants our love and devotion. He knows just what can be accomplished with the little we have to offer Him. It all depends on whether we are willing to give Him free rein. Whether we are willing to say, ‘Here is my little, Lord. Cast it down, break it up, hurl it out, as You see fit.’ Only then will we be of use to the Master… Only then will we be given freedom — released to serve.”

~From The Measure of a Heart, by Janette Oke

Morning panic attacks, a no-napped Piper, a potato reaction, a disorganized afternoon, thwarted dinner plans, my sense of utter failure. I don't have much little left.

And the releasing comes before the doing.

Oh. My. Gosh.

You ever eat something that is so exactly what you wanted you can't get over it?

I just did.

This is why I am blogging about the chocolate chip cookie I just ate. I think I've been craving one for months.

WOW.

I feel like I've died and gone to heaven.

Not really. But golly was it good!

Things I Will Never Do Again - Redux

Nutiva Customer Service to Kelly:

Dear Kelly,

Please accept our apologies at Nutiva for the difficulties you had with the five gallon coconut oil. The 5 gallon oil originally had a zip tab around the lid which made it easy to open. When the tab was removed you could lift the lid off. The company that packages the coconut oil for us changed the packaging recently without informing us.

We have told them the current package is unacceptable and we will have the zip style lid again soon. The single gallon is still made with the zip strip lid and I'm sending you a free one for the problems you experienced and so you can also see how the 5 gallon lid will be in the future. Again, we are very sorry you had to struggle with the container you purchased.

Sincerely,
Mark

____________________

I won't include my initial irate email here, though I will say that it read something along the lines of Lady Catherine's parting shot to Elizabeth Bennett:

"I take no leave of you, [Nutiva]. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased."

Sometimes vindication is sweet.

Though I do feel bad for chewing them out.

Blah. I'm such a pushover.

Things I Will Never Do Again

So in the blitz of supplements we have ordered recently, I thought I would save money by purchasing some things wholesale instead of buying them in small, expensive increments.

Things like coconut oil.

Did you know you can get coconut oil wholesale?

I ordered a 5-gallon tub of coconut oil on sale. I saved about $90.00. Then at the checkout, I saved another $27.00 (I don't know how this happened - it was some sort of price break for ordering a certain amount or something.) I even got free shipping!

I eagerly anticipated the arrival of the coconut oil, congratulating myself on the deal I had gotten and looking forward to not having to purchase coconut oil for a year or more.

We had run out of our coconut oil, so when it arrived, I removed the tub from its packaging and tried to open it. The tub, which is more like a bucket, bore warnings about children falling into it and drowning. But coconut oil is a solid at room temperature, so I wasn't worried about that. I removed several different plastic things from a... spout?

Coconut oil is a solid. How am I supposed to pour it out of a spout? There had to be something else, some other way to open the bucket.

We tried and tried to open the top lid, but it wouldn't come. Apparently, the morons who put the coconut oil into the bucket had completely sealed it. It was all one piece.

So I dipped the handle of one of my large cooking spoons into the spout and scooped out... 1 1/2 cups. Out of 5 gallons that had cost me a couple hundred dollars. A couple of now inaccessible hundred dollars. Geez. It's like the stock market.

I scooped and tried and finally gave up. But this morning, I ran out of that piddly 1 1/2 cups of coconut oil, and I knew it was time for battle.

I wrestled the 50-pound container into the bathroom and doused it in the hottest water I could get out of the spigot. Coconut oil melts at 76 degrees, so I was hoping it would melt so I could actually pour it out of the spigot. Five minutes later, I pulled it out and tried to transfer it into a container. Nothing. I tried again, this time for ten minutes with the bathtub filling around it.

This time, I was able to half fill my container - I poured out about two cups of oil. I put the bucket back into the tub and wrestled it out again ten minutes later. We had less this time, but it was pouring, at least. This time, when I put it back into the bathtub, it hit the water upright and the resulting splash soaked me. It took me one more melting/pouring attempt to fill the container, with the solid coconut oil jumping into the spigot opening and blocking the melted oil.

Next time, I'm taking the bucket to a hardware store and paying for something big, mean, and bad to cut through the totally-sealed packaging.

Or I just won't by my coconut oil in bulk.

I wonder. Does anyone know what I could get out of the company who sold it to me for pain and suffering?

...And Fluffy

"His yolk's over-easy and his burn is light."

My brain is fried.