fantastic

What is it about fantasy that so strikes my soul? I mean, I can read plenty of books, and I do, about regular people, and though I may love it, it never sucks my brain in quite like Tolkien, or C.S. Lewis, or even Harry potter or Twilight for that matter! Maybe it's obvious. I crave an alternate reality. Perhaps I am discontent with myself. I would prefer to have magical powers, or some kind of mythical secret friends... whatever it is about fantasy, it really just gets its hooks into my brain, taps into some yearning in a way that nothing else does. But I guess that is a reflection of my broken state, and that something within me reaches out for what I should have been, if the Fall had never occurred, or what I should be, were I living up to my full potential.

Stephanie Meyer may have been on to something with this vampire thing; a perfected version of humanity, at least the "vegetarian" ones... what with the super human strength, speed, indestructibility, and beauty; it reminds me of what we will be like eventually, with our new bodies. Does that sound crazy? Of course it does. But what seems to me like a bit of sense is when Paul talks about running the race in such a way as to win. And seeing ourselves perfected in Christ, our completion, the way that we are being perfected through our trials. And how now, we see but in part, but one day we will see clearly. That is what I yearn for, I think.

I do believe that someone else described our new bodies and minds in a similar way, how, though we are still ourselves, recognizable, we will be beautiful beyond compare, and our understanding will so surpass what we can grasp now... maybe we will actually use all of our brains, not just a measley 10%. Was it C.S. Lewis in The Great Divorce? I think I might need to reread that. I think that's what I am thinking of, though. Seeing those who had died, looking like themselves, and yet more glorious than any earthly person.

I had a conversation with my girls tonight, about heaven, and seeing Jesus. At times, my reaction is to shy away from giving them direct answers to their questions, or discourage them from thinking too literally about what heaven may be like. But what do I know? Didn't Christ teach us that our faith needs to be like that of a child? That is really hitting me lately, so I just listened to them tell me that they were excited to see Jesus, that they knew that they would be able to run so fast as to fly, and that they would be able to go with him into the clouds. This was all prompted by their telling me how unrealistic Jack and the Beanstalk is, since a cloud could never hold a heavy house, nor could a hen lay golden eggs. But they get that nothing is impossible with Christ. They are 5, and they are teaching me so much.

the best

Among the crunchy leaves, our mud-proof boots strapped on, and smiles plastered to our faces, we can't resist the late autumn sun! We won't throw away our gift of joy, but hold it, cradled in our chapped hands, relishing it's softness, it's warmth, it's crisp crunch, and it's pumpkin ridges.

All of these moments, pure and dear, we won't let slip away, not without a kiss. An aknowledgement, a thankful, hearty smack. What could matter in the face of this brightness? I couldn't say. We didn't find any acorns, but brick paths and lampposts, ginko leaves, and hand in hand under the sycamores, we don't mind at all.

for the first time in my life...

...I did not procrastinate. I got an early start on the twin's costumes. I was very excited to make them, this being the first year that they have been aware of Halloween, and there being a parade at preschool, they actually had occasion to dress up.

But I am by nature a procrastinator. I almost cannot get started on something until there is major pressure on me to get it done. But this time, I didn't. I got started a month ahead of time, and slowly got going, sewing and cutting a bit almost every evening after the kids went to bed. I took a break for about a week, to get their winter hats made, and that was apparently a mistake, because I was still up till 4:30 in the morning on Sunday night, finishing these dang costumes!

The results were not absolutely perfect, but the girls were very happy, and their teacher said that they were very proud to put them on. A bluebird and Tinkerbell were very obliging and allowed me to get a couple of shots of them... before flying off to warmer regions. I think that I saved no money whatsoever, and maybe took a little too much pride in doing it myself, but I must say, none of the Tinkerbell costumes for sale look anything like the dress that Tink makes for herself out of leaves and grass, the same problem as when I was a kid, so I feel justified.

shadow or light?

There are days when I don't know which end is up. When my stomach jumps with unexplained butterflies, and not the good kind. A small surge of fear that grabs me from out of nowhere, over and over again throughout the day. Tears that well up, that I want so badly to control, but can't. When I keep praying for help, for peace, and yet small pressures keep mounting and I can't see clearly.

Some days are just like that for me. Not many, though, thankfully. Those days pass, and I realize that reality doesn't need to overwhelm me.

I find myself thinking that I just have a problem; that other people float through their days on a cloud of contentment, mostly untouched by the stresses that I wrestle with. I know that this is not true, can't be true, and yet I sit here believing it on some level. I also wonder if I have a bit of bi-polar disorder, or am I just overly sensitive? Who cares, really. Because peace is available for the asking, and joy is not elusive. It is given in so many small gifts every day, if I only have the sense not to chuck it out the window.

Today is one of those normal days, where I can see both the shadow and the light, and simply have to choose my focus. Why I don't always make the right choice is beyond me, but I'm working on that.

If there's a crisis, I'm probably not your girl

So, yes, there was an earthquake today. I feel sort of irritated that this will probably be the 7 millionth blog post about this East Coast quake, 5.8 on the richter scale, but who cares? Some things just need to be recorded.

I was at work, sitting down to my lunch break, when we heard a whooshing noise, and looked at each other, confused. The floor and walls were shaking (really? is that what happens during an earthquake? enlightening, isn't it?), and the length moulding started sliding around where it was leaning up against the wall. The water cooler was our proof that it wasn't over yet. I thought to myself, "I should do something!" and continued to sit blankly. "I'm not with my kids!" was the only other coherent thought that passed through my mind. After a couple of minutes, we started trying to reach our loved ones, see if they felt it, shake off some of the weirdness. I think that the undercurrent of our strange inability to focus on our jobs was the idea that if it could happen once, it could happen again, and worse.

So yeah, I am not the quickest reactor, or the best at thinking on my feet. If I have a few minutes to process, I can rise to the occasion admirably, but if action needs to be taken within a 2o second window, well, I just might get knocked on the head.

And of course, Rowan and Genevieve were delighted. Experiencing an 'earthqueg' was on their list, too.

4-year-old bucket list

We went camping with all 3 kids last weekend. OK, wait, 2 weekends ago now (sometimes it takes me a while to get back to a post hastily written and edit). It was a mixed bag, to be sure, but there were moments of absolute delight. We will do this again. Camping is a funny thing. Part of me feels like an elf, as if I ought to be wearing a woodland crown of leaves and berries. Part of me feels like I ought to have packed up my nonexistent athletic gear and my imaginary mountain bike... neither one of these is quite right, although the first one is closer...

Rowan caught a large-mouth bass, though. Amazing! At least to me...

So there's one experience the girls can check off their list. Actually two; camping was on there, too. They have quite a long list of things that they have never done. It doesn't matter to them at all that a lot of these things are not experiences that Dan or I have had either. I am loving that they have such a grand list. Here are a few:

-ride on an airplane

-ride on a motorboat

-go parachuting

-ride a camel

-go on a submarine

-ride on a space shuttle

-go on a whale sighting expedition

cheeseball post

They're round, orange, salty, crunchy, and they stain the tips of my fingers. What's not to love?

I do love cheeseballs. But this post ain't actually gonna be about cheeseballs.

When I was in high school I was in a play called "Our Town". It was my first and only foray into drama, without props, songs, or even costumes. Lately I keep thinking about one of Thornton Wilder's lines, and I only remember it because it belonged to my character.

Well, I died rather young, married, and maybe even with kids (can't quite remember). And I am reflecting on my life, revisiting the place that I lived and loved, a small quiet town. I am looking around and naming the places and things, for the sake of the audience, because, remember - no props. A tree that I especially loved, favorite spots, that sort of thing. I remember the director getting frustrated with me, as far back as auditions, because I couldn't get the gist of listing these items with any real feeling; he told me I sounded like I was reading off a grocery list.

He was so right, I just couldn't wrap my brain around it. "Do any people realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?" That was the question I asked, or something like that. And the answer was "Saints and poets maybe, they do some." I don't think you have to be a saint or a poet, to realize life though. Maybe you feel it more, the highs and lows, the beauty and the pain. But you can live your life. You can live it fully, and remember to examine the moments with appreciation. Take a mental snapshot. Feel the exquisite perfection of a funny little laugh from a child you love, or watch the clouds turn pink or gray or golden-edged. My goodness, does time ever speed by. It seems to slow down a bit, though, when you grab a few moments and squeeze them dry, drain all the sweetness and cast away the sting.

Thanks Dave Saadeh, for trying to teach me something. For teaching me something, even if it took me 17 years to learn it.