sick

I know that life is about to get easier, more fun, and a little more organized.  I just know it.

I'm honestly not feeling defeated or hopeless.  At all.  I'm quite hopful and excited, really.  I'm just kind of sick.

And it seems lately that every day is full of long obligations and appointments and responsibilities.  And the pile of clean laundry downstairs will never be folded and put away.   And the scattered toys and (possibly important) papers will never be organized and under control.  And so many things are about to change.  And all is not right in the world, and it's very evident these days.

Today, I finally had an afternoon.  And I slept it all away.  Sick.  The girls and I took 3 hour naps.  After having slept in until 8 AM!  And now, before 9 pm, I'm ready to fall asleep again.  If I can breathe enough to sleep.  The rain and thunder are perfect.  As is the Nyquil.   Hopfully the Z-pack does its magic too, so that I can be full of energy and motivation tomorrow.

I miss my Love too.  He's in Georgia tonight, and my room is too quiet.  But he comes home tomorrow.

With my pounding head and aching muscles and sore throat, I feel very un-ready for tomorrow.  But hopeful for what tomorrow will bring.

Sheesh.  I sure am whiny.

In other news....

Can you hardly wait??

packing a lunch box, and other small things.

The first time I logged into pinterest, I found this brilliant pin about lunch box ideas.

Source: wendolonia.com via Angela on Pinterest

And this.  Another of my favorite (and first) pinterest discoveries.  Perfectly packaged apple slices.

I know, I know.  When did I turn into such a suburban 'mom' who gets excited about lunch boxes?? 

Source: athomewithrealfood.blogspot.com via Angela on Pinterest

Maya loves her apple slices in her lunchbox everyday.  The multi-level appeal of this treat is so impressive to her...it's a puzzle, it's apple slices, it's a whole apple, and best of all,  the slices don't get brown.

And I immediately started packing Maya's lunches differently.  She loves all the food surprises she finds.  We were only a few weeks into the school year when her lunches were getting kind of repetitive and boring.  I'd been a little creative, I thought, but we had (more than) overdone tabouli and sunbutter sandwiches (even if they were shaped like gingerbread men).   Preparing her lunch has become something special for us both.  I write her simple little messages too, just like my Dad used to do.  At first my messages were mostly just stick people, smiles, and "i <3 U," but now that she can read just about anything, my notes are a little longer.  Communication with my daughter through written words is pretty amazing.  Every day, that twinkle in her eyes (when we share something secret and special between the two of us) seems a little older and more 'knowing'.   She is growing. Fast.  

As a mom, a wife, a teacher (really in any life-role), preparing and repairing things for people out of love has to be something joyful and purposeful and faithful (like cleaning dishes, picking up junk, sorting papers, tuning little violins, answering repeated questions, folding clothes, sorting music, sorting dirty laundry, packing lunches, making meals, ironing, etc.) ....or beautiful things like service and selflessness and gratitude and contentment morph into something ugly like martyrdom, entitlement, bitterness, self-perceived underappreciation, and boredom.  Trust me, I know.  Those little things, ways of being responsible, neat, helpful, consistent, and goal-oriented...they are big.  Each task, an important, faithful, act of love.  

  I'm not really good at this.   I'm really NOT good at this.  Instead of actually living my life and doing the small things that make it work pleasantly for myself and everyone else who lives in my house.  I long to read, to write, to learn, dream about the big things, study my French, or plan (and internet hunt for) beautiful and artistic creations....and sometimes make them, or blog about them.  

In fact, I'm avoiding some of these loving tasks (folding clothes, ironing, organizing papers, picking up junk) at the moment.  

I know I can (and usually do) get it all done in a great flourish of energy and inspiration, but I just can't seem to be consistent.  The small tasks become really big ones before I want (or am forced to) tackle them.  Sometimes I feel hopelessly incurable in this regard.  But I know I'm not.  I'm far too optomistic to accept those hopeless feelings.  I think I might need a self- intervention, though. 

So I'm pondering some resolutions, maybe even some rules for myself.  Any ideas from my more practical, responsible readers?  How do you feed the creative, philosophical, word-loving, beauty-seeking, relational, story-loving part of your soul and still manage to be a responsible human being? 

When I do "figure it all out".... I may even attempt to live by my resolutions a while before blogging about them.   That would take some discipline.  

Though....the blog therapy really works for me.  (At least I like to think it does.)

I'm off to fold laundry.  I promise.  I won't be back again until it's done.  

C.S. Lewis...in the role of "Uncle Screwtape"

Screwtape...on tape...in my car. Horrifying and funny. Makes the "real world" outside my car... seem very different. Far more poignant now than the first time I read it as a teenager.

"Aggravate that most useful human characteristic, the horror and neglect of the obvious. You must bring him to a condition in which he can practice self-examination for an hour without discovering any of those facts about himself which are perfectly clear to anyone who has ever lived in the same house with him or worked in the same office."

"Do what you will, there is going to be some benevolence, as well as some malice, in your patient's soul. The great thing is to direct the malice to his immediate neighbours whom he meets every day and to thrust his benevolence out to the remote circumference, to people he does not know. The malice thus become wholly real and the benevolence largely imaginary."

“The Enemy (God) wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour’s talents-or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall.”

“The characteristic of pains and pleasures is that they are unmistakably real, and therefore, as far as they go, give the man who feels them a touchstone of reality.”

Ingredients: 1 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined 1 tbsp olive oil 3 cloves garlic, chopped 1/4 cup white wine 14 oz can diced tomatoes, drained 1/2 cup half and half oregano salt and fresh pepper 1 tsp lemon juice 1/4 cup chopped parsley (I added fresh basil and oregano too) 8 oz angel hair pasta (whole wheat, low carb or high fiber) Directions: Boil water for pasta. Cook according to package instructions.Meanwhile, season shrimp with salt and oregano. Cook shrimp and garlic in olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat for about 2 minutes. Add tomatoes, wine, salt and pepper and cook an additional minute. Add half and half and cook 1 more minute.Add lemon juice and parsley and serve over pasta. Divide equally in 4 plates. Now that we are back into the familiar groove of school, I'm still feeling grateful and happy to be a teacher. I love summer, but I think I'd feel lucky in my job even without those three months off every year! Today was just one of those great days. I felt prepared for the day, more organized (than last year), confident in my role, and surrounded by lovable students excited to make music. Maya is loving Kindergarten. She seems to come home every day either exhausted, or incredibly (obnoxiously) hyper....and full of stories. Some stories come out immediately in the car, others just pop up over dinner, or bedtime...or days later. And some of her stories are just for me, conspiratorially whispered into my ear when Ryan is across the room. She finished her last vowel today in class. And with her mixture of Ryan's meticulous perfectionism...and my...distracted, free-spirited...creativity?....it's a challenge sometimes to get all her schoolwork done in timely manner. But, every paper she does finish looks...impeccable. So our new motto is "Do your best, but GET IT DONE!" Sometimes I have to repeat that motto again and again...for me. Just to stay on task. Between the laundry and ironing, the house-cleaning, the dinners and the dishes, the online coursework and reading and communication, the lesson planning, and school paperwork, the Kindergarten papers, and the places to be, the doctors appointments, and the pretend play, the puzzles, and the storybook reading, and the important conversations and times with friends....I get a little...off task at times, running frantically between jobs, never finishing any. And sometimes, I just end up on the couch, bewildered at where to start. Then there's always facebook! :) But this week, the crazy chaos is manageable. And quite fun. I love my new schedule. I miss the faces and the familiar routines, the musical fun, the shared history that my old teaching role provided for so many years. I will cherish my memories, and 'my kids' there forever. But I'm feeling much more settled, more rooted this year, both as a Mother and as a Strings Teacher. I love my days with just Sophie and our Tuesdays with just me and both girls. We go to ballet and gymnastics, and we play together and read and talk all day. I'm pretty lucky. And next weekend, my Love is taking me away for my belated birthday celebration. Two days and one night in Chicago alone. Just the anticipation is a perfectly delightful gift.

"Shrimp cooked with tomatoes, a touch of cream, white wine and a hint of lemon. This pasta dish is so simple to make and is ready in about 15 minutes, perfect for a weeknight meal."


That's what "Gina" said about the Angel Hair with Shrimp and Tomato Sauce, and I need as many perfect weeknight meals as I can get.

Ingredients:

• 1 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 3 cloves garlic, chopped
• 1/4 cup white wine
• 14 oz can diced tomatoes, drained
• 1/2 cup half and half
• oregano
• salt and fresh pepper
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• 1/4 cup chopped parsley (I added fresh basil and oregano too)
• 8 oz angel hair pasta (whole wheat, low carb or high fiber)

Directions:

Boil water for pasta. Cook according to package instructions.Meanwhile, season shrimp with salt and oregano. Cook shrimp and garlic in olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat for about 2 minutes. Add tomatoes, wine, salt and pepper and cook an additional minute. Add half and half and cook 1 more minute.Add lemon juice and parsley and serve over pasta. Divide equally in 4 plates.

Now that we are back into the familiar groove of school, I'm still feeling grateful and happy to be a teacher. I love summer, but I think I'd feel lucky in my job even without those three months off every year!

Today was just one of those great days. I felt prepared for the day, more organized (than last year), confident in my role, and surrounded by lovable students excited to make music.

Maya is loving Kindergarten. She seems to come home every day either exhausted, or incredibly (obnoxiously) hyper....and full of stories. Some stories come out immediately in the car, others just pop up over dinner, or bedtime...or days later. And some of her stories are just for me, conspiratorially whispered into my ear when Ryan is across the room. She finished her last vowel today in class. And with her mixture of Ryan's meticulous perfectionism...and my...distracted, free-spirited...creativity?....it's a challenge sometimes to get all her schoolwork done in timely manner. But, every paper she does finish looks...impeccable. So our new motto is "Do your best, but GET IT DONE!"


Sometimes I have to repeat that motto again and again...for me. Just to stay on task. Between the laundry and ironing, the house-cleaning, the dinners and the dishes, the online coursework and reading and communication, the lesson planning, and school paperwork, the Kindergarten papers, and the places to be, the doctors appointments, and the pretend play, the puzzles, and the storybook reading, and the important conversations and times with friends....I get a little...off task at times, running frantically between jobs, never finishing any. And sometimes, I just end up on the couch, bewildered at where to start. Then there's always facebook! :)

But this week, the crazy chaos is manageable. And quite fun. I love my new schedule. I miss the faces and the familiar routines, the musical fun, the shared history that my old teaching role provided for so many years. I will cherish my memories, and 'my kids' there forever. But I'm feeling much more settled, more rooted this year, both as a Mother and as a Strings Teacher. I love my days with just Sophie and our Tuesdays with just me and both girls. We go to ballet and gymnastics, and we play together and read and talk all day. I'm pretty lucky.

And next weekend, my Love is taking me away for my belated birthday celebration. Two days and one night in Chicago alone. Just the anticipation is a perfectly delightful gift.

Back to school.

The world seems to be suddenly spinning at a faster pace.
I think we'll settle into this new routine alright, but getting prepared is a little overwhelming at times, and I'm not quite as 'together' as I'd hoped at this point. Ahead of last year, definitely. Will I ever feel completely organized, prepared, and in control?

I just turned in my first paper of the semester. And I think my online class is going to be manageable. I had been pretending that this course would actually just disappear from my agenda this year, though I need it to have a professional teaching license. I've been dragging my feet about becoming a student again and ignoring the existence of this one last class. But one class, without driving to Lansing all week... this will be fine. And it will be over before Christmas.

Maya is heading to school this year too. Her backpack has been ready for weeks, and we're all pretty excited about Kindergarten. I'll post her first-day pictures soon!

This time of year always comes with a powerful mixture of feelings... nervous anticipation, panic, sadness in mourning the loss of summer, a bit of regret at the plans left undone, relief for the fresh start, excitement for new routine and hope for big possibilities for growth and accomplishment.

Love...

...is enduring. It isn't fragile. It is....

...patient .
(PATIENT: "longsuffering, having a 'large soul'--BIG enough to absorb insult and injury like Jesus.")


Love is kind.
(gentle, tender, affectionate. It wishes well.)

It isn't envious,
or boastful,
or arrogant,

...or rude.
(Loving means to give myself up...not ever taking something from others rashly.
Love gives graciously...even when they don't deserve it.)

Love does not insist on its own way.
It is not irritable.
It is never resentful or bitter.
It never delights in wrongdoing.
It always rejoices in truth.

~These are words that cut me deeply. All at once, they produce sorrow and regret, inspire change and hopefulness and bring awareness of my continual need to be transformed.

Mostly, I fail on this love rubric in ridiculous moments of insignificance. Finding that I am just a little bit under appreciated and slightly used, I add a few things to my secret "list of ways others have wronged me and/or those I love." And then, when I am too small to bear this burden of (insignificant) injury, I speak or act out of resentment and my own increasingly irritable mood. I suppose I'm just acting out of boredom and selfishness, when I allow my mind to discover small injuries in which to plant resentment. Sometimes the injuries are bigger, and it's easier to justify my angry list making. In those circumstances, I probably plant my bitterness a little deeper and even nurture it happily, feeling SO right in my anger. I do this destructive planting, with full knowledge... that LOVE cannot be nourished in my life, cannot grow or bear any fruit...if my heart makes room for any of these things that it 'is not.'

This "Love is not _____ List" may be one of the most practical sets of words to meditate on.

But really, my favorite words come later.
The words that help me understand just a little bit better just how wide and how long and how high is the the love of Christ...

Love
PROTECTS...

Love...
...bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.

Love never fails.

I just can't get over this beautiful picture of love
protecting,
sheltering,
building,
and holding up.

Hoping (instead of despairing).

Enduring... without end.

How ugly and small and foolish....seem all the selfish, delusions of "love" that I am so prone to run toward. How disgusting is my selfishness and pettiness, my doubt and worry... in light of this enormous and powerful picture of LOVE.

I think Paul was kind of ranting on the many ways that love (was then, and) is so often misrepresented and mistaken for cheaper versions of 'happiness' and shallow attraction to things and relationships that seem like they will satisfy. The word 'love' is even used to disguise and justify our most hurtful, self-gratifying, manipulative, destructive acts.

This misrepresentation of love, this epidemic blindness to, and distortion of love sometimes make me feel hopeless. When I look around and see too many broken things, I tend to put people and circumstances and problems into compartments in my mind that to me, are beyond the reach of love. They seem unsolvable and too ugly to be healed by love, so I try to harden my heart around them so that they don't hurt quite as much, and I am not surprised and disappointed by the destruction and loss. But no matter how I might harden my heart and forget what I know to be true....

LOVE still...

...bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.

Love never fails.

...thoughts I needed to remember from this morning's teaching from I Corinthians 13.

it's the last day

Only, I don't feel quite as sad or panicky as I thought I would.

It's the last evening of Spring Break. The girls are sleepy and tucked into their beds, rooms are neat, clothes laid out for tomorrow. I'm not quite as organized or accomplished as I thought I might be at this point in my spring break (the kitchen isn't quite put together yet, and there are random toys and some clutter in the living room, my school bag isn't quite organized for the week), but still I'm very grateful and content.

And so....a list (that doesn't even scratch the surface) of the blessings I've been grateful for in recent days...

• lazy mornings with coffee, and eggs, yorkshire pudding or pancakes, french toast...or even just an un-rushed bowl of oatmeal.
  
• the decadence of a blank schedule
  
• the time to just be
  
• conversations that Ryan and I have even been able to finish.
• time to just laugh together...and smile across the room or couch at each other.
• singing together with the girls in the evening, playing games with songs, singing parts, and trying rounds...seriously, it's a little 'von Trapp-ish' or maybe just 'Rudd-ish'...but it's been crazy fun
  
• finishing a book, actually the last book in a series (by Madeleine L'Engle, of course) I've been working on (little by little) for....four years!?!? As much as I am happy to have finished, to have the stories completed inside of me....I will miss these stories and characters, the beauty of the storytelling, the wisdom and truth in the words. Happily, all five of them are neatly stacked on my bookshelf downstairs waiting to be reread someday (and discovered by my children!).
• a God that loves me more than I begin to understand.
• a world that is full of complexity and beauty and mystery.
• love
• summer is coming
  
• long drives with windows down, schubert symphonies playing, and sleeping girls in the back seat
• ice cream
• Sophia figuring out the potty just a bit more (we had a few major successes this week)
  
• finishing another "Little House" book...The Long Winter. We read the last chapter (which was all about the arrival of spring and the relief from the near starvation and bitter cold of the long winter) sitting out on the deck in the sun, wrapped in a soft blanket, smelling the grass, listening to birds, eating apple slices. Maya and I agreed that we'd store that memory away for a long time
• making running a new habit (again)
• summer is coming
  
• open windows and billowing curtains
• rain
• a job, actually two, that I love....these make the return to the 'real world' a little easier
• getting to fall asleep and wake up next to my Love, knowing that he loves me
• waking up to little voices and big eyes peering into my face
• some new shoes
• brothers and sisters
  
• summer is coming
  
• april
• living near beautiful beaches
• almost forgetting what snow looks and feels like (well, okay..that's an exaggeration)
• a warm and lovely home full of everything I need (and lots that I don't)
  
• a rare and delightfully long late night phone conversation (full of everything and nothing, planning, and laughing) with my dearest Mandy who now lives in the same STATE (and for a few months, the same town) as me!

Sometimes these moments of realization...this overwhelming sense of joy in life...can be hard to remember. This feeling of bliss may fade quickly (as the busy week actually begins). But the truest things that bring me joy won't actually fade, only my awareness of them.

As I age (I am almost 30 now), I fear that my heart is sometimes harder, more practical, sometimes even quiet. And my racing mind silences the quiet voice of the Spirit in my heart.
The truest things that are 'deepest in my soul' are less and less what I think about and live out. And the more pressing things, the worries, and urgent obligations crowd my mind so that in the few moments that I dream, I dream of silly, fleeting, foolish things. Things that are lovely but might be shallow. And the softness, the gratitude and passion are less evident in my life.

But the people and relationships that I've been given, (my daughters and my husband most of all) show me daily what love really is. They remind me to keep my heart softer...they help me to desire more than anything, to have a heart that is not conformed and hardened by my own selfishness and the world... but is being transformed by my Loving Rescuer and Creator.

This blogging thing always borders on narcissism, or 'navel gazing', and feeds the image-conscious affirmation seeker within me. Sometimes I think I really should just get a journal. But I can't write as well (or as fast) as I can type. Blogger just does something clarifying (and good, I think) for my brain. But in recent years (since Motherhood) I've devoted less time to this outlet. So for this reason, (and in an attempt to avoid (or feed?) this narcissistic tendency)...I mostly just post pictures and simple stories from our life, so that the people we love can see them (or not-- if they understandably don't really care to know what we had for breakfast).

Yet somehow this post turned into that introspective rambling that I used to do a lot more (when I had time). But if you've read this far, you must have loads of time...or you love me enough to put up with my level of craziness. So, thanks.

waste

This artist intrigued me tonight. (Thanks Dad Corbin). Obviously, his art doesn't last long. And it makes you want to scream....knowing that such intricately carved images will just disappear, smear, blow away, be wiped clean, wasted. But he knows this as he makes every mark. And he still creates.

I think my consumerist, product focused brain can hardly comprehend such generous work being created to be wasted.

My kind of art, musical performance, was always that kind of art before recorded music became a possibility. It was something to be savored only in the moment. Created, played, a process to be a participant of... and then gone (gone except for the written score...but really that is only part of the MUSIC....right?).

This concept of waste seems alright to me when the 'product' is only mediocre, if the performance was average to good. But if I hear or play or see something flawless, precise, moving, and sublime... I am distracted from the pleasure of the moment....preoccupied by my worry... that it wasn't saved. Or at least...that maybe someone else heard it too.

Whenever I am assured that something truly great has been captured, recorded, saved...I feel such relief:
Photographs of moments, occasions, people, places. A long paper, essay, letter, blog post. Video recordings of stories, performances, life.
I treasure these things.
And I really cling to the actual objects. Desperately, sometimes. (This is why my basement is so full.)

But there is something so tragically beautiful in the process of creating something that won't last forever (like a meal for people you love). And in being wasted beauty, it is also a little more authentic and...generous somehow. It seems to be a little more like life. Most things of real beauty are cyclical and fleeting (and I don't just mean seasons, sunsets, and flowers, and youth...though I suppose they're good enough examples).

One of the most agonizing feelings for me these days is the realization that once the dishes are all clean and put away, and the laundry is folded, and the toys are organized, and the cheerios are swept (which, by the way...none of these things actually are done.)...it will all start over again. Maybe this daily struggle against futility is what made me cling to these thoughts today.
I think I need to start finding more joy in the process of life...every day.

I'm not quite ready to give up the hope that something I've created will last forever...or at least for a really long time.

I do find great pleasure in recording music. And I also delight in listening to recorded music. Both of these things make my world exceedingly more serene, exciting, intoxicating, mysterious, inspiring, complex, satisfying.... I still like the 'products' of creativity.

I'm just saying that as an artist, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a student, a follower of Jesus...I tend to forget (even though I know) that the process of creating, of fixing, of learning, of mending, of finding and making beauty....the process is sometimes the point.

I've been posting less here...

...though my life is abounding with good things to write about...new experiences and ideas, overly-wordy contemplations about who I am, stories to tell about my children. It's just that I'm...

SO. TIRED.




Each day seems to be a chaotic, loud, exhausting, hilarious, fun, draining, ever-surprising, blur of confusion that seems to climax around dinner time. As the post-nap-time hunger rises, the house-hold volume increases with either whining, defiance, or absurd silliness.

Sometimes, dinner is incredibly peaceful, and fun, filled with stories from our day, stories from the Bible, cute antics, and kind words.
But sometimes it's less 'magical.'

Either way, once our meal is over, we just plow ahead towards bed-time as fast as we possibly can...trying to... clean up the kitchen, keep Sophie from climbing the stairs or eating everything in sight, play just a little bit more, change a diaper of a less-than-willing adorable monster, do pajamas, potty-time, milk, stories, and taking turns granting/dealing-with/ignoring/providing loving discipline for the countless urgent requests from Maya-who-is-supposed-to-be-in-bed.

Then, Ryan and I usually collapse and look at each other with bewildered expressions, silently communicating our memories of quieter days.

Then, I reluctantly peel myself off the couch or the bed, put on my slippers and practice my violin in the basement. Though I have to do a lot of internal convincing to actually do this instead of going to bed, once I start, I really can't stop.

We'd never actually wish away these days. We love them. Really.
We're just tired.

I've retreated...

...somewhat from blogging my innermost feelings, thoughts, worries. It hasn't been on purpose.

It's just easier....and satisfying and fun to simply post warm, happy pictures and recollections from my best moments. To 'carefully construct' my reality into a nostalgic and beautiful scene to portray 'my world' to you....and maybe my children who may look back on these posts one day. Of course, I do want to remember those exquisite moments in all their vivid, euphoric, 'perfection'.

But Ryan sometimes teases me that he'll post about the messy kitchen, the laundry piles, the loud, chaotic evenings that seem to race towards BEDTIME in a frantic, exhausting blur....
I suppose I do need a frequent dose of reality in my blogging/archiving. :)

So tonight, I'm not just posting pictures or cute stories. I'm writing again, and attempting for the moment, to be more transparent. (If you know me, you might laugh at that aim..."to be MORE transparent"...as if I should really aspire to that end.)

Within my real world, I'm feeling worried, conflicted, frustrated. Small circumstances, relatively insignificant things said, or not said, can take so much of my joy. Even as I sit and count all the new (and old) life-giving friendships I've been given, the family that I adore, the obscenely rich lifestyle I have been allowed to lead, my fulfilling work that I enjoy, the people all over the world that I love...I can become completely overwhelmed by, immersed in such trivial worries.

But instead of just 'journaling' or venting.....or even silently worrying, I'll try to rediscover Peace.

My 'conversation' would be better directed in prayer.

O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgment, and light rises up in darkness for the godly: Grant us, in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us to do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices, and that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today felt good.

It was one of those days that was filled with moments of certainty... that what I'm doing is right. That I will survive, even grow, accomplish something...amidst the blurr and chaos that I sometimes feel exhausted by.

Today, all the daily things...the mundane tasks (dressing girls, changing diapers, washing dishes, making coffee, packing lunches, pushing my teaching cart, tuning violins, taking attendance, focusing students, starting dinner, cleaning dinner, washing dishes, changing diapers, clearing clutter), ...didn't feel quite as futile as they sometimes can.

Despite finding out 1 minute before my first class started that because of a funeral, I wouldn't have a classroom or a piano for my choir and despite having a second grader leave music class with a slightly bloody, fat lip...as a result of a new 'circle game' we tried (something like duck-duck-goose), my students seemed brilliant, charming, surprising, attentive (mostly) and sweet.

Most days, at least once, I find myself grumbling inwardly (or outwardly) about the piles of laundry that get cleared...for about an hour before piling up again; about the dishes that seem so sparkling clean and neatly stacked until the next meal time; or the crumb covered, yogurt smeared floor that sometimes gets swept 3 times a day or more and still looks messy.

Sometimes the joy, the gratitude that I have for my rich life gets clouded so easily, so quickly.
But today it was inexplicably easy to just enjoy the smiles, the silly laughter, the squeals to be chased, the focused and earnest but (honestly quite awful sounding) ensemble playing in strings today, the middle schoolers who 'wrote' and performed a five part improvisational round-song, the husband who entertained us all with "YOU MUST PAY THE RENT...." over our chile dinner, and who swept the corn bread crumbs and vacuumed the living room and the steps.

No particularly obvious reason for this day of clarity, contentment, and balance. But I'll take it.

And I'll try to remember it, because...

...tomorrow will probably be different. Things do fall apart.

maybe this summer...

...I will actually visit the farmer's market regularly and have fresh, locally grown food all the time.

...I will start a vegetable and herb garden.

...I will attempt to cook some real Indian, Greek, Italian...foods that Ryan and I love.

...I will plan for school as thoroughly as I always hope to.

...I will actually start exercising again.


Sometimes publicly posting my long-wished-for-and-oft-listed-but-never-actually-accomplished
goals helps me do something productive towards their success.

Want to come help me with my (so-far-still-imaginary) garden? I don't really know what I'm doing.

someday...

...I will learn french.
Just before Maya was born, two years ago, Ryan and I took a conversational French class at the Community College. To say that I was an (obnoxiously) eager student would be a gross understatement. I wrote down everything the teacher said, asking for clarifications constantly. Each week, I had my homework done…and more. Just for fun (and extra study) I made laminated flash cards of all the french words and phrases in our textbook with pictures I had cut-out and collected from catalogs and magazines. Whenever we went to the gym, I’d bring one of my rings of cards and study my French while I worked out on the elliptical. Which brings me to another possible entry about something I want to do… exercise.
and my french? Je regrette….C’est pathetique.

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Let There be Peace on Earth...

The months of November and December bring so much anticipation and happiness. I love singing Christmas songs with my students; decorating my house with warm lights, gold ribbon, and deep red cranberries. This time of year also gives me an excuse to spend extra time (and money--which is also fun) thinking about the people I love and trying to find thoughtful gifts to show them how much they are known and loved. I'm feeling childishly silly anticipating my brother's family coming to stay in our new house with us, my parents' house filled with many of the people I love most, all of the Corbins sitting around the Christmas tree in our red flannel pajamas...awaiting our presents and our Christmas morning feast, Bing Crosby singing 'White Christmas', burning candles, Lynn's cookies, Marianne's Finnish Coffee bread, wrapping paper and ribbon....

And this year, Christmas has also brought new joys...telling Maya the story of baby Jesus over and over again as we open the doors of our 'house' (Advent Calendar) each day, hearing her walk around the house talking about the 'babies'(always plural) the 'sheep' and the 'shep-sheps' the 'WISE' and 'Mare-mare' and 'Jose.' She particularly loves the Angel that is known as 'Do-Do' (also the name of her beloved Grandma Go-Go). I think the angel in our nativity set got her name for the song she
is always singing...."Glo----------ria, in excelsis deo...' Maya has also picked up on the Santa/ St. Nicholas Christmas themes....marching around yelling 'HO, HO, HO, Merr--.' She loves filling in the blanks as we read...
"Twas the night before __________,
and all through the ________,
not a creature was stirring,
not even a _______!
The _______ were hung
by the ______ (she thinks it's 'chin' and she points to own) with care..."

But November and December also bring a lot of chaos, stress, and extra work. I'm right in the middle of the long string of Christmas performances (and this year, I also added an overnight Choir trip last week).
This week will bring the last of the performances... Thursday night, my Elementary choir will sing, the strings will play prelude in the hall, and my High School and Middle School Choirs will perform. Saturday, the West Shore Symphony's Home for the Holidays matinee concert at the Frauenthal will end the chaos for me.

And then, peace?

There's other chaos too. Deeper, darker worries. People. I guess relationships and communities hold far greater destructive and wounding potential than responsibilities and full calendars could ever hold. Those work 'stresses' seem light and silly this year... in the shadow of so much loss and pain and disappointment around me.

But I do have hope. I think that's the point of Advent. Waiting, feeling the depth of our need. Recognizing the hopelessness... and still hoping because of Jesus.

I've been reading my last post again and again.

They aren't even my words. But somehow they sort of answer/calm my questions about myself.

Is who I am okay? Shouldn't I have done more by now with my abilities and dreams? Am I more than mediocre at anything? Why do I feel the need to make excuses for what I'm not?

Everyday I make choices to do the best with what I have at the moment, to do what's possible with what I have...knowing that if only I practiced more, prepared more, had more motivation, creative energy...I COULD do something really profound and truly great. But the dailyness of this cycle seems to confirm that maybe I'm not great...at anything.

I'm not exactly feeling bad...just trying to identify, sort-through, the feelings that seem to linger under the surface every day.

In a few minutes, I'll leave our house to join Ryan for the (what used to be our date-night) Symphony. He just called to see if it would be okay for us to have dinner afterwards at my favorite restaurant with the conductor and the guest artists.

Really. This is normal for us now. It sounds like a dream. But instead of excitement, I mostly feel intimidated, regretful. The chasm of contrast between my 'ordinaryness' as a mediocre music teacher who plays the violin (and is a bit "rusty" at the moment...or for the last 3 years) and the brilliance, success, and dilligence of these REAL musicians leaves me far more aware of my....(here it is again)...mediocrity.

But I must grow up. I must embrace my inadequacies, my vulnerability... How did she put it?
"unafraid to be vulnerable, involved, committed, to accept disagreement without feeling threatened (repeat and underline this one), to understand that I cannot take myself seriously until I stop taking myself seriously--to be, in fact, a true adult."

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts...the words of Christ dwell in you richly. And be thankful. (Colossians)

So off I go.

wishing I wasn't 'the rich young ruler'

Poverty is so hard to see
When it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across town.
Where we’re all living so good
that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood.
Where He’s hungry and not feeling so good
from going through our trash.
He says, more than just your cash and coin,
I want your time, i want your voice.

I want the things you just can’t give me.


So what must we do?
Here in the west we want to follow You.
We speak the language and we keep all the rules...
even a few we made up.
Come on and follow me,
but sell your house, sell your SUV
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poor.
What is this?, Hey what’s the deal?
I don’t sleep around, and I don’t steal.

I want the things you just can’t give me


Because what you do to the least of these
my brothers, you have done it to me.

Because I want the things you just can’t give me.

-The Rich Young Ruler by Derek Webb

And despite the simplicity of the truth, I'm left feeling conflicted.

I really do love people deeply, and most of the time, generosity is an inherent response (though my motives aren't always innocent). My heart is ridiculously soft, pliable, sensitive, compassionate. But my unweildy pride and greed (thinly disguised as good and honest hopes, dreams, ambitions, plans) have grown up around it...twisting and intertwining like gnarled roots. They somehow convince me to just not care. To pretend to be ignorant to the depths of the poverty around me, to justify my choices by comparisons.

I really like to be known as a person that cares about social justice. To be 'all about' peace and love and anti- consumerism, materialism, and corporate america, and Western values that promote self advancement...at any cost. But to be completely honest, I spend so much of my time imagining an even better life for myself... time and money to travel, a bigger house with more space to entertain, a 'study' with room for all our books to be stored in elegant book cases, dressers for our bedroom made of real wood, a dining room set with matching chairs (instead of our hand-me down, wobbly table, and chairs the wrong color....poor me, right?), a porch, a fireplace, a whirlpool tub, a washer and dryer like the ones all the cool people have...(I'm already feeling that familiar buzz of pleasure just imagining it all again...) There are uglier ways to put it. When I'm altogether truthful, I'll call it covetousness, greed, lust.

At a dinner party once, Jesus said to his hosts, "You are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside you are filthy--full of greed and wickedness! Fools! Didn't God make the inside as well as the outside? So clean the inside by giving gifts to the poor, and you will be clean all over."

I can do that...I give gifts to the poor. Pretty generous ones (...I like to tell myself). But they're still gifts that don't really hurt, or stretch my budget. Ones that allow me to maintain (maybe even upgrade from time to time) my lifestyle.

And to someone else with a similar fortune to mine, He said, "There is still one thing you haven't done. Sell all your posessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come follow me."

"...I want the things you just can't give Me."

a perfect Christmas concert for children...

Horse drawn sleigh rides through the downtown,
Christmas ornament decorating,
the West Shore Symphony Orchestra,
orchestra conducting lessons from a real conductor,
a chance to try all the musical instruments of the symphony...an "Instrument Petting Zoo!"



The West Shore Symphony Orchestra's "Family Traditions" pre-concert event
1:00-2:45pm, before the 3:00pm Matinee on Dec. 16th
Specially priced main floor reserved seating and holiday activities for the whole family!




Special Matinee Offer...
BUY ONE TICKET,
GET ONE FREE!
ALL REMAINING
REGULAR PRICED SEATS,
MATINEE ONLY!

For more information call 231-726-3231 or visit www.wsso.org.
Tickets are available at the Frauenthal Box Office, or at Star Tickets Plus Outlets, online at www.starticketsplus.com, or by calling 800-585-3737. Ticket prices are $14-$41 with discounts for students, seniors, and groups.

Snow Day

My school is closed.

We were planning to stay home anyways. Maya and I were, that is. We both wish 'Daddy' could be home too.

We're feeling very tucked-in and sheltered from the blustery scene outside our window. Days at home without a mile long to-do list are always refreshing. But the icy wonderland outside and the mountain of snow in our driveway make our quiet warm house seem even more serene.

Tomorrow will be filled with activity...accompanying a viola student at Solo & Ensemble, conducting my string ensembles in their Christmas Concert at the Art Museum, visiting Barnes & Noble to hear a student String Quartet, and dinner with friends.

But today, ethereal Christmas music sung by choirs in far away cathedrals has been floating through our house all day (compliments of our beloved Pandora Radio).

And we're basking in the pleasure of... a new story book from Great Grandma Corbin (with Maya's own hand-crocheted mitten), hazelnut coffee, warm baths (one for each of us), restful reading, the scent of clean laundry,...







...and Maya's first Christmas tree.

'Tis the Season

A month of performances...

...tomorrow I'm taking my High School String Quintet to the Art Museum to play Christmas music for the "Festival of Trees"

...Thursday, I'm being observed by our Assistant Superintendent

...Saturday, all of my String Ensembles are giving a 12:00 Christmas Concert at the Muskegon Museum of Art..after I accompany one of my viola students at Solo & Ensemble in the morning

...next Tuesday, I'm taking my Middle and High School Choirs to sing Christmas Carols at the Hume Home

...Tuesday, Dec. 12th, my HS Choir is singing at a dinner for brain injury victims downtown Muskegon.

...and Thursday, Dec. 14th, all of my musical groups (K-4th music classes, Strings students, Middle & High School Choirs) have the Calvary Christian School Christmas Concert...

..and Saturday, Dec. 16th, Ryan and I are volunteering at the West Shore Symphony's "Home for the Holidays" Christmas Event

Somewhere in the next few weeks....I'll finish Christmas shopping, enjoy every day with Maya, focus my heart on the hope of Advent, prepare my mind and spirit for Christmas...and the peace that it brings.

...and I'll be dreaming of Christmas break, of hot baths & hot chocolate, finishing a book or two, sleeping by the Christmas tree, evening conversations with family, and days with Maya.

It's time....right?

Maybe this weekend....