March supposedly has ides. I'm not sure what they are, but this May has been something. I can't quite find the perfect word for it. I'd like it to end, but I know we need to get through it all, so wanting it over isn't quite helpful when the process is as much a part of the finish line as the end itself.
Sigh.
Gillette Children's Hospital. 10am-12pm. Emma Kate and me.
We went in with one cast and one wrap and came out with one cast and one sort of wrap.
Her fingers on her left hand look marvelous. Truly marvelous.
Emma, however, begs to differ. Healing isn't always pretty, and stitches and scars take time to fade.
Teary eyes met mine.
"Mom, I look creepy".
I so wish I could just take her heartache and hold it in my heart. That hers would simply go away. But that kind of framing is going to need to be hers. A part of Emma's journey is going to be learning to decide what it means to like who she is and how she was hand-crafted by the King of Kings who does, indeed, do all things well.
"We did this surgery so your hands would look more normal" her surgeon gently shared.
And I flame mad. Inside.
Her hands ARE normal, and they do look normal. Whose to say what normal is, and our society has so many problems, issues and idols with that term. The desire to be so "normal" and look just like everyone else makes us creatures of the abnormal in Kingdom terms.
Every society struggles with "normal" in one way or another when we make agreements with what beautiful is. Bound feet, breast augmentation, liposuction, a tan, pale skin, long necks, elongated earlobes. It is so easy to look at another culture's idea of beauty and see the idol for what it is. It is harder to see our own.
And layer on the rainbow of differences with which the Lord made us, and watch the wrestling match grow. In my heart, too.
And thusly a verbal wrestling match ensues, wherein I gently reframe that statement for Emma, whose eyes are now huge with horror that a doctor just told her that her hands were not normal before.
(And note to readers, we like this doctor's work immensely. She has been nothing but kind to Emma. No bashing of her, please. This is simply differences of worldview playing out in real life, and a doctor thinking she is giving our daughter permission to have real feelings about her hands. We agree on one level and hold a tremendously different view altogether on another level. Our doctor thinks, I'm sure, that we are loons, too. She almost fell off her stool when I said that God made Emma with respect and wonder when He crafted her.).
"Emma, you are not creepy. You might think the stitches look creepy, but that is different than saying you are creepy. You are not creepy, you are a lovely, beautiful, darling little girl," says me, her mom.
May I add a, "thus sayeth the Lord". AMEN? Amen.
I'm weary.
That's an aside. My heart hurts for Emma, and the place she is navigating as a seven year old. I know this is all a part of how the Lord will use how He made her for GOOD. For hope. For her future. And yet there is simply that tender momma place that aches for my daughter's sadness.
Peanut butter and jelly in the car on the way home was a welcome distraction and treat for my beauty-girl.
Next up, Nurse Nightingale is meant to soak her hand in warm water and work the stitches out and off with a wash cloth.
Help me. I think I'm waiting for tonight when Jim is home. Puddle of tears it would be this afternoon.
So my synopsis of today would be: weary mom and sad girl held securely in the hands of a faithful Father God who meets our very real needs of fragile feelings and tired hearts.
He is faithful. He is always faithful.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Emma update
It's May and I'm barely afloat. Silent blog.
I just sent out an email missive about Miss Emma's surgery, and thought I'd at least put it up here.
Good morning! I'm sending off a little Emma report now that we are a few days post-surgery and the haze is wearing off! For some of you (Emma's teachers!) this update may be more than you bargained for, but while I have a moment I wanted to send off a note to give everyone an update.
I just sent out an email missive about Miss Emma's surgery, and thought I'd at least put it up here.
Good morning! I'm sending off a little Emma report now that we are a few days post-surgery and the haze is wearing off! For some of you (Emma's teachers!) this update may be more than you bargained for, but while I have a moment I wanted to send off a note to give everyone an update.
First of all, thank you all for your prayers. Surgery went well on both hands and the doctor feels that the damage done to her right hand by the infection that occurred last year after her hand surgery has been amended and repaired. We ended up doing a bit more work on her left hand than we intended to, and the end result will be beautiful. Jim realized amending her left fourth finger would allow an engagement ring to sit beautifully on her hand someday, which ceased all discussion around changing or leaving that finger and rendered us all speechless, teary and willing. So fourth finger now ready for the day that some blessed young man might claim her as his bride and pledge his troth to our beloved daughter. That, and playing piano just got a whole lot easier. :)
Emma's pain level these first days was managed with oxy-contin, and made for an interesting experience. She has experienced managed pain, for sure, and been either esctatic with love, "Oh, you are my most wonderful rainbow heart dad. I love you so much. My best father ever I want to hug your arm and kiss you", or vaguely suspicious and fearful with things like, "why are you touching me? Do you want to cut off my arm and kill me?" when we adjust her shirt sleeve or pat her arm. Interesting, to say the least. And now we have bid oxy-contin adieu. Tylenol in frequent doses is keeping the pain at bay. Thankfully.
We go next Tuesday to Gillette's and Dr. Van Heest will remove the wrap on her left hand. Hopefully it will not be re-wrapped, and while fragile for a few more days will have Emma well on her way to returning to school! Her left-handedness is showing its superiority (types her left-handed mother). :) The cast is slated to remain on her arm for a month. We shall see...
I have been Emma's sidekick, and we are finding great fun together. God seems to keep turning recovery into sweet bonding time, and having to rely on a mom for every single need and then some has been truly delightful for both of us. Sweet Emma takes so much in stride, and is so dear. It really is a selfish treat to have these days with her. Yesterday we ventured out in the afternoon to have ice cream at Sebastian Joe's for lunch (okay, we'd had an early lunch, and I made it sound like the ultimate adventure by framing the lunch as ice cream and the real food as a snack; it's all PR, people!) and take a mini-stroll along Lake Harriet. We rescued 2 caterpillars and were hissed at by a Papa Goose, to Emma's great consternation. Sunfish were out in the lake and we sat in the sun for awhile and chatted, enjoying time painfree and outside!
My mom is coming up on Thursday so that I can go to bible study and get my phone fixed. And on Friday I gave Anna the day off to accompany us on a girls outing to Como Zoo with a picnic lunch afterward. That will be a good thing to look forward to! If it rains, we will move to plan B2.
As all of this has transpired, Jim and I have remained in awe of the Lord's provision for Emma and for us. On Friday, I was afraid for Emma and the pain of recovery and also so mindful of the plenty and unmerited mercy of the surgery. We live in a place where this kind of medical treatment is available, and we can give it to her. For so many people in the world, this is not true, and my heart was so aware of this truth as we prepared Emma for surgery. These are gifts from the Lord, and we are profoundly humbled that we are the ones He selected to be parents to the treasure of Emma and given the additional wonder of being part of her healing and physical restoration. What a true and utter blessing. I would not have missed a second of this for anything, and I had no idea about the joy of any of it before her. Isn't it just like the Lord to give us so much more than all we could ask for or imagine when we are still completely unaware of the fullness of what a "yes" means. I'm so grateful to belong to the King.
Thank you for walking alongside us and loving Emma with us. She would call you all rainbow hearts, too!
Love,
Sara and Jim
Friday, April 13, 2012
fritag
I thought it was Monday, but we'd already whizzed by Wednesday and Thursday was quickly becoming a blur into the past.
Oh, my stars. It is Friday!
One of those weeks that flew in and dashed out just as quickly.
We came home from our spring break to a dead refrigerator, a burst pipe in the basement and one recovering from the flu child while another was going down fast and hard. Maybe that is why the week has sped by?
In any case, it is now almost the sunny, pretty, blue-skied, flower-poking-up, yard-ready-to-rake, fire pit-awaits, pansy-planting weekend.
Spring!
Here in Minnesota we spring right into summer. And for this weekend, I'm so excited to savor and delight in our spring.
Oh, dear yard...here we come!
Oh, my stars. It is Friday!
One of those weeks that flew in and dashed out just as quickly.
We came home from our spring break to a dead refrigerator, a burst pipe in the basement and one recovering from the flu child while another was going down fast and hard. Maybe that is why the week has sped by?
In any case, it is now almost the sunny, pretty, blue-skied, flower-poking-up, yard-ready-to-rake, fire pit-awaits, pansy-planting weekend.
Spring!
Here in Minnesota we spring right into summer. And for this weekend, I'm so excited to savor and delight in our spring.
Oh, dear yard...here we come!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
harvest!
And God's people? Oh, my lands.
$29,000 in less than a day has been raised. Not just for her, but for the other children in the orphanage, too.
The Lord is going to rescue a remnant and display His glory and His goodness through the faithful hearts and willing hands of His people.
Family. He sets the lonely in families, and makes of families room in their lonely hearts that felt full for another.
So in awe. In awe of His immeasurable goodness, His provision, His mercy, compassion and abiding love. So astonished to watch beauty unfold from ashes. To see the oil of gladness pour out on one so needing and a family so willing.
For such a day as yesterday, I have to imagine the heavens resounding with joyful noise as rejoicing raised the roof and the rescue of a single lamb brought the very King to the edge of His throne in delight and gladness.
"The Lord your God is with you! HE is MIGHTY to save. He takes GREAT joy and delight in you. He dances over you and sings songs of gladness as on a day of festival." - Zephaniah 3:17
Watched that verse walked out in real life, jumping from the pages of the Word in to the world of the Word. God here and now. God active and VERY much alive.
Oh, glory.
The image of a harvest of beauty and plenty filled my thoughts today. Arms laden, the Salem's come bearing a harvest of righteousness and true and lasting treasure.
SO blessed to watch this unfold and be the smallest of smallest in helping them bring their beauty home to lodge not just in their hearts but in their home, too.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
eyes open
I read often a blog that stirs my heart and stretches me. I've learned so very much from Adeye. During our journey to our Emma Kate, her posts often confirmed what I was needing to think, and wanting to feel.
About a month ago she wrote a post about children in an orphanage called Pleven. It was one of those times I didn't want to read what I'd read. Didn't want to because once God opens our eyes we are accountable. It was ugly. The ugliest of the ugly how these children are kept. Fallen world. Wretched, sinful man. And I mean that as a corporate condemnation of all of us. Even those of us learning to live with our eyes wide open.
"...once our eyes are opened, we can't pretend we don't know what to do. God, who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls, knows that we know, and holds us responsible to act."
Proverbs 24:12
Please head over and read this post from Adeye this morning, and consider being part of God's rescue.
Super simple to help. And by help I mean really and truly help. Any small amount. We did.
Here is the link:
http://www.nogreaterjoymom.com/2012/04/because-this-life-matters.html
And here is Faith:
She's 14. She weighs 14 pounds. She's never known love.
And soon she will.
Faith Salem, she will be. I'll bet no one has guessed all these years they've been housing a princess? A daughter not only of the King, but also a daughter of a family who will love her big and long and always. She is already treasured, precious, wanted, needed, sought after, longed for, prayed over, and beloved.
Faith Salem, I can't wait to see you home.
About a month ago she wrote a post about children in an orphanage called Pleven. It was one of those times I didn't want to read what I'd read. Didn't want to because once God opens our eyes we are accountable. It was ugly. The ugliest of the ugly how these children are kept. Fallen world. Wretched, sinful man. And I mean that as a corporate condemnation of all of us. Even those of us learning to live with our eyes wide open.
"...once our eyes are opened, we can't pretend we don't know what to do. God, who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls, knows that we know, and holds us responsible to act."
Proverbs 24:12
Please head over and read this post from Adeye this morning, and consider being part of God's rescue.
Super simple to help. And by help I mean really and truly help. Any small amount. We did.
Here is the link:
http://www.nogreaterjoymom.com/2012/04/because-this-life-matters.html
And here is Faith:
She's 14. She weighs 14 pounds. She's never known love.
And soon she will.
Faith Salem, she will be. I'll bet no one has guessed all these years they've been housing a princess? A daughter not only of the King, but also a daughter of a family who will love her big and long and always. She is already treasured, precious, wanted, needed, sought after, longed for, prayed over, and beloved.
Faith Salem, I can't wait to see you home.
Monday, April 9, 2012
the words she's waited for
When I was younger, I'd read in dim light. Loved it. Crystal clear the words ran across the page.
"You will ruin your eyes, Sara," my mother intoned, day after night after day.
I read a lot.
At night.
A lot being hours upon hours. Until 11 with my light on, and afterward under covers with a flashlight.
Smart cookie, was I.
Now a days...
I'm the one.
Ever laugh at yourself because you are your mother or father? Words leak out and it sounds like you when they are thought but as they whisk away from your mouth to the air...it's another.
"Cooper, may I please turn up this light?"
You know what I realized? He can see...it's me who can't!
Me, who valiantly and vainly tried to fail a vision test to decorate myself with glasses (hey, it was 7th grade and I was in an awkward stage).
Me, who always yearned for spectacles. They make a blond girl look smarter, right?
Well. My time has come. My ship has reached safe harbor.
Good thing there's good lighting in my ship's mooring. I can't read at night anymore without getting so
s o s o tired. And words kind of slide off the page.
Yep. I need the readers now. And like any good girl, now that I need 'em I don't really want them.
But I also find now that I am sounding like my Maman. Surely she must have needed readers when she implored me to turn my light up or off.
This midlife stuff is silly. But it is also sort of fun to hear my mom in me. I like her a lot, after all. If I have to sound like someone, she's a good someone to resemble.
My middle name is Ann.
:)
Mom, I turn my lights way up now. And I can assure you I'm not reading past 11pm. Promise. Cross my heart.
"You will ruin your eyes, Sara," my mother intoned, day after night after day.
I read a lot.
At night.
A lot being hours upon hours. Until 11 with my light on, and afterward under covers with a flashlight.
Smart cookie, was I.
Now a days...
I'm the one.
Ever laugh at yourself because you are your mother or father? Words leak out and it sounds like you when they are thought but as they whisk away from your mouth to the air...it's another.
"Cooper, may I please turn up this light?"
You know what I realized? He can see...it's me who can't!
Me, who valiantly and vainly tried to fail a vision test to decorate myself with glasses (hey, it was 7th grade and I was in an awkward stage).
Me, who always yearned for spectacles. They make a blond girl look smarter, right?
Well. My time has come. My ship has reached safe harbor.
Good thing there's good lighting in my ship's mooring. I can't read at night anymore without getting so
s o s o tired. And words kind of slide off the page.
Yep. I need the readers now. And like any good girl, now that I need 'em I don't really want them.
But I also find now that I am sounding like my Maman. Surely she must have needed readers when she implored me to turn my light up or off.
This midlife stuff is silly. But it is also sort of fun to hear my mom in me. I like her a lot, after all. If I have to sound like someone, she's a good someone to resemble.
My middle name is Ann.
:)
Mom, I turn my lights way up now. And I can assure you I'm not reading past 11pm. Promise. Cross my heart.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
'zona!
We are headed to Arizona!
Off to see Gogo and Pa!
c a n n o t wait.
Nothing left here to do but throw everything in our bags and head out the door.
House cleaned, laundry done. Check, check.
So I'm making grilled pesto salmon and asparagus with goat cheese for dinner. Because nothing says spring like salmon and asparagus. Yummmmmmmmm.
Jim should be home anytime, and then we are ALL on spring break. It is the perfect time to get away and "check out" for a week. We are very ready to relax, unwind and rejuvenate together.
A special treat this year is that my dear friend from growing up, Cori, will be there with her family visiting her parents. I am very much looking forward to some precious time catching up with her and all the Zdebels.
We anticipate lots of pool time, many a hike, home-squeezed grapefruit juice galore, some horseback riding, boy mountain bike rides, a Passover seder meal, visiting mom and dad's church, sleeping in, reading books (we hit the library today!), playing games, the annual Olympics, and being all together in once place for an entire week. A slice of heaven here.
So off we go to see spring arise in desert-land. Can't wait to see you, Mom and Dad!
Off to see Gogo and Pa!
c a n n o t wait.
Nothing left here to do but throw everything in our bags and head out the door.
House cleaned, laundry done. Check, check.
So I'm making grilled pesto salmon and asparagus with goat cheese for dinner. Because nothing says spring like salmon and asparagus. Yummmmmmmmm.
Jim should be home anytime, and then we are ALL on spring break. It is the perfect time to get away and "check out" for a week. We are very ready to relax, unwind and rejuvenate together.
A special treat this year is that my dear friend from growing up, Cori, will be there with her family visiting her parents. I am very much looking forward to some precious time catching up with her and all the Zdebels.
We anticipate lots of pool time, many a hike, home-squeezed grapefruit juice galore, some horseback riding, boy mountain bike rides, a Passover seder meal, visiting mom and dad's church, sleeping in, reading books (we hit the library today!), playing games, the annual Olympics, and being all together in once place for an entire week. A slice of heaven here.
So off we go to see spring arise in desert-land. Can't wait to see you, Mom and Dad!
Thursday, March 29, 2012
The Lord has done great things for us
psalm 126:3
He is good. He is always good.
and we are filled with joy.
Because of the works of His hands, we are what we are and I am who I am.
Completion comes from walking in the places He desired and ordains.
Some high and hard, some vast and bountiful.
And they all have mattered.
Oh, Jehovah! You are so marvelous.
I am truly filled with joy in You.
Spurgeon writes in his book, "The Treasury of David" about his psalm and says in part,
Let us avow our joy, and the reason of it, stating the "whereof" as well as the fact. None are so happy as those who arc newly turned and returned from captivity; none can more promptly and satisfactorily give a reason for the gladness that is in them, the Lord himself has blessed us, blessed us greatly, blessed us individually, blessed assuredly; and because of this we sing unto his name.
Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy
carrying sheaves with them.
-psalm 126:6
Sheaves of joy!
A harvest reaped after being sown in tears.
Isn't that amazing?
Spurgeon expounds on this verse writing,
Hence, present distress must not be viewed as if it would last for ever; it is not the end, by any means, but only a means to the end. Sorrow is our sowing, rejoicing shall be our reaping. If there were no sowing in tears there would be no reaping in joy. If we were never captives we could never lead our captivity captive. Our mouth had never been filled with holy laughter if it had not been first filled with the bitterness of grief. We must sow: we may have to sow in the wet weather of sorrow; but we shall reap, and reap in the bright summer season of joy. Let us keep to the work of this present sowing time, and find strength in the promise which is here so positively given us.
If we were never captive we would never lead our captivity captive...
That line made me stop.
Leading my captivity captive.
Oh, Lord. Let it be so!
Arms heavy-laden with sheaves.
A bountiful harvest.
Not just one.
Many.
For some reason, when the Lord worked this psalm in my heart,
I always pictured lavender sheaves.
Not sure why, it's just the beautiful picture He gave me.
The last verse is exposited thusly by Spurgeon:
Yes, good husbandman, doubtless you will gather sheaves from your sowing. Because the Lord has written doubtless, take heed that you do not doubt. No reason for doubt can remain after the Lord has spoken. You will return to this field—not to sow, but to reap; not to weep, but to rejoice; and after awhile you will go home again with nimbler step than today, though with a heavier load, for you shall have sheaves to bear with you. Your handful shall be so greatly multiplied that many sheaves shall spring from it; and you shall have the pleasure of reaping them and bringing them home to the place from which you went out weeping.
I want to R U N
through the field to my Father,
shouting my songs of joy,
gaping in awe at the harvest because of my good and faithful God.
He is good.
Always.
In everything.
Monday, March 26, 2012
shiny
I cleaned part of the house today.
And then laid on the floor with my back all twingey and funny.
Alternately grinning like a fool that 40 has wrought such changes as this, and having a bit of an ol' pity party.
36 and rainy didn't help matters.
And since I've given up cheese and bread these days, neither did my yearning hunger for a grilled cheese.
I settled for a drive down the creek. You know, move on out when settling into the mood is working too well. It worked wonders.
Drove ALL THE WAY down that creek from over near Penn to 35. CBA, I drove by your first house and smiled. Then wanted to lay down on the ground a have a little cry.
Good memories.
Good times.
So, my house has parts of it that are shiny and sparkly. Just not all.
Tomorrow a new day. And I must tackle the floors. My kitchen, you ask? Unspeakable. The girls have been cooking. Enough said. Oh, the girly girls. Mayhem and flying flour.
Aren't you glad to know my monotony. I've got nothing else. And this must suffice.
I think I might need the "quiet old lady whispering hush" tonight. :)
Gogo, you aren't old enough and your room isn't green, but you could say that to me. Or hand me a red balloon. That's cheerful.
Over.
Out.
And then laid on the floor with my back all twingey and funny.
Alternately grinning like a fool that 40 has wrought such changes as this, and having a bit of an ol' pity party.
36 and rainy didn't help matters.
And since I've given up cheese and bread these days, neither did my yearning hunger for a grilled cheese.
I settled for a drive down the creek. You know, move on out when settling into the mood is working too well. It worked wonders.
Drove ALL THE WAY down that creek from over near Penn to 35. CBA, I drove by your first house and smiled. Then wanted to lay down on the ground a have a little cry.
Good memories.
Good times.
So, my house has parts of it that are shiny and sparkly. Just not all.
Tomorrow a new day. And I must tackle the floors. My kitchen, you ask? Unspeakable. The girls have been cooking. Enough said. Oh, the girly girls. Mayhem and flying flour.
Aren't you glad to know my monotony. I've got nothing else. And this must suffice.
I think I might need the "quiet old lady whispering hush" tonight. :)
Gogo, you aren't old enough and your room isn't green, but you could say that to me. Or hand me a red balloon. That's cheerful.
Over.
Out.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
mermaid moves up!
Emma Kate is back in swimming lessons again!
It has been a year (leaving out regular old swimming-for-fun in summer) and she's built some great muscle and core strength. That translates to being able to kick (I'm actually smiling as I write that).
Kicking: we were s l o w e r than molasses last year. It was kick-pause-sink-kick-teacher rescue-repeat.
EK Just didn't have the strength in her stomach to get those legs a-going. But now she's a new creation! The mermaid has kick power!
Her teachers moved her up an entire level, to the joy of her watching and cheering father. It was really fun to get the report when they returned from the first lesson!
I was shepherding a slew of teenage long-boarders to and from great skating hills with their Go-Pro along with a trio of pre-teenage youngsters who managed to find the park by the lake still a fun venue.
Yesterday was GORGEOUS outside. So sunny and warm.
Made me feel like that!
2 garden beds are uncovered (I know, I know...such impulsivity). I might regret that. For now, however, it was soooo satisfying. There's beautiful green sprouting up.
Jeb muscled five deader than dead arborvitae out of the ground. Can you say firepit? We're going wild and are going to burn them today. It's big. :)
A relaxing weekend all in all. Sunday brings sabbath rest and that is just what we are going to attempt. Spring doesn't look like she's resting, but she sure is growing beautifully. Makes it easy to sit back and watch!
Welcome, spring! You are a lovely girl.
It has been a year (leaving out regular old swimming-for-fun in summer) and she's built some great muscle and core strength. That translates to being able to kick (I'm actually smiling as I write that).
Kicking: we were s l o w e r than molasses last year. It was kick-pause-sink-kick-teacher rescue-repeat.
EK Just didn't have the strength in her stomach to get those legs a-going. But now she's a new creation! The mermaid has kick power!
Her teachers moved her up an entire level, to the joy of her watching and cheering father. It was really fun to get the report when they returned from the first lesson!
I was shepherding a slew of teenage long-boarders to and from great skating hills with their Go-Pro along with a trio of pre-teenage youngsters who managed to find the park by the lake still a fun venue.
Yesterday was GORGEOUS outside. So sunny and warm.
2 garden beds are uncovered (I know, I know...such impulsivity). I might regret that. For now, however, it was soooo satisfying. There's beautiful green sprouting up.
Soon there will be a concerto of daffodils along Minnehaha Creek. It is so breathtakingly pretty. I can't wait to stroll one afternoon.
Jeb muscled five deader than dead arborvitae out of the ground. Can you say firepit? We're going wild and are going to burn them today. It's big. :)
A relaxing weekend all in all. Sunday brings sabbath rest and that is just what we are going to attempt. Spring doesn't look like she's resting, but she sure is growing beautifully. Makes it easy to sit back and watch!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
whoa, nellie
This week is flying.
Why is that news to me?
Thursday doesn't have many songs written about her. Poor girl. I think she's over-shadowed by Friday's end-of-week glory. And Wednesday makes the world hopeful for two days later.
Thursday is a bit like November to me.
But she's a stunner, nonetheless.
I think I'd like to be a November or a Thursday, really. The quieter one who is so pretty on the inside outside and when you pay attention: whoa!
I'm not really quiet, though. Sort of like I don't have curly hair either.
November would be smart enough to like herself no matter her falling in the months. Thursday would know she's placed just right, I think!
Wow. Where did that all come from? 5am is truly my friend.
The week is spinning to a close, and tomorrow is a big day! JEB TURNS 14!
We measured ourselves in the mirror the other night while Luke stood by for the required commentary. I'm b a r e l y hanging on as taller. And my shoulders are way waaayyy w a y slimmer than Jeb's. It is so amazing to watch your son turn into a young man. The physical changes are astonishing. And fun! And the inner work going on is breathtaking.
My Jeb is such a special guy. He's a joy-bringer. So blessed to have him as our son.
Where did 14 years go? He was just a wee one smiling in his first moments...
Thursday, November, 14, Jeb. See that progression?
Totally makes sense. :)
Why is that news to me?
Thursday doesn't have many songs written about her. Poor girl. I think she's over-shadowed by Friday's end-of-week glory. And Wednesday makes the world hopeful for two days later.
Thursday is a bit like November to me.
But she's a stunner, nonetheless.
I think I'd like to be a November or a Thursday, really. The quieter one who is so pretty on the inside outside and when you pay attention: whoa!
I'm not really quiet, though. Sort of like I don't have curly hair either.
November would be smart enough to like herself no matter her falling in the months. Thursday would know she's placed just right, I think!
Wow. Where did that all come from? 5am is truly my friend.
The week is spinning to a close, and tomorrow is a big day! JEB TURNS 14!
We measured ourselves in the mirror the other night while Luke stood by for the required commentary. I'm b a r e l y hanging on as taller. And my shoulders are way waaayyy w a y slimmer than Jeb's. It is so amazing to watch your son turn into a young man. The physical changes are astonishing. And fun! And the inner work going on is breathtaking.
My Jeb is such a special guy. He's a joy-bringer. So blessed to have him as our son.
Where did 14 years go? He was just a wee one smiling in his first moments...
Thursday, November, 14, Jeb. See that progression?
Totally makes sense. :)
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
people
"In China I didn't have people," she whispered into the hush of bedtime.
Words of palpable weight. The air hung heavy and her eyes filled with a quiet and heartbreaking yearning.
"But now you are my people. I always want to be here with you because you are my people," she finished.
Kisses on tear-stined hair and the fierceness of a hug transferring the whole entirety of love from a heart.
Emma putting words to her joy and her pain.
She waited five and a half years. For people.
Emma Kate, we are your people, and you are ours.
God always knew, even when we did not. Our family was always "people"; just now we know each other face to face and heart to heart. Blessed be.
Words of palpable weight. The air hung heavy and her eyes filled with a quiet and heartbreaking yearning.
"But now you are my people. I always want to be here with you because you are my people," she finished.
Kisses on tear-stined hair and the fierceness of a hug transferring the whole entirety of love from a heart.
Emma putting words to her joy and her pain.
She waited five and a half years. For people.
Emma Kate, we are your people, and you are ours.
God always knew, even when we did not. Our family was always "people"; just now we know each other face to face and heart to heart. Blessed be.
| |||
Monday, March 19, 2012
hello again, it's been a long, long time
Spring is sprung in the hinterlands!
With it I have a fresh bit of energy and finally feel like it is time to start blogging again.
Winter hiatus over, I hope.
New blog name, new blog design. It felt time to shift the name from being a blog mostly about bringing Emma home and enfolding her into our family to one that reflected us as a whole. God surely used the year we brought Emma Kate home to show us how to have plenty in all things.
Plenty of Him.
His strength. His courage. His fortitude.
His hope. His peace. His love.
His plenty poured out, and us gushing forth a river of goodness from hearts so well watered by His grace. In the midst of much hardship, we truly could declare we had plenty.
And God brought wholeness and joy.
It is from that place, and others from years past, that I can truly declare that we are works in progress, learning what it is to be content in all things. God has given us seasons of great plenty, and seasons of plenty in the midst of gaping pain and vast wants. He has always been faithful.
He is our plenty.
And in Him we can rest and cease our striving and worry, our work-hard and try-hard lives. We work hard and we try hard, but somehow it all ravels itself differently when done with Him.
So here we go again. Emma Kate is home, and so are we all together with Him. Home.
We have plenty because we have the Lord.
Now we learn to live that out, day by glorious day.
So glad you stopped by again. I've missed writing and missed connecting via the blog. It's good to be back. :)
Friday, November 4, 2011
napkin thief:: Emma funny
I've been absent. Four kids in a new school and taking on a volunteer role in Love Without Boundaries where I help coordinate the school that is run in the orphanage, has taken up all my time. And I miss sharing updates. So here is a quick, funny story!
We use cloth napkins for dinner, most of the time. After Emma had been home for awhile, I noticed her throwing a cloth napkin out into the garbage after dinner. This makes sense because we throw out paper napkins when we use them, right?
Right.
Around that time, I also noticed that I was missing a number of my napkins. And I just chalked it up to not noticing Emma throwing out cloth ones for some time. But that also took us down to just a set or two of matching cloth napkins.
No tragedy, we mix and match!
Well...
We are having dinner guests tonight. An awesome young couple from church. Steve also is Cooper's small group leader in youth group, and we could not be happier Cooper is being shepherded in his growing faith by such a grounded, strong man of God. Steve is amazing. He is courting an exually lovely young lady, Lindsay. And they are coming for dinner. Steve has taken Luke under his wing, also. And Luke and Steve connect over sports...big time! Coop is also having a new friend from school join us for dinner.
It'll be yummy. Simple fall meal of chicken chili, homemade cornbread, apple/pear salad and for dessert, two tarts. One I made for Jim, a maple pumpkin tart with fall apples. The other, a traditional almond tart with lemon curd. I made up the pumpkin tart, and was a little concerned that it would bake well. I just ran to take it out of the over, and oh, my word! YUM. It looks delicious. Fingers crossed!
I've been reorganizing my weeks, and figuring out what life with all my kids in school looks like. I am loving the time, and learning how to run my days at a calmer, steady pace. I made Chicken Little look serene that first month of school. Tuning in to a slower pace and more time at home is such a gift to me. Every stage cannot be this way, and I am truly savoring being right here where I am now.
I think about my Aunt Kay almost every day and her saying that one day I will long with all my heart for the peanut butter smears on the windows and yearn for a mess of jackets on the mudroom floor. And I remember my Grandma DeBoer who made time for a coffee break in her mornings. She knew friendship. My Grandma Taylor left us with a huge legacy of hospitality, too. And organization. From her I take my morning habits: a prepared kitchen makes for a smooth day.
But back to napkins.
Were you wondering?
I wander.
I went to set the dining room table. Placemats were being pulled out of their place in the buffet, and suddenly at the bottom of the stack of placemats I was choosing, what do my eyes behold?
A jumble of...yes, you are guessing...NAPKINS!
Cloth napkins of assorted designs and colors. All folded; and all jammed into the buffet bottom!
Methinks a kitchen helper put them away so nicely. Probably in a great spot in relation to my vague directions of "put them in the hutch, honey"! Ha ha on me! We have a hutch in the kitchen that holds linens and the dining room buffet is right next door in the other room. Easy mistake.
I mean, my kids still are flummoxed that the family room isn't called the "living room". Because we live there after all, right? Right. Makes perfect sense.
So there you have it! My silly story of the day!
How fun it will be to breeze through sets of napkins that will surely match to perfection, gracing our kitchen table with my glorious find! A treasure hunt at home. I had no idea!
Happy Friday. May the Lord bless your day richly.
We use cloth napkins for dinner, most of the time. After Emma had been home for awhile, I noticed her throwing a cloth napkin out into the garbage after dinner. This makes sense because we throw out paper napkins when we use them, right?
Right.
Around that time, I also noticed that I was missing a number of my napkins. And I just chalked it up to not noticing Emma throwing out cloth ones for some time. But that also took us down to just a set or two of matching cloth napkins.
No tragedy, we mix and match!
Well...
We are having dinner guests tonight. An awesome young couple from church. Steve also is Cooper's small group leader in youth group, and we could not be happier Cooper is being shepherded in his growing faith by such a grounded, strong man of God. Steve is amazing. He is courting an exually lovely young lady, Lindsay. And they are coming for dinner. Steve has taken Luke under his wing, also. And Luke and Steve connect over sports...big time! Coop is also having a new friend from school join us for dinner.
It'll be yummy. Simple fall meal of chicken chili, homemade cornbread, apple/pear salad and for dessert, two tarts. One I made for Jim, a maple pumpkin tart with fall apples. The other, a traditional almond tart with lemon curd. I made up the pumpkin tart, and was a little concerned that it would bake well. I just ran to take it out of the over, and oh, my word! YUM. It looks delicious. Fingers crossed!
I've been reorganizing my weeks, and figuring out what life with all my kids in school looks like. I am loving the time, and learning how to run my days at a calmer, steady pace. I made Chicken Little look serene that first month of school. Tuning in to a slower pace and more time at home is such a gift to me. Every stage cannot be this way, and I am truly savoring being right here where I am now.
I think about my Aunt Kay almost every day and her saying that one day I will long with all my heart for the peanut butter smears on the windows and yearn for a mess of jackets on the mudroom floor. And I remember my Grandma DeBoer who made time for a coffee break in her mornings. She knew friendship. My Grandma Taylor left us with a huge legacy of hospitality, too. And organization. From her I take my morning habits: a prepared kitchen makes for a smooth day.
But back to napkins.
Were you wondering?
I wander.
I went to set the dining room table. Placemats were being pulled out of their place in the buffet, and suddenly at the bottom of the stack of placemats I was choosing, what do my eyes behold?
A jumble of...yes, you are guessing...NAPKINS!
Cloth napkins of assorted designs and colors. All folded; and all jammed into the buffet bottom!
Methinks a kitchen helper put them away so nicely. Probably in a great spot in relation to my vague directions of "put them in the hutch, honey"! Ha ha on me! We have a hutch in the kitchen that holds linens and the dining room buffet is right next door in the other room. Easy mistake.
I mean, my kids still are flummoxed that the family room isn't called the "living room". Because we live there after all, right? Right. Makes perfect sense.
So there you have it! My silly story of the day!
How fun it will be to breeze through sets of napkins that will surely match to perfection, gracing our kitchen table with my glorious find! A treasure hunt at home. I had no idea!
Happy Friday. May the Lord bless your day richly.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
all things new
And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” And He *said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”
- Revelation 21:5
Oh, how I've needed these words today.
All things new. Jesus upholding and working and making the messes and broken "all better".
Jesus not far off. Never distant.
My saviour reigning and ruling in the mess and mire of here.
Bringing healing to the broken; in spirit and in body.
Restoring the years of the locust. Taking what's been stolen, lost, destroyed and buying it back. Making it whole and complete.
Redeeming
Reclaiming
Salvaging
Saving
Transforming
Fixing
Making whole
Renewing
Fashioning into His righteousness
God tells us he wastes nothing, and in that I take such heart.
Because today? Today I keep thinking of a one loved who has walked these past weeks a road so barren and broken my heart falls to its knees and there are only the groans of pain for her.
And it was, none of it, her fault. Sweet, innocent, perfect girl.
For the one looking in fear at what the days bring, and wondering how it can ever end or be better, I speak the strong, true hope of God.
Life is not for naught. Even when I dearly sometimes just wish we would all be beamed up, taken away, removed from how hard life can be.
Yet that's not the plan. Now matters. What we do here is part of the Kingdom plan, and as much as I yearn for another Day, I also know the beam me up mentality is not how to see the world if I truly and really know and trust and believe my Lord.
Taking the land. Making His Kingdom come. God at work, in me and in you and in the broken, messy, awful, wretchedness of here.
So this, my friends, is what is true:
"I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world." - John 16:33I find such comfort in that. That Jesus knows. He knows. For real He knows.
My dismay, my horror, my moans of sadness and despair? They matter to him and are not dismissed, nor are they for nothing.
And as we heard in church on Sunday, may the moments when our hearts ache and we just "can't stands no more" as Popeye said, be the moments we are driven to the Lord, and driven to do something.
So may my fervent groaning prayers , my stakes in the ground, and God's mighty hand that moves always and is never weary or tired or surprised by the load, be part of what carries the two. The ones I love who have heavy loads they bear. They have a burden-bearer. And He carries us, not just our loads.
Thanks be to God, who indeed makes all things new.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” - Matthew 11:28
Monday, October 10, 2011
sweet, sweetest Swede
Swede.
The best dog ever.
Calm, gentle, sweet, obedient, dear, loved.
We said goodbye this Saturday to our beautiful, much beloved Swede.
Never will there be another dog like you, Swede.
Thank you for all the years of companionship and love. You brought our family so much joy, and so many fun, funny, fond, good, wholesome memories.
Our food will now safely sit on counters and tables.
Our welcome party for friends and strangers alike is gone, with you not here.
Mornings are lonely without your warm, black body nearby.
There's no dancing greeting for us in the driveway a hundred times a day.
Christmas morning no longer will feature a bone being crunched and gnawed while your tail thumped an accompanying rhythm.
All those days and weekends on the dock are warm, sweet memories. Your wading but not swimming in the water is bittersweet for us all!
The entryway is empty and we all have been sure we've heard your soft "woof" to be let in.
The squirrels, chipmunks and birds miss your quiet company; you who never once chased or thought to bark. If we had ducks, they would miss you, too, as you never met another creature you didn't call friend.
I will never think of the color red again, without thinking of you and your leash.
Even though you walked us, not the other way around, and I grumbled the entire way around the block, walks won't be quite the same.
We miss you.
And we love you. So much.
The best dog ever.
Calm, gentle, sweet, obedient, dear, loved.
We said goodbye this Saturday to our beautiful, much beloved Swede.
Never will there be another dog like you, Swede.
Thank you for all the years of companionship and love. You brought our family so much joy, and so many fun, funny, fond, good, wholesome memories.
Our food will now safely sit on counters and tables.
Our welcome party for friends and strangers alike is gone, with you not here.
Mornings are lonely without your warm, black body nearby.
There's no dancing greeting for us in the driveway a hundred times a day.
Christmas morning no longer will feature a bone being crunched and gnawed while your tail thumped an accompanying rhythm.
All those days and weekends on the dock are warm, sweet memories. Your wading but not swimming in the water is bittersweet for us all!
The entryway is empty and we all have been sure we've heard your soft "woof" to be let in.
The squirrels, chipmunks and birds miss your quiet company; you who never once chased or thought to bark. If we had ducks, they would miss you, too, as you never met another creature you didn't call friend.
I will never think of the color red again, without thinking of you and your leash.
Even though you walked us, not the other way around, and I grumbled the entire way around the block, walks won't be quite the same.
We miss you.
And we love you. So much.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Emma:: beautiful
Emma got off the bus today and threw down her backpack.
She also tossed her little frog ice pack.
She loves that icepack.
Something was wrong.
I've known this day would come. It is partly why her first year home we literally cocooned her in love and made a sanctuary of our family and close friends. We wanted her to have a foundation. Have truth firmly planted in her lovely little heart and mind.
"Mom, I'm so mad," said without rancor as only Emma can when she is mad.
We agreed to talk in the car. Thankfully. It wasn't a small thing she had to share.
A boy on the bus told her he wouldn't sit with her.
This is hard. It is harder because he wouldn't sit with her because he thought her hands were ugly.
Oh, and he didn't like her voice.
I have thought for two years about who we are going to be as a family. What do we really and truly believe? And how we really and truly know as head and heart knowledge that our Emma was fashioned fearfully {as in with awe}, wonderfully, perfectly and beautifully by her Heavenly Father.
No mistakes.
Nothing wrong.
She is truly perfect.
And she is truly beautiful.
She is a special gift, not a special need.
The truth is we all have special needs apart from seeing one another through God's eyes. Wretched fallen man.
Tiger Mom stayed at bay, by the grace of the Lord. I hugged my beautiful girl, told her how sad I was for that boy that he didn't know the truth, and reminded Emma of how lovely and incredibly beautiful she is, inside and out. And by the grace of God, I also meant what I was saying.
Then we went to share about the encounter with the "bus monitor". I told her that Emma had a sad story to share, and then Emma narrated the entire chain of events. I have never loved a bus monitor more. She said all the things I would have hoped she'd say, and at the end of the exchange Emma left with a little skip in her step, a smile on her gorgeous face and a "thanks for helping me!".
Oftentimes different makes us uncomfortable. Which can make us feel a bit afraid of feeling uncomfortable. And feeling that unsettled afraid leads to fear and judgement. Mean comes out.
How many times and in how many places does this play out in my own life and home? Plank.
But God.
Snuggling up on my lap for a long hug, some eye to eye truth about how God made her and how beautiful she is, and some siblings agreeing that indeed, she is a joy and a lovely, pretty girl eased my heart. I believe they also healed a bit of my Emma's.
Then we prayed. For that boy; that he would have the gift of his eyes being opened. That He would experience God's love and grace in the places that truth can grow and lodge in his life. He is, after all, a little boy. We asked God to bless this boy, to take this hurtful incident and make much of it for the Kingdom, in this little guys life.
Tomorrow the bus monitor is speaking to the boy. Please pray for her, that God would guide her words, thoughts and actions. And please join me in praying for the little boy and my little girl. My dear, sweet, beloved, beautiful, lovely, adorable, perfectly fashioned Emma Kate. And a boy who is also a child of the King.
I knew this day would come. I didn't expect to face it literally cocooned in peace and fully cushioned by the Lord. He is good. All the time. All of it.
Psalm 139
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
She also tossed her little frog ice pack.
She loves that icepack.
Something was wrong.
I've known this day would come. It is partly why her first year home we literally cocooned her in love and made a sanctuary of our family and close friends. We wanted her to have a foundation. Have truth firmly planted in her lovely little heart and mind.
"Mom, I'm so mad," said without rancor as only Emma can when she is mad.
We agreed to talk in the car. Thankfully. It wasn't a small thing she had to share.
A boy on the bus told her he wouldn't sit with her.
This is hard. It is harder because he wouldn't sit with her because he thought her hands were ugly.
Oh, and he didn't like her voice.
I have thought for two years about who we are going to be as a family. What do we really and truly believe? And how we really and truly know as head and heart knowledge that our Emma was fashioned fearfully {as in with awe}, wonderfully, perfectly and beautifully by her Heavenly Father.
No mistakes.
Nothing wrong.
She is truly perfect.
And she is truly beautiful.
She is a special gift, not a special need.
The truth is we all have special needs apart from seeing one another through God's eyes. Wretched fallen man.
Tiger Mom stayed at bay, by the grace of the Lord. I hugged my beautiful girl, told her how sad I was for that boy that he didn't know the truth, and reminded Emma of how lovely and incredibly beautiful she is, inside and out. And by the grace of God, I also meant what I was saying.
Then we went to share about the encounter with the "bus monitor". I told her that Emma had a sad story to share, and then Emma narrated the entire chain of events. I have never loved a bus monitor more. She said all the things I would have hoped she'd say, and at the end of the exchange Emma left with a little skip in her step, a smile on her gorgeous face and a "thanks for helping me!".
Oftentimes different makes us uncomfortable. Which can make us feel a bit afraid of feeling uncomfortable. And feeling that unsettled afraid leads to fear and judgement. Mean comes out.
How many times and in how many places does this play out in my own life and home? Plank.
But God.
Snuggling up on my lap for a long hug, some eye to eye truth about how God made her and how beautiful she is, and some siblings agreeing that indeed, she is a joy and a lovely, pretty girl eased my heart. I believe they also healed a bit of my Emma's.
Then we prayed. For that boy; that he would have the gift of his eyes being opened. That He would experience God's love and grace in the places that truth can grow and lodge in his life. He is, after all, a little boy. We asked God to bless this boy, to take this hurtful incident and make much of it for the Kingdom, in this little guys life.
Tomorrow the bus monitor is speaking to the boy. Please pray for her, that God would guide her words, thoughts and actions. And please join me in praying for the little boy and my little girl. My dear, sweet, beloved, beautiful, lovely, adorable, perfectly fashioned Emma Kate. And a boy who is also a child of the King.
I knew this day would come. I didn't expect to face it literally cocooned in peace and fully cushioned by the Lord. He is good. All the time. All of it.
Psalm 139
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
re-reads
I had strep throat earlier this week.
I was rendered inert upon my bed for two days.
I was also, in a nutshell, pathetic.
I cried one afternoon because I felt so terrible. Really? Me? A grown woman who just took antibiotics and knows she will recover in a few days, crying. Alas, it is true.
One benefit of that illness, counted amidst the bigger blessing of all my children being school age so I could actually lay sick in bed, was that I dug out some old friends to read.
One of my very favorite classes in college was my Russian literature in translation class. Oh, I become happy just typing that course title. The German literature in translation class is a very close second. But Tolstoy, Chekov, Dostoevsky? They taught me about a different place in the world, and also about myself. My teacher was excellent and broke open the culture and the novels so that we, as young readers with western experiences in a far different era, could understand what these literary works meant to the people who received and read them when they were written. It was a history, political science, theology and religion and literature class all rolled into one.
I swoon.
I am re-reading Fyodor Dostoevsky's "The Brother's Karamazov". Now if I only had kept all my lecture notes.
It is funny how I now need reading glasses to decode the text. And what felt like ancient history to me in college is not so far back from an adult's perspective. He wrote in the late 1800s.
One thing that I'm greatly enjoying this go round is remembering that Dostoevsky became a devout orthodox Christian, rejecting his more radical ideas about faith, when he was imprisoned in Siberia for years. He only had a Bible to read.
God wastes nothing.
His epitaph is John 12:24, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit".
That is also the epigraph to this novel, "The Brothers Karamazov".
"Crime and Punishment" is perhaps a more well known work by Dostoevsky. I couldn't find my copy of that! It'll have to wait. I've got 600 pages of the brothers to read first!
Reading is a huge indulgence to me. Sitting still for a few days I am not at all good at. It was almost like being put in time out, and I chafed at the bit. I usually can only bring myself to read at night before bed. It feels like the days work is complete then and I can escape into a book then.
Being sick clearly has its benefits! Hours upon hours of pages rustling and turning. A sweet repast indeed.
Don't be bored by me. I'm know I'm weird. It is okay.
I was rendered inert upon my bed for two days.
I was also, in a nutshell, pathetic.
I cried one afternoon because I felt so terrible. Really? Me? A grown woman who just took antibiotics and knows she will recover in a few days, crying. Alas, it is true.
One benefit of that illness, counted amidst the bigger blessing of all my children being school age so I could actually lay sick in bed, was that I dug out some old friends to read.
One of my very favorite classes in college was my Russian literature in translation class. Oh, I become happy just typing that course title. The German literature in translation class is a very close second. But Tolstoy, Chekov, Dostoevsky? They taught me about a different place in the world, and also about myself. My teacher was excellent and broke open the culture and the novels so that we, as young readers with western experiences in a far different era, could understand what these literary works meant to the people who received and read them when they were written. It was a history, political science, theology and religion and literature class all rolled into one.
I swoon.
I am re-reading Fyodor Dostoevsky's "The Brother's Karamazov". Now if I only had kept all my lecture notes.
It is funny how I now need reading glasses to decode the text. And what felt like ancient history to me in college is not so far back from an adult's perspective. He wrote in the late 1800s.
One thing that I'm greatly enjoying this go round is remembering that Dostoevsky became a devout orthodox Christian, rejecting his more radical ideas about faith, when he was imprisoned in Siberia for years. He only had a Bible to read.
God wastes nothing.
His epitaph is John 12:24, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit".
That is also the epigraph to this novel, "The Brothers Karamazov".
"Crime and Punishment" is perhaps a more well known work by Dostoevsky. I couldn't find my copy of that! It'll have to wait. I've got 600 pages of the brothers to read first!
Reading is a huge indulgence to me. Sitting still for a few days I am not at all good at. It was almost like being put in time out, and I chafed at the bit. I usually can only bring myself to read at night before bed. It feels like the days work is complete then and I can escape into a book then.
Being sick clearly has its benefits! Hours upon hours of pages rustling and turning. A sweet repast indeed.
Don't be bored by me. I'm know I'm weird. It is okay.
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