Once Upon a Time...

...there were two storytellers.

They had an empty book to fill with words. There were stickers to color, and spaces for illustrations.

And they worked on their story together.

(Falling "in love love" must be an extra-special kind of falling in love.) (The kind that is happy-ever-after, I think.)

Twenty

My 20th High School Reunion was tonight, in Virginia. We have done other traveling this year, and are going to Virginia for Thanksgiving, so I didn't even attempt to make plans to attend. I have enjoyed being in touch with some people on Facebook in the last few years that I hadn't seen or talked to since I was seventeen. 

Twenty years ago.

That sounds pretty weird.

I am trying to remember what I thought when I was seventeen. I am sure that I was fairly naive. But I probably thought that I knew more than people gave me credit for, especially when it came to something like love. I'm pretty sure I didn't know as much as people gave me credit for when it came to things like math. At the time, I believed that I would end up on the mission field, at least for a brief period. I wanted to be a teacher (I had some amazing English teachers). I was ready for something new (college). I was sure that my peers still saw me as a frizz-headed super-nerd with glasses and braces; I wanted to go someplace else, somewhere that people decidedly did not know my name. A fresh start was waiting for me. I remember seeing our class picture, all of us (those who didn't skip school!) dressed in cap and gown. I scanned the photo, looking for myself (as most teenagers would). My face was hidden behind someone else's cap. I couldn't see me in the picture. I thought that was appropriate, since it seemed like I was invisible to my classmates most of the time. (High school...fraught with drama.) I dreamed of spending every summer for the rest of my life at Camp Alkulana. I just knew that I would have six kids (and I wanted all boys) ( ?? ). At seventeen, I wanted to be a faithful Christian, but I struggled with making good choices sometimes. I still loved New Kids on the Block, or NKOTB as we got older. I loved to write, and delighted in an angsty kind of way in being extremely dramatic in my poems and stories. I was somber and silly, all wrapped up together in a convoluted package. I was so young! And melancholy. And so silly!

So, what's gone on all these years? How have I changed? How have I stayed the same? What have I learned?

-I still tend to the melancholy.
-And the silly.
-On the other hand, I finally realized that I don't know much about love at all, and have a lot to learn.
-My math facts memory improved, and I figured out how to do percentages.
-I feel much less invisible now than I did back then.
-I still love Camp Alkulana, (But I'm not sure how I managed to clean the outhouse toilets there (a.k.a. CAPS))!
-I did end up being the mother of six children, but three of them got to be with the Lord sooner than the rest of us.
-Writing continues to be a therapeutic exercise for me...and it's likely that I still delight in an angsty kind of way in being extrememly dramatic. 
-I found out that getting married doesn't automatically equal being a grown-up. And that being a grown-up is harder than you think it's going to be.
-I learned how to cook. A little. Mike and I ate a lot of Ramen noodles, canned soup, and spaghetti with meat sauce the first year of our marriage.
-I did get to teach, but not in a classroom, rather, my kids at home.
-My main mission field has turned out to be my home. I'm still working on figuring out just what that means.
-I learned that God really does get me through the hard times. That sounds so trite, but I wanted to say it as simply as I could. The day-to-day things can flip me right out, but during those times that seem to be just about too much, I realize that they are too much for me alone, and I must wholly lean on Him.
-I was shown that I should never say never. I married a man headed for the ministry. A hairy one at that (man, not ministry...but that too, probably).
-I learned how hard sacrifice is. I'm still learning that one. And I'm not particularly good at being sacrificial, graciously.
-I realized that I am not as nice as I thought I was. When I was young, I was always "the quiet, nice girl." Getting married and being a parent showed me a lot about myself that was kind of alarming.
-Since I was seventeen, I have lived in college dorm rooms, my parents' house, an apartment with a friend, four apartments with Mike, and four houses with him. Nowhere really feels like home yet.
-I made some of the best friends in these last twenty years, between college and seminary friends.
-I discovered that, even though it is my calling right now, housewifery is challenging, to say the least. Apparently God doesn't always call us to the things we are well-equipped for. (Wink)
- Oddly enough, I'm still so young! At least, I often feel just like I did when I was seventeen. Only now I have gray hairs.

Twenty things for twenty years. It seems like a long time, and yet not. I wonder if I'll say the same thing after twenty more?

Waiting for Change

Yesterday we went to Christian's back-to-school picnic. Every year, they have The Butterfly Guy there, with a butterfly tent set up, and a table at which to buy chrysalises. This year we bought one. It is supposed to emerge tomorrow. I'm a little nervous about the whole process.

I was thinking today how nice it would be to wrap myself up and hide away for days, undergoing a miraculous metamorphosis within that space. Changing, growing, becoming something new. Finally pushing through the protective layers that sheltered me while this unimaginable renewal was taking place. Emerging an altogether changed and beautiful creature.

I learned that the chrysalis is not something that a caterpillar makes around its outside, but is actually the body that is beneath the last skin that it loses (my nephew likely could have taught me all about this). Once the chrysalis hardens, extraordinary things ensue within. The body breaks down, and somehow the cells put themselves back together in the form of the butterfly. It then comes out. It's wild, really.

I know there are changes taking place in me, similarly. And it will be a while before the full transformation is complete. But, oh, how I long for that day.

At least we only have to wait until tomorrow for the butterfly! It will remind us of this: "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day." 2 Corinthians 4:16 

Busy Beaders

When Christian and Michaela were little, a friend introduced me to beads that I had never heard of. They were very tiny plastic ones, and rather than round and ball-shaped, they were like eensy cylinders. The beads came in myriad colors and were begging to be used by wee fingers. My kids spent hours creating designs with the beads on small peg boards (Of course I bought them after my friend's recommendation...it was more like she said,"YOU HAVE TO HAVE THESE FOR YOUR CHILDREN, IT'S FOR THE CHILDREN!!"). Michaela and Christian also spent a fair amount of time spreading a thousand beads all over the basement floor in the house we lived in at that time. Once the kids were done with their designs, I ironed them, melting the beads together for a finished product. My other MO was to leave the designs on the peg boards on the ironing board, where they eventually got knocked over before being ironed, thereby ruining the incomparable, unduplicatable design and causing much dismay and despair, and there was great weeping and gnashing of teeth in all the land.  

Since then, these children have made more drink coasters than even the White House would ever need, but for the last couple of years, our bead supply has dwindled greatly and the beads and design boards have been put away where they couldn't find them in hiding. 

Until recently. They were rediscovered. Michaela and Christian became bead fiends, fighting one another for the precious last shiny orange bead, or the dolphin gray bead, for no other color will work for a dolphin, OF COURSE, or the prized see-through turquoise bead, the only one left of its color, and the only one which would finish off the second stripe of a symmetrical pair of lines, and which was the final bead of the entire configuration so the bead was the rightful property of the designer who needed that bead, and only that bead, to complete his creation. 

We needed new beads, is what I'm saying.

And did we ever get some!

This should keep them happy. Eleven thousand beads! A rainbow in a bucket.

I also bought a couple of closable sorting trays, hoping it would make it easier for them to find and use the colors they want. The girls got busy right away organizing the beads into the container.

What progress!

Ha! This might take a while. 

The three of them were very industrious this afternoon. If only I could say the same thing about myself! 

They haven't made anything since the new beads arrived, but here are the things they made a few days ago. 

Christian's

Michaela's

Eliana still just watches them and messes around with the beads. She was enjoying sticking her hand into the new bucket today and letting them slip through her fingers like sand! She told me to try it, and I have to confess, they felt almost silky! 

Maybe ordering the beads will keep her occupied while I'm doing work with Michaela. Eliana, Math, done!

New Shoes News

Michaela and I went to a different shoe store this afternoon. I had told her the other day that we could check out another place and sooner is always better than later when talking about getting new shoes, so today seemed as good a day as any to continue the hunt.

Shortly after we walked into the store, I zeroed in on some All Stars. They had several different muted colors: charcoal gray, a creamy color that they call white online, but is not white, because there is actually a white-white, and navy. We both really liked the navy. They came home with us.

These shoes. I really love them. Lovelove. So much love that I might get over my I-don't-wear-other-people's-shoes thing because of these shoes. Or I might just get some of my own...my birthday is coming up, you know. I like my brown ones, and I like these navy ones too. Very Much So.

Now. I wandered the aisles a little while Michaela was trying on the navy low-tops. On the other side I made a discovery. 

Orange Chucks for my orange-loving progeny? Yes, please. 

Who needs black sneaks? Definitely not Michaela.

Who needs navy sneaks? Definitely Christina. 

HappyBirthdaytoMeHappyBirthdaytoMeHappyBirthdayDearChristinaHappyBirthdaytoMe!