The Best Halloween Alternative You've Never Heard Of

My biggest helper. He wears an eye patch two hours a day to strengthen his left eye.

Each year as Halloween approaches I find myself struggling with what to do. My husband has similar concerns, so we've been trying to figure this out together for several years now. I'm a person of deep convictions, but for the longest time I've been wrestling with this and going back and forth. Actually, ever since our oldest was a baby because that's when everyone started asking, "Awww! And what are you going to be for Halloween?" 

I didn't want to deny my kid a fun, innocent American tradition (if it truly was innocent).
On the other hand, I didn't want to participate in something that was taking on a guise of innocence (if it truly wasn't). In either case we didn't want to make a decision based in fear or legalism.

There are many Christians who hold strong, differing views and beliefs on this subject, and the purpose of this post is not to persuade, but to share something I'm super excited about. I'm not condemning or belittling anyone's faith walk. This post is written with people like us in mind - people who haven't had a clear conscience about any of the current alternatives to Halloween, who've been praying and seeking out a proactive path. If that's you, keep reading!

Here are just a few of the most popular alternatives to Halloween that we know of, and why they aren't a good fit for our family:

Trunk or Treat
Practically speaking, I don't see anything substantially different between this and other trick-or-treat activities. 

Harvest parties, bounce houses, and hayrides
These are fun and innocent, and we've done a couple of them already this fall. Super fun! There's nothing wrong with these, but I've been looking for something less passive and more active. I don't want to simply distract my kids from Halloween - I want them to experience a deeper relationship with God. 

Hiding in the house with the lights off
I want to demonstrate love, boldness, and humble reverence toward the Father. Hiding isn't really necessary for people opting out of a holiday in a free country. 

If you're curious why I even wanted a Halloween alternative in the first place, here's the briefest way I can describe it: There are people who do terrible things to children, pregnant women, and animals on Halloween - people who take this season (and this holiday) very, very seriously. I'm not so concerned about the history (which I've read) of Halloween and its pagan and/or Christian roots. I'm concerned with what's going on right now. Some of the works of the occult that are currently taking place on Halloween are so grotesque, so evil, so demonic and vile that I can't bear to write them. As a Christian, I know that the enemy is alive and working, and that this season brings rejoicing in death and darkness. I want to rejoice in the Creator of life and light, and I want to be proactive about it. 

My youngest was just as eager to help as his big brother!

You can do your own online searches to find out as much as you want of the horrible things that go on during Halloween. YouTube has a list of videos by former witches and satanists who've turned to Christ, who have opened up and shared some of the things that they used to be a part of, and things they witnessed and heard of.

Some question what any of that has to do with cute little kids trick-or-treating. Again, I'm not using this post as a platform for persuading anyone to change their views. This is for Christians who don't want a passive alternative to Halloween.

Anyway. I don't want to distract my kids from evil - I want them to bring it to Jesus in prayer and be a light in the darkness. I don't want to see how close I can get to the flames without getting burned - I want to be as close to Jesus as possible. That's what we want for our kids as well, and I want them to have a tangible, fun way to do it.

FINALLY! 

I finally figured out a great way for our family to do it! A couple of days ago I just happened to read a comment from a lady I don't know, who said that she celebrates the Feast of Tabernacles in place of Halloween. I was immediately intrigued and asked her what exactly that looked like for her family. She said they put a tent up in their back yard, eat their meals there, and paint rocks. I was seeing stars! 

You've never seen anyone Google so fast and Pinterest so furiously. Haha!
I'm still learning, but I wanted to share just a couple of things I learned about it. If it sounds like what you've been missing, I'd just like to be the first to give you a virtual high-five and say, YESSSSS, me too!!!

As a Christian I wasn't sure if I was allowed to participate in the Feast of Tabernacles. We've never celebrated a Jewish holiday before, so my question was....can we do that?
So far all that I've read online has encouraged Christians to explore this and other Jewish celebrations because of the unity (through Jesus) that has brought us together.

Here's a brief description of the Feast of Tabernacles and how we can experience a deeper connection to God through it. 

This is the best thing I've read so far, explaining the significance of the Feast of Tabernacles and how it relates to us today. 

How do we do it? What does it look like for us? Well, it probably looks a bit different than how they do things in Jerusalem, and it will probably change a bit each year as we learn more about it, but here's how it's starting: 

Our little "booth" in the backyard :)

My hope is to invite neighbors to come have a simple cookout with us on several nights of the feast, once we get our bearings.

I cleared a path with the rake and my oldest lined it with sticks to mark the way. He was SO excited to be working on this project! He wanted to do everything, but with a little coaxing was willing to let me and little brother get involved. We worked as long as the boys were willing, but once we started getting tired, frustrated, and grumpy we called it a day.

Peaceful.

A very tactile experience

One thing that really hit me out of nowhere was the beauty and power of this very tangible, tactile experience. I'm always trying to find ways for the kids to learn and grow through hands-on activities, but I can't remember the last time that I came up with one of those learning activities for myself. Probably never. But there's something about the pull of the rake as I was clearing leaves and pine cones to make a campsite, the whoosh and crinkling of the tarp as it flew up and then crumpled on the dirt, the feel of the tent fabric slipping through my hands, the breeze and sunlight, the laughter and giggles of my boys as they worked joyfully, the crunch of gravel in the fire pit, and the way my hands had to figure out just the right way to move so I could open the tent door smoothly. All of these senses worked the mystery of God's charity into my heart in a way I don't think I've encountered until now.

As we worked, I told my oldest a little bit about the history of what we were doing, and how it can help us celebrate God's provision and know him better. It was a pretty short conversation because I could tell that he totally got it. He was feeling the tents of the Israelites in the wilderness between his own fingers. He was holding the firewood that warmed them at night. He was seeing light by the same sun, walking the same earth, and breathing the same air as generations past. It was his, and it was mine. Beauty.

Another connection I made as we worked is the similarity between some modern educational philosophy and the Lord's feasts. Bear with me, here :) 

In some early childhood education methods, there is emphasis on providing children with a beautiful learning space, spread out for them in advance - a feast for the senses! The learning spaces are full of natural light, free of clutter, and well-organized. Children are encouraged to experience learning through play in a hands-on environment. 

God spreads a table before us as well...a table that stretches from the beginning of the year to the end of it, spread with one feast after another, a tactile learning experience that invites all of the senses! Breathe in the aromas, taste the banquet foods, See the lights and colors and depth of contrast, listen as the Word rises from the pages of the Bible, the laughter of children and stories of family and friends, and feel the softness of the tent cloth, the strength of the tent poles, the crunch of dry leaves underfoot....so nice! God is a loving Father who spreads out a banquet of beauty, art, and creativity and invites us, his children, to sit at the table and take it all in. And really, to take in the beauty and creativity of God's love and faithfulness. He is the master Teacher, and he knows that many of us learn best (and retain what we've learned) through tactile, hands-on experiences. 

I don't know about you, but that's got me excited about the Feast of Tabernacles!

Rocking on the front porch, waiting for dad to get home so they could show him our surprise in the back yard.

So here's the plan: starting today (October 25) and ending on Halloween night (7 days), we will eat most of our meals in our tent, read some recommended Bible passages, pray, sing, and do some fun activities (I haven't figured out what exactly, but that's what Pinterest is for!). Hopefully we'll be able to have some friends over for a campfire and s'mores, and maybe see some stars in the night sky. 

I really wish I could convey just how deeply joyful and at rest I feel now that I've found a way to grow in Christ through this season. No hiding, no distracting, no ignoring....just meeting the night with the power of the Son. It's something that we can invite friends, coworkers, and neighbors to, and gauging by how excited the boys were when I told them we were getting the tent out, I think it's safe to say we've got ourselves a new family tradition over here! 

Working with what we've got: dry brush

One of the things we'll include in our Feast of Tabernacles is a campfire. The boys helped make fire starter bundles from a stack of dead weeds, grasses, and brush that we had near the driveway. 

Kinda pretty!

CUTE!

Bonding over flammable materials

Okay, I got a little carried away.

A bouquet made of dead brush isn't everyone's cup of tea.
I think it's lovely in it's own way :)

All seven fire starters lined up in a row and ready for service!

A Storm in the Woods

This morning I had dream that has clung to me all day. It was about a terrifying storm in the woods, and an angel of God.

There were two plots of land in the woods and they were the same size. They both were dense with incredibly tall fir trees, and each plot had a whole bunch of picnic tables. I was on one plot, sitting at a picnic table with Ryan and Jed, my mom and stepdad, and my siblings. The plot next to ours was sort of fenced off by thick overgrowth (briers, dense foliage, etc.) so we kept on our side and the people on the other side stuck to theirs.

While we were eating together, a huge wind storm came up out of nowhere, howling like the roar of immense waves breaking. It was like an instant hurricane. Some of the tall trees above us were plucked up out of the ground and thrown down all around the picnic tables. I had half a second to look and see where the tree nearest me might land, and the next thing I knew, one of the men at our table had thrown himself onto me to protect me from the falling trees. There was terrible, horrifying howling of wind all around us, and everything happened too fast for words. But somehow, we all survived. No one on our plot of land was killed or even injured in any way. Miraculously, the trees all landed in between the people.

As we began to pick ourselves up and look around, a second tidal wave of wind rammed through the plot of land next to ours. It had more trees than ours did, and most of them were leveled in a blink of an eye. There was no resistance, only swift destruction. It was horrifying to see. Every person in that camp was killed by the falling trees. No one survived.

I suddenly realized something. The people on my plot of land fell into two categories: Christians, and those who still had a chance to become Christ-followers (because their hearts were soft). The people on the other plot of land were too far gone...so hard-hearted, stiff-necked, and who hated God and his laws and everything about him. There was not an ounce of hope left for them, and they knowingly chose that path.

I was separated from my family by a couple of yards, and as I made my way back to them over the rubble, something to my right caught my eye. It was an angel of God sent to kill anyone who was hiding out on our plot of land, pretending to be a Christ-follower. I couldn’t see the angel. The only things I could see were small zings and flashes of whitish, electric blue light as the angel of God killed the imposters. Part of me was very curious to see the angel, but I was so incredibly terrified! I saw my siblings, Ryan, and Jed, and dove onto them, shielding them and praying desperately that the angel wouldn’t kill us. He had no intention of killing us, but I was so scared, I couldn’t help but pray.

After the storm had passed and the angel was gone, we kind of walked around in a daze, and everyone worked on making their way home. I remember saying to my friend Samantha that I was so glad not to have been on the other side of the fence. She was quick to remind me that our lives were spared by God’s grace alone, and not by anything good we had done. We could have very easily been on the other plot of land.

*******

I don’t remember the last time I had a dream like this, so I thought it would be good to write it down and share it. Other than that, I really don’t know what to say about it. It really shook me up, but I don’t know if it’s “prophetic” or anything like that. I just figured I’d put it out there.

The Real Enemy in the Abortion Debate

Photo source: Gratisography

There's something shady going on here. There's a powerful force at work behind the scenes, pulling strings and pitting good people against each other. You may already know where I'm going with this.

Ephesians 6:12(KJV)

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

There are two main camps in this war, and they have been fighting a bloody war for many years. One group calls themselves Pro Choice, and the other calls themselves Pro Life. Both sides swear to be upholding the cause of the oppressed, swear to be providing the most compassionate answers, and swear that the other side is completely out of touch. They provide facts, statistics, and education. They show various proofs, they picket and demonstrate, and work long hours to guarantee the outcome they desire. 

The tricky part is that many of these people ARE doing the right thing, saying the right thing, and working to bring an end to abortion. But they're doing it in ways that hurt each other. Can you imagine if the two camps came together and found common ground? Impossible, right? I can't imagine the protesters throwing down their signs and tearfully embracing the folks on the other side of the debate. It would take a miracle. 

I've talked with Christians on both sides of the fence, and here's what I've discovered: They both have something in common - it might even be the most important thing, or at least close. The Pro Choice Christians and the Pro Life Christians that I have personally talked to both agree that abortion is horrible. I can't speak for people who don't share my Christian faith, but I think it's very reasonable to assume that most people, whatever sign they're holding up in public, at the heart of it they hate abortion and wish it didn't exist at all. 

So who is the real enemy, if it's not my Pro Choice neighbor? It's is the Enemy of our souls, Satan. 

He pits one side against another, creating an excruciatingly long and bloody battle. While the two sides are busy bringing each other down with arguments and answers, Satan is wreaking havoc on women, unborn children, and the people who love them. 

For the sake of clarity, let me say this: I firmly believe in education and the role it has played in helping women take care of themselves and choose life. I firmly believe in securing better health care for women in underprivileged communities. I also firmly believe in the power of crisis pregnancy centers, mobile ultrasound units, people who pray for the mother and child, and those who are sharing their own stories of the trauma of abortion, or the miracle of a child they thought they couldn't keep. 

These are tools and weapons that God has given us to bring hope, light, and compassion into a very dark, morbid situation. I myself had an unplanned pregnancy ten years ago, and chose adoption for my child. I've been very vocal about my story because I've noticed a lack of testimony from women who have placed a child in and adoptive home. And because I've been vocal about it, other women have sought me out when they've found themselves in crisis. I've been able to answer lots of questions about adoption and clear up some of the mystery and fear that surrounds it. So far, each of the three women I "counseled" chose to keep their baby. One of them had been raped by a long-time friend, and her baby was a gorgeous little blond-haired boy. 

But back to my point: The Real Enemy. 

Satan has us so intensely focused on educating people that we have [almost] lost sight of his work in this. We still pray at church that God would open blind eyes and replace fear with hope, but those prayers lack the intensity that our arguments and debates hold. Why doesn't the devil's hand in this get our blood boiling when we pray? Why don't we get as angry at Satan as we do when the media posts another pro-abortion piece, shouting how wonderful this "right" of abortion is? 

We get so angry with each other, even with the unseen people behind the scenes who promote abortion, that we seriously - seriously - miss the mark. We don't need to tamp down our anger when we pray to God. We don't need to whine or plead (though there's nothing intrinsically wrong with pleading). We don't need to plan our words out so that they sound like an 18th century monk spoke them whilst gazing out over a quiet, pastoral landscape. 

Abortion is ugly, destructive, merciless, and isolating. I think most of us can agree on that. 

Here's one way we can pray:

Father, this is ridiculous. People are hurting and dying every day, and it seems like you're not really doing anything about it. Send your warring angels to fight the Enemy back! Pick up your sword and fight on behalf of the women and children! Show your glory and send Satan running! We're in over our heads. We can't do this, and we are frustrated. We need you. When are you going to show up? When are you going to defeat your enemies? Strike him down, God. Beat the devil back! Strengthen your warriors! Reveal yourself, and blow away the smoke and mirrors of the Enemy. Crush his power, drain him of his influence, and break his back. Beat him into the ground, God! You see what's happening here. When will you come and silence the Accuser? How long will you let him lie, steal, kill and destroy? God, help us! You are our Victory. Without you, we have nothing. Bind the Enemy and hurl him into the sea. Destroy his power the way he has destroyed so many lives. Bring his glory down to dust. Cover him with shame. Expose his schemes and tricks. Expose his motives and deceit. Show the world who he really is, and then show the world who you really are! Blast your light into the darkness and send the demons running. Slice fear into a million pieces, and grind shame into a powder! Leave nothing left for the Enemy to use against your people. Send your peace and your healing like medicine and cool water to the hurting. Lift them up high out of the Enemy's reach. Fight for justice, God! Bring light and salvation! Show your glory!

May God graciously fill our hearts with courage to pray boldly. After all, we serve the creator the universe! 

Photo source: Pixabay

Quick Disclaimer: I know there are plenty of people who pray like this, because years ago I was a part of a church that prayed boldly. I don't assume that this post is going to be anything new for many of you, because God is a big God and he has all kinds of prayer warriors. The reason I'm taking the time to write about The Real Enemy is because in my little circle, in my little world, I don't hear people talking like this. And I miss that. So that's why I'm putting my own voice out there - to encourage myself, and maybe encourage someone else along the way! 

Pregnancy Announcement!

There are a million-bajillion ideas on Pinterest for how to announce your new pregnancy, and ours is nestled in there at about #7,006,4356 ....but to us, and to me, it's as special and new as the little gummy bear swimming around in his/her little "apartment" in my tummy.  We're 9 weeks along with our second babe, and wanted to share a picture that captured the spirit of our family. 

With so many bright, bubbly, giddy announcement ideas out there, I felt a little left out. I'm more of a moody, introverted soul. So is my husband and son. I don't mind rainy days and cool weather, and I even prefer moss and ferns to grass on most days. There are plenty of announcement ideas that capture the sunset-y, honeymoon glow of pregnancy, but there wasn't anything that really summed us up. I didn't know what I wanted exactly, I just knew it had to be a little moody. 

For me, the parenting journey has been steeped in contrasting hues. My first pregnancy was a story of beauty and pain, as I chose adoption for my first child. There was no fanfare, no baby shower, and most of the time I tried not to think about what was happening. 

I met my husband a few years later and discovered that the whole "soul mates" thing is real. I knew from the moment we locked eyes that I was going to marry him. We got married and after a couple of years, started down the path of parenthood. Aside from normal soon-to-be-parent anxieties, things were going pretty well. I did, on occasion, have flashbacks to the trauma of my first pregnancy, but overall it was a good experience until about halfway through. I was four-and-a-half months pregnant with my son when my youngest brother took his life. To say that the remainder of my pregnancy (and the beginning of motherhood) was traumatic is a massive understatement. 

This is why I needed a "moody" pregnancy announcement this time around. It hasn't been all sunshine and lollipops, but we have seen God's love and compassion through it all. And the beauty that he has brought from the ashes is far greater than any sing-songy nursery rhyme I could come up with. 

So there you have it - the inspiration for these rainy-day, cloudy, cool-weather photos to let the world know that hey, life is still good, still worth celebrating, and still beautiful in more ways than we can imagine. 

That face!!! Oh mah word.

I wish I was this photogenic...*sigh* :)

Can I just keep him this size forever? Pretty please?

It's kind of hard to see, but I'm holding a little sea pebble to show baby's size.
I don't know about you, but using food for scale is a little weird. People eat food :(
That's why I chose a rock. No one eats rocks.

Proud parents! I wish I'd have put my hair back in a ponytail for this one, but oh well. 

Another thing worth mentioning: We didn't hire a professional photographer for these pictures. I was using my Nikon, and I took the ones of our toddler, and my sis-in-law took the last two. I used free photo editor Pixlr to make a few adjustments, and voila! I can't even imagine how much a professional would have charged us. Anyway...I'm glad we packed the nice camera! I don't think my phone would have done the job as well :)

DIY Vertical Entryway Table

The Problem:  We have no space for a traditional entryway table, but need somewhere to set mail, keys, phones, spare change, and receipts-that-we're-never-going-to-use-so-why-don't-we-just-recycle-them?

The Solution:  A vertical entryway table. It has all the practical function and visual charm of a floor table, but it uses zero floor space. It's completely customizable, because you can easily make one yourself!

So that's what I did, and here's how I did it...(please excuse the crummy photography)

 First, I did lots of scheming and plotting. Then we took a family trip to The ReBuilding Center, one of our fave places to hang out, and I went on a mini shopping spree :)

 *drool*

I spent a lot of time sifting through dingy old hardware. I love it. I picked stuff out that I figured I could maybe use somehow, even if I didn't have an exact plan in mind. That's a dangerous shopping strategy, but I got two giant fistfulls of vintage hardware for $3, so it wasn't too risky.

 I don't know about you, but I could almost frame this pic and hang it on the wall. 

I want all of the old heaters. 

It has nothing to do with my post, except that I saw it at The ReBuilding Center.

You could make a pretty stellar kitchen island with two of these badboys. 

Okay, so we picked out two long boards to be our vertical beams, and a random slew of weathered and interesting planks for our horizontal ones.  We spent $8 on lumber.  You read that right.

So here we go.

First, take off your jacket and look super cute.

Next, measure and cut your boards to the height you prefer.

Miraculously, both our vertical boards were the exact height we wanted

and required no cutting. I don't even know how. My husband (the tall one)

nailed a few scrap boards in at the top and bottom as spacers, and for structural support

so I could work without worrying about if it was getting all wonky.

I'm the queen of wonkifying things.

Measure twice, cut once. 

Or in this case, have hubby cut them.

Eventually I'll work up the courage to use his table saw.

Here's the top of the organizer, laid out on the kitchen floor.

I cut and arranged boards in the way that seemed most aesthetically pleasing to me,

and screwed a few into the middle of it before unscrewing the support boards.

After I had a few boards in the middle, I didn't need the support boards anymore,

so they went buh-bye and I put the rest of the boards on.

Here's the whole thing before I took out the support boards. I just laid out the boards to get a feel for where I wanted them, and started from the middle, working my way up. 

Pausing for a play break :)

He's actually really good with a hammer.

Hubby screws the Vertical Entryway Table (VET)

into the wall while I support it from the side and take pictures.

Thanks, Honey!!

Bam. 

Okay, it's actually pretty cool just as it is, and if we didn't need a place to set stuff, I would have just left it as-is. (also, I forgot to mention that I did a quick spray paint job on that large middle piece. I went with a green-to-white ombre fade. 

This electrical plate is getting a new lease on life as a small, inspirational plaque that we'll have next to our phone basket (which I'll explain later).

Here's the [almost] finished piece. 

I went out to my fave thrift store and found everything I needed.

This is the only new item we bought: letter-size wall pockets from Office Depot.

I covered them with old flannel (I used Mod Podge, but I'm sure a glue gun would work great), vintage ledger sheets, and an old map with place names like: Huckleberry Mountain, Whiskey Rock, Teepee Gulch, Packsaddle Mountain, Maiden Rock, Idlewilde Bay, Beaver Creek, North Snow Peak, Spruce Mountain, and Dixie Queen. 

Seriously, I just want to pack up and move there right now.

This is a vintage desktop organizer I found for a buck or two. Hubs can toss his keys, employee badge, loose change, etc. and not worry about the todd' getting into it.

At the very tippy top is this olden-timey stitchery thingy. 

I couldn't really think of a practical way to use that space, since it's so close to the ceiling,

so I opted to make it pretty instead.

Mmm-kay...this is my favorite part of the VET!
It features a phone basket, which we are committed to using (no, really) so that we're hands-free in the evenings. There's a little Northwest bouquet of twigs, moss, and lichens which I gathered from our yard, the street, and one of our neighbor's yards (with their permission) after a string of nasty windstorms.  Did I mention the illustrations? I totes stole that idea from Flower Patch Farmgirl. She ripped an illustration out of a kid's book and just put it up on the wall. I was all, "You can do that?" And apparently you can. 

Fun. Just so much fun to build this!

I think I'm going to try making a few smaller ones and selling them.

These are coat hooks for our toddler's jackets. 

They also double as a mini sensory board, since all of the parts move in one way or another.

There you have it.  A vertical entryway table that packs a lot of punch!  There's something for everyone, and it's pretty easy on the eyes (my poor photography notwithstanding). 

The World In Between

Holy Spirit,

You've set heavy loads on our backs. Loads that make the burdens of this life feel light - those burdens which before seemed heavy to us. We are soaked through like wood with a dark stain which permeates our everything. We are unchangeably changed, and we cannot return. 

Though I miss the family I knew before, I see you more clearly in them now. I see heaven and eternity in them in a way I never did before. We are more whole and more broken than we were before. The wells of our conscience have plunged deeper toward the great Aquifer, and the river of life that flows out of sight beneath our feet. 

Though we bear the wounds of the devil's wolves, we are now elevated above their lair. We won't stumble into their den because you have scooped us all onto your broad shoulders. You walk high above the wolves, and they scatter at the sound of your footfall. 

Your stride sweeps us through cool meadows, over raging rivers, and up pine-laden hills, heavy with the scent of morning. We are held fast by your great gentle hands as you wade through the ocean; as you sing with the morning stars. You have mercifully kept us, cradled us, and brought us into a country we'd never known before - a country deeper and wider than we'd seen. We had prayed and hoped to be here with you...

We wanted the depth of your thundering voice to surge through us and rattle our bones. Now it has. You are unsearchable, unknowable, and beyond our understanding. We plummeted through fire and sharp rocks to get there, but you've brought us into your country - wise and old, wild and free. 

We've suffered great loss, and still suffer in this life, but you've made us honorary members of your kingdom while we're still on earth. With one foot in eternity, we walk this familiar road. And though our paths on earth have not changed, they've been swallowed up by eternity, and they look more hollow to us. More transparent. They are a curtain which we can't pull back yet - each street and tree and house is a veil. Everything around us is different, and we are changed as well. 

You've brought redemption and mercy to our doorsteps in the midst of our mourning, and your song of freedom to the rim of our ears. The sights and smells of your great banquet fill our world-weary eyes, giving us joy for tomorrow. You've given us a taste of your glory in the center of our hurricane, a peaceful table to recline at while the world trembles and convulses with labor pains. 

We have been broken and freed from desire for this world, fitted with garlands of precious jewels, measured for our priestly robes, bathed in the ruby-red blood of your Son...

...and asked only to receive. 

Receive Christ, receive mercy, receive strength, receive boldness, receive joy. And in the midst of this gray and foggy world, to shine like a bonfire at night, like precious gold under a white hot sun, and to flavor this world with the unheard-of delicacies of your table.

In Which How to Live is Forgotten and Remembered Again

It finally rained last night, and this morning, and I'm sure the grass and flowers and trees are rejoicing. I even felt my own heart drinking up the rain on behalf of the plants that weren't fully quenched yet. It's strange, but I was thirsty for rain too, and didn't realize how thirsty I was until it rained.

When I stepped outside the house this morning on the way to Tabor Space, I was greeted by the wonderful aromas of wood fire smoke and fresh rain. The whole neighborhood smelled like a campground on a wet summer morning. Birds were calling out their good mornings, and the firs seemed cleaner and greener. 

I got thinking about it: how the rain falls when it's told, the grass grows, and continues to grow after it's cut.

Flowers keep coming back year after year and not giving up. The trees don't seem worried or stressed out. They keep adding new growth every spring. The birds keep waking up at 4:45 every morning, and the squirrels are still making plans for winter. I suppose I could take a hint from all of this. I know I need to keep growing as well, and reaching and producing. A lot of the time I feel dormant, or wish I was dormant, just sleeping the world away. In some ways, I've gone into hiding and put my mind out of this world. I don't want to be here...I want to be in God's country. I'ts just not the right time yet. 

I get a little lost in my wishful thinking. I forget how to live. I've experienced so much death that I've forgotten how to live. I find myself envying people who are oblivious to the horrors I've experienced, just as I was once oblivious to the horrors that others have seen. They've got it so good - they literally have no idea how good they've got it. I used to have that beautiful innocence too, and I miss it so badly. I was touched by the pain in this world - the pain of other people - but it was never my own loss. I didn't know what suicide did to those it left behind. Now that I know, I can't un-know it. I can't un-see the horrors I've witnessed. How can I go on as before? Well, I can't. Horror changes a person. (True horror, that is...not the Hollywood stuff that can be switched off with a button - as gruesome and evil as it is).

We, as people, weren't meant to process the unfathomable terrors that are possible in this world, which take place daily. That's why we have words like: unfathomable, unbelievable, incredulous, unimaginable, incomprehensible, unknowable, inconceivable, unheard of, unthinkable, and indescribable. There are a lot of things and experiences in this life that fall outside our ability to reason and understand. We can't do it. We try for our whole lives to understand, and we spend billions of dollars on research, study, medicine, therapies, awareness, and programs, but we're not able to stop it. Each new generation births horrors all its own, and no human hand will ever be able to put a stop to all madness, all confusion, all evil, all disease...all death.

Yet God keeps calling us forward into the next season, the next morning, the next dry spell, and the next rainfall. We are called forward into life despite our inability to meet the challenges which await us. We are forever beckoned forward into night after night, day after day, breath after breath, death after death, and Life after life. 

God has not made us masters of the rapids, but he calls us into the river anyway. He hasn't swallowed up our death, but he has swallowed up Death. We are not masters of our circumstances, but we are called to walk forward anyway, and to walk with courage. What we are given is the ability to humble ourselves, to grow, to trust, to choose God's path, and to choose love.

I've been having some difficulty in choosing life, but life keeps happening to me anyway. My eyes open in the morning. I feel hunger for breakfast. I want coffee. I want to kiss my baby and my husband. I breathe, I talk, I blink, I move around. Mostly though, I observe life around me; that pull forward (because that's what life really is - a pull forward), and I mimic what I see. I get out of bed, I take my pill, I make old person noises, I stretch and flop around in the blankets for a while. I cuddle my husband and 14-month-old. I sigh.

I think it's in these observations that I'll be able to remember how to live. After all, the forward pull is still there. What else do I really need?

The Most Unexpected Reward of Parenting

Toddler Milestone #23: breaking a glass bottle in the grocery store. 
#iknewthisdaywascoming #myfault

Today, this happened: Broken glass at the grocery store. I flushed pink with embarrassment but kept my cool. Later, as I got my 13-month-old out to the van I relaxed my composure a bit. When he started digging for my phone, I got upset. I whisked it out of his hands and tossed it onto the seat with a very stern "NO." This isn't a new battle, but there are moments when I'm tired of reminding him that my phone isn't a teething toy. 

He looked at me intently, studying my face. I got him buckled into his car seat and we went home, and then it hit me. I was struck by a beautiful revelation, and for me it became the most unexpected reward of parenting so far:

He doesn't cringe when we're angry.

I love, love, love his hugs and kisses and smiles, and the way he curls into me when he's settling down for a nap. I love that he reaches for me, calls me "Mama", and pulls me along by my finger. But the most rewarding thing so far has been the separation he feels between himself and our anger. Our foreheads get squished up, we huff out angry air, we speak in heavy tones and tell him, "No, don't hit me." or "No, don't play in the trash can. Play with this instead." and "Don't scratch me." 

Sometimes he cries with frustration because we set him down (if he won't stop hitting) but he never seems afraid of us. I keep expecting him to cringe, wince, flinch, blink, and try to squirm or run away. Instead, he looks into our frustrated faces without fear. His body is relaxed, his face is calm, and he doesn't associate our emotions with physical harm to himself. This may be something that you take for granted, but it's a total surprise to me. 

I received my first spanking when I was three months old, because I was crying as my diaper was being changed. My dad thought that was a pretty silly thing for an infant to do, and I imagine that he was upset that I wouldn't stop crying "for no reason". I quickly learned that when Dad was angry with me, it meant physical harm to myself. My husband and I were both raised with "anger spankings", and both of us were afraid that we would perpetuate this unhealthy discipline style onto our own kids in the future. Our little guy is now beginning his toddler years (Months? Years?) and has never been hit. We both realize that there are probably healthy and constructive ways to parent with spankings (depending on the temperament of the child and the situation at hand), but it's not an approach we want to take if at all possible.

Our toddler is sometimes headstrong, willful, defiant, and stubborn, but hey that's kids for you, right? And there's a plus side to toddlers' tendency to repeat an action a thousand million times: If they quit so easily, then would they ever learn to talk? Their willful persistence helps them grow in so many areas of their lives, because if they fall, they'll get back up. If they fail, they'll try again. If they get hurt, they'll bounce back. They aren't crushed by failure. So yes, of course there will be times when that gift ruffles our feathers, but we're not going to try and beat it out of him. We're learning persistence, patience, and "stubbornness" too - the good kind. 

Perhaps he's too young to be afraid of us, but perhaps not. He understands cause and effect. He moves his fingers out of the way when shutting doors and drawers. He stays away from the edge of the bed because he has fallen off, and it hurt. He knows that when these things happen, he feels pain.

The gift of his confidence in us is a beautiful thing. The fact that he can ponder our anger and learn to deal with his own (without threat of reprisal) is no small miracle to me. I fully expected him to shrink back or cower today when I got angry, but he didn't. And I'm so glad he didn't. I don't want him to cower before anyone's anger, or to be manipulated by the emotions of others. I don't want him to be controlled by anger (ours, his, or anyone's). 

I guess the reason I'm going through the effort to blog about this (during precious, precious toddler nap time) is because I'm so excited about it. I'm excited that I'm not repeating the mistakes of the past - I'm not bound to recycle bad habits. I can raise an emotionally healthy and strong boy and I don't have be out of control when I'm frustrated or angry. Most importantly, I'm not bound to take it out on him. I thank God for that, because I didn't think it was possible.