Messy Spring Days & Grace Enough For This Moment

Life is rather messy right now.
 It is spring and so much is happening on the farm.

Farm babies and farm & garden projects

 and friends here for days on end,  my relatives here for a week, and then unexpectedly more overnight guests, a school farm tour, a Passover celebration with friends,

 and meat processing and.......

Yes, I am tired. Everything around me is in some level of uproar, or semi to complete disorder and my insides are in just exactly that shape.
Of course, there is the daily dealings with Reactive Attachment Disorder.
Our adventures in the last year with RAD are not ones that fit under the heading of "joyous adventures" but they are certainly daily adventures.
The other night I was thinking that this blog address should be scrapped for something a bit less upbeat, and a bit more realistic.  Who knew that one child could so completely turn your life upside down and backwards and inside out.
I keep telling myself desperately that there is hope and it will get better and I keep believing we are making progress.  I begin to really believe myself and then I am slammed back down with a reality check and destruction like a wake following his footsteps and lurking like a shadow in the corners.  Then I am not so sure, but still I think (I hope) we are making progress even if it is 3 steps forward and two steps backward.

Once again, I grab my notebook and I write desperately, listing my thanks, just being grateful, and hanging on to hope.  It gets me through these days.  Small things really, but good things, happy things.

the first yellow iris

foaming white milk

birdsong

a tender embrace from the strong arms of my man

apricot hair lotion and sweet baby curls

blue skies

grace to smile

forgiveness

dark chocolate with currants

a hot shower
mounds of clean laundry fresh from the line

So, I keep counting and it helps, it really does.

Of Valentines Day and a Broken Arm

It's Valentines Day  and I am not making paper heart notes or baking something special for all my men.  Instead, I am waiting in the waiting room of a hospital while my son is wheeled into an operating room and the anesthesia takes over his little body and doctor's work on his arm.  No, this is not exactly what anyone was planning yesterday.

It seems like forever ago, that moment just before 3PM yesterday when I heard him scream and I found him sitting in the driveway holding his arm, the dirt bike lying beside him.

The bike was fine, the boy was not.  Later on while x-rays were being taken Keishon commented that it looked just like a grasshoppers leg complete with a claw for a hand.  It really did look awful and I didn't need the x-rays to confirm that it was broken.  There was no question about whether or not it was broken and that is why we went straight to the orthopedic clinic.  Keishon was so brave and strong. He was in an awful LOT of pain but he was a real little man. Everyone (including me) was totally amazed.

I had hoped they would set it in the doctor's office but they doctor's felt sure it would need a pin and so scheduled surgery.
 We prayed about that and that prayer was answered.  He didn't end up needing a pin and they didn't do surgery like they expected though they were all prepared for it and he still had anesthesia.

We see very little of doctors, or they of us. I should have expected the little trip we had, but I forget just how unusual we really are.
The shocked faces of the nurses and me repeating multiple times, to multiple individuals:

"No, he doesn't have any medical records."
"No, he has never seen a doctor before"
"No, he has never has had medications"
"I don't know if he is allergic/sensitive to any drugs, he hasn't ever had any."
"No, he hasn't ever taken any prescription meds"  (Wait, a second, didn't I already just say this twice a moment ago?)
"No, he hasn't had any immunizations"
"No, none"
"No, We don't have a family doctor"
"That is correct. He has never been to a pediatrician, or family doctor, or a hospital"

The nurse shrugs her shoulders and says, "Well, I guess he is pretty healthy."  and I almost laugh outloud.

I think it is confirmed, I should get "The World's Weirdest Mom" Prize today.
Seriously, how weird is this mom? I guess he is still alive, right? And, he does seem healthy enough.

Even through his pain Keishon was rather entertained by these conversations and astutely observed that they kept asking the same thing over again.  I explained that they most likely didn't really believe me.  Given his limited world view he wanted to know why they would think he needed to see a doctor before breaking his arm. :-)

And now it is all over.  We are home again, and I am exhausted .

Mr. man is displaying a bright green cast and doing quite well.  He is drinking lots of mullein tea and taking handfuls of Complete Tissue & Bone Formula.  Last night he slept much better and woke up to reclaim his big brother status.

I would like very much to pack up the dirt bikes and send them back to where they came from.  Surprisingly, I am out numbered, none of the men/boys think that this is at all necessary.

Wordless Wednesday

Washing dishes....

 "Simple living is about living deliberately. Simple living is not about austerity, or frugality, or income level. It's about being fully aware of why you are living your particular life, and knowing that life is one you have chosen thoughtfully. Simple living is about designing our lives to coincide with our ideals."

- Janet Luhrs -

I stood at the sink tonight with all the dinner dishes around me and Little Miss sitting amid it all and I wondered why it is that suddenly we stopped doing things like washing dishes by hand, rinsing, drying, talking and bonding, and just plain sharing life together.

 Several months ago my dishwasher decided it had lived a long life and washed quite enough dishes. Without warning it went out with a bang and nearly scared me to death.

In a trice my man was beside me, sure that he had just heard the report of a gun right there in our little kitchen. 

Ever since that night, I've been washing dishes, or more accurately, "we" have been washing dishes.

I don't always do them myself and I almost never do them alone.  The boys help and naturally, Lex always wants to be right in the middle of it.

Do you remember doing dishes two people at a time? Standing at the sink shoulder to shoulder, one washing, one drying and all the time talking about the day or your interests?  Aren't times like this the times when bonding takes place?

Maybe family ties and home relationships were stronger before we had all these lovely time saving devices.  We hurry through our “chores” so that we can rush on and “relax” in front of the computer (or maybe the tv) and stay there for hours on end, everyone engrossed in their own thing, no one talking, just simply glued to the screen.

It is not that I think dishwashers (or any other time saving appliance or invention) is inherently wrong.  Not at all.  In fact I am very grateful for many of them, but I do think maybe….

just maybe, they aren't all that we think they are.  Maybe the time we are saving is simply being wasted and doing dishes with a child might actually be worth far more than the minutes the dishwasher saves us.

Next time you go into the kitchen, instead of popping the dishes in the dishwasher, try it. 

Stop and fill up your sink with warm water and soapy bubbles, turn on some quiet music, and use the time you are washing dishes to talk with your kids or if you are are alone to simply think and pray, and relax.

It isn't so very quite here when I do dishes. There isn’t a lot of relaxing happening.  But there is plenty of splashing and giggles and conversation, sometimes interspersed with short little prayers.  I am trying to learn this, trying to make prayer a fiber woven through my days and moments.  Prayers like the ones Ann Voskamp wrote about so beautifully.

 Someday there will be more quiet moments in my life, and I am told that then I will miss these loud and often chaotic times.  

I think that's true, and yet somedays I still find myself dreaming of quietness and tidy floors.

2012 - Year of Hope

The idea to give a word, or a name to the year did not originate with me.  I borrowed it after reading Ann Voskamp's blog, A Holy Experience.  This resonated with me, and I knew immediately that My word for this year needed to be "HOPE".

I walked outdoors and heard the bean pods rustle and rattle in the wind. They are shriveled and dried and apparently lifeless.  In hope, I gathered up the pods and tore out the vines tiding up this bed for the winter and covering it with spent hay.
 Later inside the boys joined me in breaking the pods open and collecting the beauty from within. What appears dead is actually a dormant life of bounty that waits for the warm breath of spring.

This is a reminder to hope, to believe even when the marks of death are written everywhere and the cold wind bites and stings bringing tears to my eyes. I am startled with the realization that this is a parable of life.  Simple and profound, and I whisper thank you, because I needed this moment of realization.

    " Hope abides; therefore I abide.

Countless frustrations have not cowed me.
I am still alive, vibrant with life.
The black cloud will disappear,
The morning sun will appear once again
In all its supernal glory. "

- Sri Chinmoy

A quick search in BlueLetterBible and hope shows up 130 times.  I am reading these verses, reminding myself again and again.  It is, after all, the only reason we have for hope.  He is Hope, our only hope.

Psa 31:24	Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD.
Psa 33:18	Behold, the eye of the LORD [is] upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy;

And so I trust.............. and I hope in Him ..............and through Him.
I am choosing not to give up, choosing to believe in new life and restoration.  Choosing to hope........this is my year of hope.


Definition of HOPE

intransitive verb
1: to cherish a desire with anticipation
2archaic : trust
transitive verb
1: to desire with expectation of obtainment
2: to expect with confidence : trust
: to hope without any basis for expecting fulfillment


Have you ever named a year?  Did you name this year?  Would you share your story with me?