Opportunity

Sunday afternoon musings...

*Images from early May. 6AM beach time is becoming his thing... 

It’s Sunday mid-afternoon and I’m parked on a steep incline in a neighborhood overlooking the ocean. I need a break from the sameness of house quarantine for a bit. Maybe it’s more accurate to say I need a break from the constant making of food, cleaning up from food, restricting the over-consumption of food, and then more cooking and cleaning. Typically, the best of all breaks for me is a chance to run or to write.

For the last 10 weeks I have not repeated a single dinner. With the exception of the times Jon grilled burgers for us, or a couple nights when we had enough leftovers, or the occasional take-out, I’ve kept it variable at the table. When stay-at-home orders initially took place, and one quarantine day blended into the next, it felt like the least I could do to interject a bit of change. It was a fun creative exercise for a while, but I’m over it now. I really want the flexibility of falling back on old stand-by dishes now and then.

So much change has come in the way we are experiencing this COVID-19 situation. I find it interesting how we all naturally find ways of stabilizing, kind of like homeostasis of an organism. Though there are so many people and activities we are eager to get back to, there are many ways in which this forced pause on life has been good and restorative. I was happy to discover many unexpected gifts. There is newfound gratefulness for the things we once took for granted, and gratefulness for some things we were spared from; I’m thankful for a plethora of opportunity in the quiet, and new possibilities granted through change. God has paved our way in a multitude of ways and I am sure that, in time, we will see even more of his handiwork.

The crowds and traffic were pretty heavy as I drove down the coast this afternoon. Most people are not following the letter of the law on masks and social distancing, but, for the most part, they are following the spirit of the law. I just love that I live in a place where physical activity is facilitated. It makes me happy to see all the surfers, runners, bikers, skateboarders, walkers, and families strolling. I am right there with them on most days.

In fact, still in my pajamas, I took Andrew to the beach this morning at 6 am. He wanted to body board the barrels before breakfast and video/home/family church. I love this about him. And his quarantine mop head. I love that, too.

Before anyone thinks it's all wonderful here by the coast, though, know that there is a nauseating stench coming up from the sea on some days. Andrew smelled like sewage when I picked him up before breakfast today. The red tide has been particularly bad this year. Several weeks ago, the water looked like there had been a horrid biohazard spill, but at nighttime it sparkled with a magical bioluminescence. The algae bloom responsible for all of this is dying off, and now it reeks.

Of course my mind draws up word pictures when I’m putting in my running miles along the coast. The Light of God (daylight) shines and reveals what we really are on our own (something like biohazard material); once our true nature has been revealed to us and we are made right through his Son, God sends dark trials (night) to sanctify and beautify us (bioluminescence). We could never see what he is producing in us without the dark waves of trial. Oh, yes, and the changes may produce a temporary stench as we die to self. Others may even voice consternation by our changing, but death must always accompany new life.

I hope to be refined through this season. Initially, when the whole world was brought to its knees by a novel virus, I gave over any fear to God. If he wanted me to be among the dead, I asked that my death would influence others for eternity. If he would be pleased, I asked that my dying would be used to bring saving faith to others. Whatever it takes. Yes, I’m a little dramatic like that, but I’m also that confident in a good God who never falters on his promises and whose plans work for good. 

Our home has been peaceful as the world spins in a frenzy. I’m grateful for my husband. He is certainly aware of national and international circumstances, but his steadiness and calm have been remarkable. The atmosphere of our home could not be as peaceful if he lacked confidence in God and if he gave in to fear or anger. Perhaps our kids don’t see it yet, but I think this will be a testimony in time to come. These are instructive times, and it is up to us to teach/live what is good. This we know: We will be held in the good and loving hands of our Father today and always. We have a hope as an anchor to the soul, firm and secure. 

Truly, we get a good dose of reality during dinnertime conversations with Jon, but the overall atmosphere and take-away is a calm peace. It’s true that we are witnessing sociopolitical changes and crumbling economies; we try to picture what our future will look like (and that of a generation on the cusp of independence). Like it or not, we are each forced to make a choice regarding what we see. Jon leads us to see… opportunity. Change and disruption always unearth opportunity, and we are constantly discussing what those might be.

Beyond that, on the most basic and foundational level, we have all been given a pretty grand opportunity to build up faith and confidence in God. This must be a priority. (Parents, don’t squander it!)

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

~Katherine

When life keeps moving on...

I'm dipping into the archive of summer pictures again. I'm thankful for the way pictures take me back and all the good feelings of days gone by return once more. These moments of waiting to get into the state beach still feel fresh: faces looking at me through the sun roof, toes in the window, and my girl by my side. This spot is an August end-of-summer must, and we stay till the sun goes down.

This was Olivia's last day out on the waves before packing up for a new chapter of life. 

She gets the best beach hair...

Andrew on the long board

Jacob

Andrew's final summer before high school, a new chapter for him/us as well.

Our skin tones always tell the story of a good time...

And we laugh at the unfortunate tan lines.

The sun setting on the summer...

...and on life chapters.

"Summer 2019" written on the dewy windshield. 

Count the number of summers you have left with your kids, and then number your days. 

Be alert and aware: I promise you won't regret it.

>>:<<

Olivia came home last week for the first time since we dropped her off at school in August. Last night we met up with a couple of her friends on the journey back to school, and then she was off once more. Flying, really. "Thriving" might be even more appropriate.

I've wanted to write a few things about her transition to college, but the task seemed too great each time I sat down with a moment or two to collect my thoughts. The array of my emotion was more than I've had the energy to convey in type on a public post.

I've often said I've enjoyed every stage of parenting my kids. There never was an age or stage that I disliked or longed to pass by quickly. (True, potty training was a task I didn't love, but I stilled loved the toddler years so very, very much!) But now there is a parenting stage I very much dislike. I've discovered the hardest, absolute least favorite part of parenting is moving my child out. I know how necessary this is, of course, but - oh wow - the process hurts!

I've personally prepared for the transition for over a year as best I could. In fact, I've been very intentional about gradually preparing both myself and Olivia for the move to independence during all of her high school years. Those years were for practicing and training, for heart work and practical preparations to take place. All summer long, I consciously disciplined myself to love her well by entering into her joy rather than nurturing and feeding my sadness. I counted blessing and treasured final days.

No preparation can fully prepare, however. No mental and emotional foresight can fully anticipate an experience never lived out before. The final weekend before her departure was the worst! All the regrets, all the incomplete conversations, all the questions regarding the thoroughness of my mothering and mentorship... they all came as a wrecking flood. In recent weeks, however, I have been comforted with the knowledge that a completion of work was never required of me. In fact, it is God alone who carries the full weight of that role: "He who began a good work in [her] will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1:6)

As mothers, we know that love will cost us dearly. Olivia's arrival into the world enlightened me to the fact that motherhood renders our heart exceptionally and irreversibly vulnerable. C.S. Lewis said, "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken." 

As other mothers who sweetly came alongside me attested, there is an undeniable sorrow that surrounds the closing of this chapter of motherhood. We do rejoice (and let me be clear that there was and is plenty of cheer!), but the reality of a child's departure produces a certain ache. While I have not denied the passage of emotion, I consciously recognized that what we grieve is the result of immense blessing. Though it is painfully true that a chapter of our lives has forever closed - something has truly ended - we can rejoice that we lived it! We smile at the good! Jon and I have dwelt on all the gifts God has granted us: a daughter that walks with her Savior; a mature, responsible, and driven young woman; relationship that not only remained in tact through the teen years, but is poised for great friendship entering adulthood; and a new place of study where she will develop professional skills, form life-long, God-honoring friendships, and mature in her faith. These (and more) are the very things we hoped and prayed for her whole life long. How could there not be gladness, though her daily presence is thoroughly missed?

Each of the boys independently gifted her a little something to help her settle into dorm life: a coffee maker, a California poster, and a jar of Nutella. We held an early morning circle of prayer in our driveway as a family, and once more that evening when the parent-student day concluded. These are the heavy, wonderful moments of open-handed gratefulness and trust in God.

Not being a homesick kind of girl, Olivia is absolutely thriving! On so many levels, she was ready for this! She quickly made friends, connected at church, expanded her circle by joining a Bible study at another university, and participates in various groups/opportunities. And, she is excelling academically. 

People regularly ask me how it is living in an all-boy house now. Well, I no longer have a feminine counterpart to look at with a bewildered or humored look, depending on what the male activity evokes. I no longer have a daughter around to help pick outfits or to talk about things that would only interests a girl (though we don't always allow for distance to impede us). I've lost a female perspective in a whole host of discussions, and someone to simply converse with in the kitchen. And if, for instance, I get a hair cut or change up home decor, absolutely no one notices any more.

But overall it's still just the same family, and the atmosphere is generally unchanged. I have new opportunities, however, and I want to figure out how to be the best boy-mom possible. There are topics of conversation to tackle that may have been a little more inhibited in mixed company. Periods and tampons, for example, was a hilariously honest topic that came up on the way to the beach. Girls and relationships come up as well.

In truth, I have a crew of guys that need to be trained up for manhood. It's a task I feel ill-equipped to do, but I'm not going at it alone. I think about this duty frequently, even lose sleep as I wrestle through in prayer. I'm certain I don't know all the steps to take, all the conversations to have, or all the opportunities to present, but I'm taking it on in earnest. And for each son, I pray for God's guidance, protection, and calling; I pray they would grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.

So with each of my children, at home or not, the goal is always to love well. That requires conscious thought on how attitudes and expressions of love must always be changing if they are to be constructive and God-honoring as seasons of life change. Quality of love doesn't lessen, it only matures.


~Katherine

Donut Dip 2019

School has been underway for two weeks now, but as tradition would have it we started off the year with another Donut Dip morning. It's what we do on a morning of orientations and book pickup, just as the school year begins. We set out first thing in the morning, pick up a box of donuts, and run into the surf. There really is no time for lingering, but the moments together are savored. Knowing that each school year will bring new opportunities, challenges, and change, we dive into it and revel in the sweet moment of now. Our donut dip is a fun way to do it...

Bedheads are encouraged on this one morning.

Total simplicity is how we do it.

Michael didn't wait for the rest of us. He was too fast for my capture; his leg can been seen in the surf below...

We got one single shot on my camera's timer. Too bad for the guy with the silly run!!

One of my favorite summer activities is playing in the waves with my kids. I'm happy Jon captured the memory for me. I love the fact that this is us- all of us. Together. There is so much bound up in that one word, and gratitude is just one of them. I have much reason for rejoicing!

We moved Olivia into her dorm on Monday (more about that some other time). It's no joke that time goes by quickly. As for the school year, we now have university included to a lineup of community college, public charter, independent study, online classes, and homeschool. In addition to a plethora of other commitments, I feel I have a few too many balls to juggle. Experience has taught me, however, to just keep juggling and picking up the inevitable dropped balls. I'll be better at it when October comes around.

Happy September, friends!


~Katherine

The Hope of Change

Summer Monday mornings are glorious. After a busy week, then a busy weekend, and another busy week ahead, Mondays still seem fabulous when it's summer. Busy, busy, busy... blah, blah, blah, but I'm bringing on Monday with gusto! I woke early to take Andrew to his Junior Guards competition day, and my brain struggled to cope for the better part of an hour. It's the 1st of July and June Gloom appears to be working overtime. No matter: I put on a pretty blouse, some dangly earrings, and wedge sandals, and I loaded a few books and journals into the backseat in anticipation of some quiet time in a bustling coffee shop. 

My mind is nearly always bursting with things to write: events to record, lessons worth transcribing, thoughts needing systematic processing through writing, items of thanksgiving and praise, or observations made (practices to emulate or avoid). I've said it many times before, though, that a household of nearly 4 teens doesn't lend itself well to sitting and writing. 

Times are ever changing.

Of the many things I want to embrace, change is high on the list. Embrace change. May we ever be in a state of transition, always learning and improving, always moving forward, always growing in Christ-likeness. In a universe slowly and steadily swirling to its final doom, stunted growth and stagnation ought to be repulsive. In fact, if we settle for the comfort of what is familiar, we only willingly give in to a state decline. And we slowly rot. Decline is a rule of life, a scientific reality, and the promise of the curse. 

But we get to HOPE for change, betterment, growth, and advancement. Everyday, strive for newness of life deep in the soul through the power of Christ.

Transition is defined as the process or period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Transitions are defining this period of life in my home. Kids are transitioning to teens, teens are transitioning to adulthood, and parents are scrambling to make appropriate adjustments with some semblance of finesse. There is an ever-present undertone of redefinition as old ways of life are passing and new realities emerge. We learn to let go of what was, and learn to embrace what is.

I must keep learning to let go without too much mourning and intentionally smile at the newness of 'now.' Is it typical for a mother to grieve a little behind the smile? Yes, but we must learn to embrace all the gifts-- the ones passing behind us and the ones coming before us. We must be equally willing to let go as we are willing to receive.

This is the summer for embracing all kinds of good things. And some hard things. A pep-talk like this is not out of the blue for me!

>>:<<

Pictures from our spring break trip in April in Arizona~

Monster lizard hunting

My two older boys and I finished the hike alone, while the other half of the family found the strain of an upward climb in the desert heat to be too much. It turned out that they were the first of the family to succumb to a virus, which we all shared by the end of the week.

Why not. (This is a statement, not a question.) 

Live freely.

Physical stagnation led to decline, so I'm working hard to reverse immobility and weakness of the spine and shoulders. Last year I discovered it was a struggle to merely curve far enough to lift myself off the ground. It couldn't be described as a 'backbend!' The embarrassment was nearly enough to keep me from continuously trying. But slow and steady progress is the goal, and consistency is key. In this case, backwards progress is thrilling!

I got carried away, but my boys are good sports. Shoulder flexion needs improving, as does core strength, but I'm making progress! That's all I can hope for.

>>:<<

The day has nearly past and I'm resting now from my work. I hosted a dinner meeting at my house; since I'm not taking part in the meeting itself, the kitchen is already clean and the day is ready to repeat again tomorrow. Tomorrow, however, we will host a pool party for the youth group. It's going to be loud and messy and wonderful!

I close the day remembering that only Christ gives life. He alone brings true change, the kind of change that truly matters and ultimately allows us to influence others for eternity. He alone is the reason we can hope. So we pray for the salvation of loved ones and for our sanctification in the face of sin and death. He is at work bringing change in me, making me more like Him day by day. 

Aren't you glad we are not stuck here?! What a relief. 

"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit." 
2 Cor. 3:18


~Katherine