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

December 2018

When most people have long since posted their Christmas pictures and New Year's resolutions, I'm reaching back to the beginning of December. I maintain that late is better than never.

There was a line that swirled around my head all month, words of a carol that enveloped my heart in occasions of quiet.

"Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth"

Yes, the soul felt its worth because the Lord came to save. His love establishes our worth, makes us precious, makes us whole. What a marvelous truth to grasp, or at least endeavor to comprehend and simply receive. I guess I'd glossed over the words in times past, but this year I was gripped by them repeatedly. Over and over, the words captured my thoughts: "and the soul felt its worth." To feel is far more powerful than to merely know.

December was fabulous: Parts were fabulous in celebration and parts were fabulously hard. I am committed to seeing and remembering the good while learning from our trials, so I will dwell mostly on the good parts today. I pondered the more difficult aspects before the Lord, and speak of them carefully with those closest to me, confident that good will always emerge.

December is for parties of all kinds, especially birthdays. Although Andrew's birthday is at the end of November, he celebrated with friends a week later. (The power went out that night and we spent the bulk of our time iceskating, so I have limited pictures on my DSLR.)

Fourteen years for Andrew. He's doing life well. He is hard-working, entrepreneurial, disciplined, kind. In the car this morning, he told me how yesterday's sermon from Psalm 90 helped him to further understand God's eternality and the immeasurable grace of his forgiveness. I have so much to be thankful for.

A Sunday morning "birthday" picture, below~

This one makes me smile. The placement of his hand is proof that the early teen years are awkward, a time of growing comfortable in how one projects himself to the public. Is it OK to show affection to your mother? Naturally and regularly affectionate, his uneasiness humors me. I am reminded that we are in a season where both my understanding and affirmation are important in his development. (Evidently, I forgot to stand straight and suck in, which says something about how much I care about my "image projection" these days!)

December is for Michael. Sixteen on the 16th.

His slender frame is 6'3" tall. It has become a near impossible task to find clothes that fit. We have to choose between length or width/waist.

The Friday before his birthday, I had arranged to secretly drop off a bunch of cupcakes with one of his friends at school. As luck would have it, it turned out to be a combined lunch hour (all grades) AND open mic. The whole school sang Happy Birthday.

We drove up the coast for a late birthday lunch after church on the 16th, then took in the vast ocean views from the hills before heading back for him to meet up with friends at the theater.

He is beautiful to me. He will be a wonderful adventure for a special someone to discover some day. He is an interesting mix of extroversion and introversion. He is well-liked at school, humorous, and fascinating if he allows you in. He is understated in his skills and abilities, and a wealth of random facts. Things that are unclear to me tend to be so obvious to him. And, if I'm honest, he remains my "wild card." He is the child that leaves me searching, wondering what's on the inside, surprised by what emerges; he keeps me on my knees, sending up flares for prayers, and dangerously more like myself than not.

These days are going by too fast. To those in the infant, toddler, and pre-school years, be aware of the brevity of time now. And if your season is in the bickering middle years, or the smelly pre-teen years, or the precarious teens, endeavor to enjoy each stage dearly. I promise you won't regret it.

December in California is for pomegranates. I was thankful for some regular days of regular home life, afternoon sunlight, a superfood of ruby-colored jewels, and a son who enjoys listening to literature while helping out his mom. I paid him $1 for each pomegranate he seeded, even though he ate a ton.

This December was especially for "lasts." The month is the last of the year, of course, but it marked many other lasts for me. Would this be the last time for the whole family to gather together in the living room to decorate the tree? Probably yes.

It was also probably the last time all four kids accompany me to the tree lot.

We picked out a lovely tree with a wonky top, making it hard to hold the heavy star, but at least we were all to blame for our selection. It took a couple attempts with Jacob atop Jon's shoulders; finally we pulled up chairs to climb up and fasten it. It still gave me grief all season!

Another last: Olivia's last morning departure for her last high school final. I chose to smile past the lump in my throat.

Jacob and I foraged for evergreens and pinecones together. Andrew had more interesting things to do, and I suspect this might be the last year Jacob tags along as I search for Christmas decor. We pitched and bowled the pinecones into the bag before racing to the party store to buy Olivia's graduation balloons.

A short word about reality... December has traditionally proven to be a season of trial in this household, and burn-out has marked us repeatedly. Ministry was never meant to be an easy way of life, so why should we be surprised? Still, we are broadsided at times. We are thankful for some personal time of respite to regroup, reconnect, refocus, exhale, and strategize for a new beginning. (My short word is over.)

Christmas Eve family games~

Christmas morning waiting~

To me, the face of the giver is just as wonderful as the face of the receiver...

One of my gifts: an engraved brass plate for my preacher-husband's pulpit.

Andrew took it upon himself to fill everyone's stockings. He packed them with Coca-Cola bottles, treats and snacks, gift cards, and carefully selected personal gifts. He's claimed the stockings for next year.

This was the last picture on my camera for the year~

Here's to looking at the new year with big, expectant eyes. May our "lasts" toast cheerfully with "new beginnings" like good friends gathered for New Years.

New beginnings. Let that wash over you with joy.


~Katherine

So School Started (+ Donut Dip)

According to tradition, we had our annual "Donut Dip" event the week school started: Morning donuts and ocean dip when summer transitions into the school year. Orientations, assemblies, conferences, book pickup, and community college were all happening, but the morning allowed a bit of extra time for this sweet tradition.

Clifftop view of our favorite Donut Dip spot on an overcast morning

Just the necessities: Towels and donuts

I took a few shots before setting the camera down and joining them...

Thankful for teens that give up their last morning to sleep in a bit to hang with their family...

Not gonna be our holiday family picture!

>:<

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Well here I am again, at a coffee shop. Nowadays, it seems like the only times I sit alone in a coffee house are also the only times I blog. And I'm so tired. Jon knows I need time alone more than I need sleep so we canceled our date night and he sent me out to a coffee shop. I'm not alone here in this place filled with college students "studying," but no one needs me and the endless list of thing to do isn't staring me in the face. I'm even ignoring emails and texts that wait my attention. September rivals December in busyness for me in the areas of life and ministry, but Jon is kindly forcing me to care for myself a bit. We are once again coming to the realization that we've got to make sure we're both doing this, especially in light of another recent publicized suicide. We could both drown in the needs of others if we're not careful, lonely but always surrounded by people. Self care looks different for different people, but some of us need others to facilitate it.

We've got a couple weeks of school under our belt now and I'm thankful for a long weekend that helped us ease into the new pace of living. Early mornings are not my jam, but that's just too bad because there's no choice. I do early mornings in a painful fog after spending 10 minutes of alarm snooze time curled up in my bedroom chair. It's my coping method before I hit the ground running. I've run most of life super tired.

So after running around my house doing the things I need to do and helping others do the things they need to do, I ran around town for appointments while trying to settle on a logical plan with a son who grabbed the wrong laptop on his way out the door. Texting with kids while they're in class isn't always super effective. Then lunch and more school work. Oh, and a rare fifteen minute power nap and prayer time where I remembered the desperate exhaustion I used to feel due to a medical condition. I'd just pray in my weakness, "Help me." Today I thanked God for taking me through that trial which marked most of my adult years. Later, I snapped at a son for struggling through something hard with an attitude of complaint, only proving to him I am definitely not one single bit better and we are equally in need of help in our weaknesses. Every day: "Help me."

Tired or not today, I ran my 7 miles. I don't feel I have the reserve to put in my miles most days, but who does? I know I need training in the area of mental and emotional perseverance, so I kept moving when my head said to stop. I've never liked mind games, not even with myself. Learn this well: Sometimes you have to tell your mind to shut up because your body and your personhood are stronger than your mind wants you to believe.

So now here I am in this noisy shop with ridiculously fluffy hair, proof I showered before dinner but no time for pampering.

Man. I'm rambling. Sorry. I have better posts started, but haven't had the time to finish. Usually I just let those posts go because the flow of thought has past. And sitting down to blog now that I do it so infrequently is daunting because I feel like I've got to catch up and recap all the events that have transpired. I resist. The task is too much.

We had a good summer. The end. :)


~Katherine

Putting Up a Fight

My moment is here. It's a moment to sit and write while I wait for a bag of liquid iron to finish infusing into my vein. The IV fluids are cold and my face feels a wee bit tingly.

It's a funny thing. They tell me I run on fumes. I have too little iron, a low red blood cell count with immature cells, an inadequate ability to supply my body with oxygen, and other abnormalities. Oxygen is absolutely critical for life. Compared to what I've known for most of my adult years, I'll gladly take running on fumes. My base of comparison was living life half dead prior to these IV treatments. Running on fumes is pretty awesome in my opinion, because it feels much better than surviving half dead.

A lot can be done with fumes. I ran a half marathon every weekend for the last three weeks. The first was by accident because I got too far from home on my intended 12 mile training run. The second was at a comfortable training pace, and the third, yesterday, was my actual race. I've learned to train my mind just as much as I train my body; perhaps training my mind to fight and push and continue has been most critical.

I'm not there yet. I'm not anywhere, except maybe somewhere between the start and the finish line of this race called life. In one way or another, we all run this race somewhat unprepared, perhaps even disadvantaged. The training of our mind (and heart) to fight is essential if we want to run well.

Bad memories and present implications have been plaguing me again recently. It has been a mental and emotional fight. Sometimes I feel angry and start directing my fighting at the wrong thing. Other times I think I'm losing my fight completely. The crushing weight returns; or it's like a sucker punch to the gut when I least expect it, when my stance is not firm. I am pummeled. Deep rooted insecurities return and I am undone. My ability to fight seems too small, weak, half dead.

A few things struck me this week:

*Reality must be accepted. Acknowledgement is essential, whether that is accepting the reality and limitation of health, or accepting real events of the past that truly did cause lasting harm, or acknowledging pain and weakness. No one can make true progress when reality is denied. In order to heal and recover, or just to plain cope in a constructive way, reality must be affirmed. Otherwise, we stay victim.

*Isolation is harmful. In fact, it is utterly dangerous. Isolation can be an avenue to greater pain and loss. Proverbs 18:1 warns us: "A man who isolates himself seeks his own desire; He rages against all wise judgment." Isolation is where self-pity (or self-indulgence) is a rapid downward spiral. We must let others know our struggle. We are meant to carry each other's burdens, which means there are also times when we permit others to come alongside and carry our burdens while providing wise counsel.

*Scriptural truth and obedience to God applies to all parts of my life. A friend kindly helped me see that I have segregated certain areas of my past to an "untouchable" category. She reminded me that God saw it all, he knows every detail, and his love and compassion reaches back to meet me there whenever my mind brings back haunting memories. Philippians 4:8 is a prescription far better than any pill could offer! It is a training plan for the mind and heart wherein we replace the infection and plague of sin and its effects with spiritual health and wholeness through Christ. It may seem like a simple plan at first glance, but when you put it into practice it is a massive training plan and spiritual fight!

*We are not defined by our past. In Christ, all things are made new. We run with our eyes forward, filled with hope. The race is not ours to run alone, and the fight has actually been won. With the help of my God, I train my heart to stay firmly planted in that knowledge.

Another thing that struck me again this week is that I have a husband who is fighting for me, with me. I am undeserving.

>>:<<

It's the afternoon now. It's another beautiful day, and we're celebrating Jacob's half birthday. Eleven and a half is a pretty fun age in my opinion. I brought his friend home from school and I laughed on the inside the whole way home. They had the back windows down and they played "Sweet and Sour" at every red light. Most people are sour. Know that if a kid smiles and waves at you, they are probably testing your character: please be sweet for your own sake.

At one point on the drive Jacob stuck his head out the window with his tongue hanging out and said, "Let's see why dogs like this so much!"

I let the boys pick out some ice cream to take home in celebration of Jacob's half birthday. They picked double fudge, and I served up six cones from the back deck in the mid-afternoon sun. A little bit later the boys re-enter with their faces smeared with melted chocolate because they wanted to see what they'd look like with beards. Boys crack me up. ❤

>:<

Evening now. I've been needed to help out with Algebra recently. Tonight I'm immersing myself in factoring trinomials with mixed signs and I'm a little lost. I haven't been keeping current with the lessons, so jumping in is mental gymnastics. Just sort of remembering how to do the easy problems is not cutting it, which basically answers the question I'm always asked: "Why do I have to know this anyway?" 

If anything, I hope my kids will come away from their years at home knowing that their mom will do everything in her power to help them succeed. And I hope they always know I'm fighting for them.

Good night...

~Katherine