Quiet

Dear Reade,

I just got word that one of the elder sages of my spiritual formation group passed away on Thursday evening. I remember being in a group with her in April last year. In the midst of the conversation she related being in discussion with a friend of hers who was praying all the time, asking God what she should do. E answered, "If you would just shut up, maybe you would be able to hear what God is saying to you."

I've enjoyed time today to be silent. I am grateful.

Love, Jennifer

A birthday party

Yesterday, six months after The Boy's actual birthday, we celebrated the anniversary of his birth with his friends. And my friends too, to be fair. We bowled. There were cupcakes and presents and a wonderful time was had by all. We even had the bowling alley mostly to ourselves for the whole time. Huzzah!

Dear Reade,

I've been gone from this blog space for a long time. I can't say what shifts bring me in and out again, but I am here now.

The last ... five months have brought some pretty big changes to our family and our house. Girlie speaks dependent clauses in a sentence now: When I get into the bath I wash my feet. And she asks for things using the construction "Pease I have..." The Boy is shooting up in height like the perennials in the garden seemingly tiny one moment and then there in fullness. He's making shifts as he learns about obedience -- not harsh, forced external obedience, but an obedience that allows him to be himself. Settled, bright, and relational.

And I've been packing, sorting, cleaning, shifting and letting go of so many things and ideas. After these many years of hoping I would get to sewing and quilting projects (Yes, she without a functioning sewing machine) I've let go of those piles of saved up clothes and cloth. Someday I'd like to enter that world again but for now being released from the ongoing expectations is so freeing. Even to have given you the garden feels freeing.

Each night as we do bedtime with the kids we say these words, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." Depending on the translation "I shall not want" is also "I have everything I need." Except I have been living in this space as though I need to keep a stockpile of everything I might need. A stockpile of things to do to keep me distracted. My reserves of things -- to do, to be, to become -- have taken up so much mental, emotional, psychological and physical space. I don't want the space for it's own sake but for the freedom to become my truest self.

Kathleen Norris in her book Acedia and Me says:

Perform the humblest of tasks with full attention and no fussing over the whys and wherefores....To dwell in this desert and make it bloom requires that we indulge neither guilt nor vainglorious fantasizing but struggle to know ourselves as we are.

There are echos in that of these lines I have loved from Buechner:

Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.

I don't want "stuff" to get in the way of attending to the realities of my life, our life together, our lives with our family and friends. We are blessed beyond words. We have everything we need. We lie down in green pastures. We rest beside quiet waters.

Thanks be to God.

And, I do love you.

Love, Jenn

Thinking about a new house

Dear Jenn,
so the house that you love (I don't mind it) and the neighbourhood I hate. I guess it's not necessarily a deal breaker. It's not like I spend a lot of time out of doors. With climate change we may be in the midst of a new paradigm of wet weather that we won't emerge from except in a geological timescales. Perhaps small is beautiful after all. There are things that can be done in small spaces. I guess those half dead Lombardy poplars at the back fence could be removed and replaced with other trees that are more amenable to my sensibilities. The shed could be turned into a greenhouse or something too. In any case, I'm trying to think beyond my comfort zone.

Of course, the money is another issue. It's a sad state of affairs that I don't actually have any idea how much money I make. Indeed, I don't recall my hourly wage. I'm not really detail oriented as it turns out. I remember Angeline's birth like it was yesterday but I have to think about it for a bit to remember the date of her birth. I'm trapped in a pre-calendar, pre-clock mindset or something. But back to the cash. I don't even know if we could get a mortgage big enough to buy another house but then again, they sure wanted to throw money at us last time. Far more than we were willing to take on but we were both working then.


I want my kids to have friends in the neighbourhood that they can play with and Ni will miss having Elijah across the street. I'm unsure of what or who is in this new neighbourhood. The indicators were a bit damning when I was there. Granted a very brief time period.

All that to say, that I'm willing to consider it.

Love Reade.

Thinking about our place and a new computer

Dear Jenn,
So I've been thinking about getting a new desktop for the family. One that would be down in the living room area. I've also been thinking about our old one and using it as a server for our video, pictures and anything else we have that we'd like to access. It could also be a backup for the computers we have. I like redundancy I guess.
I'm unsure about the timing though. Should I buy it sooner rather than later? It's not like we've saved up for it but we do have a line of credit.
With the changes you've made to the house and your thoughts about things lately it just makes me think that maybe an upgrade would be good for all of us. Making the old computer into a server with Ubuntu server software and then having access throughout the house wherever that house ends up being.
These are my thoughts for now.
Love Reade

Out with the old...

Dear Reade,

It's New Year's Eve. 2010 has been quite the year. Full of fun. Full of frustration. Full of...okay, it's a good thing that I have written records of some of the many things that happened this year or I fear I mightn't remember.

The year our little girl turned one. Learned to walk. Started talking. Today she said, "Sit in box. Boat." The year she had her first salon haircut. Her first pee on the potty. She's a perpetual helper, adorable and funny and lisp-y and wonderful. And she removes my keys from my purse most everyday and puts them somewhere clever.

The year our boy turned four. Started practicing on an Early Rider for his two wheeler days. Started pre-school. Wanted to sleep over at someone's house without us. Started saying how much we didn't love him because we wouldn't give in to his demands. And this very day sat on my lap facing me, wrapped his arms around my neck, ran his fingers through my hair and let me enjoy the sun beaming on him and I as we rested at the table after lunch.

This year you finished your final full time semester of your degree. Wow. I'm so proud of you. Amazed at the work you've done to get through courses and assignments and exams while still being present to the kids. And to me. While still being in touch with your friends and keeping up on assignments at Springboard and taking out the trash. You've been swamped so many times and come up for air and kept going. I'm proud. And grateful. And glad to celebrate being done this phase of our family life.

This year I resigned my position at First. Fourteen years of being on staff at one church or another and I'm so glad not to have to juggle all of that with parenting our children and being a hub for our family life. I'm glad to be able to be with our kids day by day. To be here to send you off in the morning and welcome you home at night.

What a year. What a life. I'm in love. With you. With our kids. With our lives right now.

Love, Jenn

He's four!

Dear Reade,

It's hard for me to believe that four years ago at this time we had never met Adoniram face to face.

Here we are, four years into his life and he's wrapped around my heart and yours and evidence of his presence is everywhere...

He's four. He says he feels different today. Taller. And he spotted a contrail this morning out the bathroom window. A great start to his fifth year.

Love you,

Jenn