art, finally

After nearly eight months of 40% creative block and 60% distraction, I finally finished this piece for Rhys' room. I am really, really, pleased with it. For all you scrappers out there (I won't lie, I've tried - but I'm just not), I used scrapbooking supplies (namely, the "Bohemia" line from My Mind's Eye. They're one of my favorites.): rub-ons (on top of the glass - the lady at Archiver's said they wouldn't stick. Not so!), double-sided paper, and some transparency-like die-cuts. The only thing that I didn't find at a scrapbook store were the transparencies that I printed the quote onto. It's from "Peter Pan". We saw the quote framed at a local store and loved it, so I decided to use it in the piece. Hopefully it will spark Rhys' imagination. It's fanciful, I think. The window frame itself is from Habitat for Humanity's ReStore. (Go there, if you haven't already. There's a location in Omaha and in Des Moines.)

Once we hung it up, Rhys looked at it and said, "OH! Pwetty!" Another satisfied customer.

today

My head cannot hold another jot or tiddle. Not another piece of information, not another question without answer, not another problem without a fix. I need sunshine and the color of shiny gold and happy exclamation points. This third day of rain isn't helping matters. The sun is up there, behind the clouds, basking in its own warmth and glory, while we huddle under eaves down here. I need a break in this weather.

zzzzzzzz

This week has been a full one for us - a lot of brainstorming, planning, doing. On top of that, Rhys and I haven't been feeling well (I guess I was past due for my annual end-of-winter cold). Last night we went to Lowe's, did the homeowner thing and spent more than we should have, came home and put the kiddo to bed, caught up on 'Friday Night Lights', and realized that it was only 10:00. Woohoo! We were giddy - early to bed! Usually Michael is the night owl - I used to be, but since having Rhys, I've quickly realized that the only way to get a decent amount of sleep is to turn in before 11. As Michael noted, I am just a person who needs my sleep. It's funny - I remember staying up til 2 or 3 in the morning during my freshman year of college, sleeping in til noon and not thinking twice about it. Now the thought horrifies me - mostly because I know that there is no way (unless I drug my daughter) that I'm going to be sleeping in til the sun is high in the sky.

So last night, we ran upstairs, racing to see who could hit the sack first, singing Chumbawumba's, "Tub Thumping" (!) all the way. Michael cheated - he used mouthwash instead of brushing his teeth. It was like a slumber party, giggling at how lucky we were for this rare chance to sleep for almost nine hours. What luxury! There's an old song from the 1890s called "Please Go 'Way and Let Me Sleep", where the singer sleeps through the house burning down around him. This morning, drinking my coffee more out of habit than really needing the caffeine, I realized something about myself: if you love me, let me sleep.

heirlooms

Last week, when Michael's grandpa and his wife, Julia, came for a visit, she presented Rhys with a quilt. It was hand-pieced, just for her. Julia makes these for her children, step-children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren; no two are alike, and usually she waits until they have graduated high school or are getting married to make them....but she's not sure for how much longer she'll be able, and so she decided to make Rhys' now. It's big enough for a queen-sized bed; and as quilts go, it's gorgeous.


Seeing that quilt, and seeing Rhys cuddle up in it ("I seepy!" she says) reminded me of my own quilt, made by my great-grandma when I was a year old. It's much smaller, but once I got it out of it's box, it took me back twenty years. I used to keep it on the end of my little twin bed with the wicker headboard, and on cold nights or for a nap, I'd pull it up over me. I'd lay on it, tracing the meandering lines of stitches, memorizing the patterned fabrics. I remember liking best the squares with dogs on it and another with the little flowers on a blue background. Whenever I'd flip over a corner and see "L. 1981" stitched into the back, I'd think of my great-grandma in Louisville, Nebraska, wondering what she was doing right then.

rhys-r-oni

Man, our little girl is growing up. Today, at lunch, Rhys finished a bowl of applesauce, held it up and said:

"Bye-bye, 'sauce! See ya, 'sauce!"

I don't know why, but it made me laugh so hard! Probably because she was so sincere, and it caught me off-guard. As I cleared the dishes, she proceeded to say the same thing to her sippy cup. "Bye, milk! See ya, milk! Bye-bye!"

In other news, we've been potty training since mid-February...and now seem to be almost done (hopefully I didn't just jinx myself). Talk about trying my everloving patience. I found reserves of compassion I didn't know I had...some days having to dig pretty deep to find it.

My favorite potty-training moment: after Rhys (finally) pooped for the first time in the potty chair, she turned around to look at it, noticed it was partially covered by toilet paper, and said, "OH! It's sleeping!" Yeah, babe. Sleeping with the fishes.

easter

Easter weekend in Des Moines - just the three of us.

On Saturday morning, we went to our first egg hunt. Hosted by our church, it was the coldest, windiest morning for a hunt; but Rhys enjoyed herself....although we aren't sure what she enjoyed more - gathering eggs, eating a sugar cookie, or running around in the windy field. Hours later, we were still thawing out.

On Sunday morning, we went to church and then were invited over to the Eilers' for dinner with our pastors and their families. What a great time...we love our church family and boy, can Randy grill! We laughed a lot and Michael wrestled the kids. Got home and waited out the sugar-high.

jane & scott

March 31, 2007 - we had a big time! My dear friend, Jane Koehler, got married to a wonderful man. Michael and I fought back tears the whole weekend. I believe his words were, "Waves of tears came over me from time to time...you know, it wafted over me like a fart." How touching.

We were reminded of how life goes by so fast, always changing...it seems like it was just yesterday that Jane and I met, moved in with two other amazing girls, dared each other to eat moldy bread (Jane won), fled from bats in the house, and ate cereal from coffee mugs while watching "Trading Spaces" together. She is one loyal friend, and Scott matches her perfectly. We are so happy for you, Jane-o, and count ourselves fortunate to share in your wedding day.

Congratulations, McIntyres!

good friday

It IS a good day, indeed. This year, I am feeling the gravity of this, the most significant week in Christendom (and for the Jews as well, for Passover). 'Good Friday' comes from the Old English "Godes Friday" (God's Friday). Oh, that every day would be God's day!

Darby posted today's liturgy from the Book of Common Prayer on the whocares blog, and I'll repost it here:

"Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever, amen."

Amen! As we ponder the mystery of a God willing send his only Son to die so brutally for the world He loves, may His ressurection also be real our hearts.

An old hymn I love this time of year:

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy hand hath made
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing
He bled and died to take away my sin

When Christ shall come, with shouts of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, "My God, how great You are!"

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou art! How great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee
How great Thou art! How great Thou art!

(lyrics by Carl Bobert, 1886)

cowering under oaks

Gotta love homeownership: this is what happens when you have a bird trapped in your basement for 4 days. See all the white spots? That's not paint! We had so much bird poop in the basement when Michael found the carcass on Monday - smack in the middle of the floor, legs straight in the air. It beat itself to death trying to get out. Ugh! I hate WILD animals in the house. Just ask Michael about the stray-kitten fiasco last summer. Not fun.

Also: we live in a really woodsy neighborhood, being surrounded by dry ravines on both sides; and with all this cold wind blowing around this week, one of our neighbors had a massive oak tree fall on his deck, completely destroying it. The tree was dead (and so thick that two people couldn't get their arms around it), apparently, and one day of good wind took it out - right onto his grill, glass patio table, and (homemade) deck. It's a good thing he and his son were in the basement at the time, as it narrowly missed the house. I spent that night praying that all of the trees in our yard would hold!

Also also: I called the city on my next-door neighbors, who seemed to have abandoned their property, leaving 100 bags of trash in their driveway, trash everywhere, window frames hanging off of the house, at least ten bikes strewn about, trash blowing into our yard...and I decided I'd had enough of the eyesore (and hadn't seen hide-nor-hair of the neighbors to talk to them), and called Code Enforcement. On Monday, the city showed up and completely cleaned out the yard! I hate to be 'that' neighbor, but I figure it was for the good of the neighborhood. Oy. Homeowning is sometimes not what it's cracked up to be.

a triumphal entry

We were in Omaha this weekend, and for Palm Sunday we decided to attend a service at our old church. The sermon was on Jesus' 'triumphal entry' into Jerusalem. I have read and reread and rereread that Gospel passage, so much that I hardly need to read it--but I'd forgotten something that the pastor pointed out: when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on that donkey, everyone was waving palms and shouting "Hosanna!" (translation: "Save!")...but Jesus was weeping. Weeping. Not waving, throwing candy and admiring the adoring crowd. The Gospel says (Luke 19) that Jesus saw Jerusalem and wept over the city. "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace--but now it is hidden from your eyes." The crowds wanted someone to deliver them from the Romans, but Jesus wasn't that man. A week later, most of the people in those crowds were calling for His death, screaming, "Crucify him!" That just breaks my heart--the fickleness of the people, and how they were so fixated on being liberated from the Romans that they neglected their own souls. They were blind to what Jesus was trying to show them.

Another thing that I heard that was interesting was that Palm Sunday falls during Passover, and that particular day was called "Lamb Selection Day". Interesting parallel. Jesus was selecting Himself to die as atonement for the sins of all people....the sacrifical Passover Lamb. It was on that day, the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem, that the Jewish leaders decided to kill him. They, too, selected their lamb.

Last week, a man who was a Jehovah's Witness came to my door to invite me to their celebration of Jesus' death. The flyer said "find out why He was the most important man who ever lived." It's so sad to me--the key to the whole thing is that Jesus rose from the dead! Instead, this man celebrates his death. How anticlimactic. He beat death so that we can. That's the whole hopeful point! Michael pointed out to me that C.S. Lewis said that, "A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would be either a lunatic — on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to."

I love the dichotomy of Jesus' humility and omnipotence. His humility draws me closer to His face....His power keeps me in awe. A "victor in the midst of strife." Triumphal, indeed!

Sunday morning we sang the hymn below, and it hit me - I am like those crowds, sometimes. This is my prayer this Holy Week:

"Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it!
Prone to leave the God I love!
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above."