A Warm and Happy Thanksgiving to you!

Thoughts on Prayer :O)

I've been pondering some thoughts on prayer lately, since it's an area I've often perceived mysel as struggling in. On closer inspection, by the definition of prayer being open communication between God and myself, I realize it's something I do constantly without much intention. Kind of like texting your best friend when you see something funny or profound or when you simply want to meet for lunch.

Nothing flowery required, because if you talk to someone often enough (especially if that Someone is Omniscient), you tend to know one anothers' heart and intent. I've been known to use language that some would find questionable in my prayers, and have felt love envelop me instantly. I truly think it's because God has the beautiful ability to always, always hear the heart and intention behind our words. "Dear Lord...oh HELL!" is instantly translated as, "Wow, I'm hurting and I really need help." He is indeed near to those who are hurting, and doesn't make us jump through the hoops of flowery speech in order to hear us. I appreciate that about Him.

I think this is one of those areas where the kingdom of heaven is all upside down and backwards from our usual way of looking at things. As we're approaching the throne of grace with confidence, our confidence isn't in the quality or entertainment value of our words, but in the one who invited us to approach in the first place, right? I don't believe that any child of God should ever be drawn by confidence in their own eloquence, or repelled by how they believe others perceive them...because those things aren't the point. What man (the prayer or the listener) thinks about the words we present makes no difference.

One funny, godly man once told me, "I won't let man puff me up, or puff me down. I've laid all my puff-ability at the cross of Jesus". How cool is that? That's what we're called to. Both insecurity in self and pride in self have their roots in the same rock: Self. They aren't the opposite of each other; they're one in the same. I believe true confidence as a believer lies in the knowledge that we're perfectly loved and that grace wraps around both our strengths and faults.

When we're that kind of confident, we have no need to deceive ourselves into thinking that we're better than we are in order to protect Self, and no need to embrace false humility while thinking that our Self is really spiffy as-is. Our confidence is in Christ, and it becomes unshakable. We're cool with our frailty being put on display, because it becomes a spectacle of his power to turn even earthen vessels into powerful instruments for His glory.

As far as prayer goes, I think Jesus said it really clearly in Matt 6 when his disciples asked how they should pray...he actually told us to go where no one else could hear us and pray in secret to our Father in heaven! I assume He asked that because He knew how easy it is for us to be swayed by hubris, one way or another. I also believe that there are times when we can pray prayers of edification for one another, and that when we do so, Self isn't even a factor, because we'll become a conduit for the Holy Spirit to speak through us to the person in need.

Our perception of ourself is replaced by His opinion of us. We can operately and live freely, and that's quite an amazing feeling, I think.

Blogging has totally gotten away from me again, and I keep promising myself that to make it up to me, I'll let my first blog back be something fantastic. But that, dear readers, is the perfect way to never blog again.

So here's my not so earth-shaking return to blogdom.

I've gotten back into cloth diapering lately, and have found it a delightful and noble addiction. This time around, I'm really loving making my own recycled, lanolized wool covers, comme ça. (These things are virtually water-proof, which is just astonishing. They're also quite soft.)

For the obligatory munchkin report <3:

-Essie's reading up a storm these days, loves helping in the kitchen and with her sisters, loves addition, and really loathes having her spelling corrected. She plans to be a tree for halloween. She's also enjoying keeping a "journal" with pictures, and a nature book. Writing letters is one of her favorite things to do, along with planning out all our social lives for us.

-Naomi is almost totally potty trained (and there was GREAT rejoicing in the VO abode), enjoys reading thousands of books with mommy/daddy/friends/family, makes up her own little songs throughout the day, and would like everyone to know that she can now strap herself into her own carseat. She continues to be an animal lover, and is excited to be a lion "wif her best friend 'Stasia" on Halloween (a big deal around here).

-Eva is a very sturdy sitter now, and is trying to crawl. Seriously, somebody stop this baby from growing so fast! She says "mama" and "baby", and signs baby and hungry. She also calls her big sister "Eh!" She's a serious cuddle monster, and loves giving hugs and feisty kisses (which soetimes employ the use of two little teeth). She likes sitting beside mama or shopping in her sling or "typing" on an old keyboard. :P Bananas and guacamole or a big hit with her.


My current projects are teaching Essie to read, trying to keep up with Eva's voracious appetite, getting Naomi to eat at all, papering my hallway with old french book pages, a little sewing, a little writing, potty training, losing a final 20lbs (I'm 40lbs down now...impressive, no? Show me some, if you feel inspired to do so, lol. I'm trying not to grow weary), and possibly looking into what it might take to become a life coach. I'm also writing little ditties in my head throughout the day for a gentle children's album about emotions/nature/family for my little friends who don't find my voice too grating. :OP

I think that's all for now. I'll write again later, as I feel inspired. Peace and love!

Two-fer Toofers.

Teeth around here tend to travel in packs of two or four when they arrive, and Miss Eva is now no exception. Last weekend, she sprouted her first pearly clearish-white! :D

And now, apparently, the other is struggling to make it's home beside it's twin. Poor love is gnawing and waking and fussing, even as she giggles and play. Since a teething 6 month old is a new thing around here (her sisters didn't get their chompers until 10 months), we've been pulling out all our most clever tricks to help make her less miserable.

What's worked with some temporary:

• Hyland's teething tablets (this combined with rescue remedy is actually quite effective)
  
• Chamomile tea soaked washcloths, chilled in the fridge
• diluted clove oil or vanilla extract on the gum

What may help, or at very least makes her look stylish:

• baltic amber teething necklace from a friend
  

What works very well:

• lots of breastfeeding
• lots of being worn in a pouch or mei tai close to mommy
• frozen banana slices
  
• chewing on a vibrating toothbrush ;OP
• gnawing cold carrots
• tylenol at night
  
• Big sweet sister's sympathy and joking to distract her

Poor wee lovey boo. I think she'll think it's worth it someday when she gets to eat corn on the cob and Pink Lady apples. Until then, she looks rather suspicious, as if life is playing a mean, dirty trick on her. ;OP I have to confess I've had that fleeting feeling more than once at 3am lately. But that first four-toothed grin? Totally worth it.

"In this time of extraordinary pressure, educational and social, perhaps a mothers first duty to her children is to secure for them a quiet and growing time, a full six years of passive receptive life, the waking part of it for the most part spent out in the fresh air." -Charlotte Mason

Nature is in our veins, as much a part of us as we are a part of it.

My husband and I forged the vast majority of our friendship hiking outside in in the woods, during our late teens and early twenties. I have beautiful sensory snapshots of moments from that time period etched in my psyche: Nate trying to climb some rock while dragonflies buzzed around my face in the summer, us holding hands and quietly talking as we climbed some small mountain in the cool whirl of wind and color that is autumn in the Appalachian foothills, and laughing at each other trying to run through snow outside of Cades Cove. Nature has been a precious part of our marriage and friendship since it's very beginning.

This was nothing new to either of us. Nate spent his childhood roaming the hills and mountains in Africa, and I spent many a long hot afternoon poking around our backyard in semi-rural AL or roaming the bank of the river that flowed through my grandparents' land or through the woods on their cattle farm building tepees out of branches and great clods of dried grass. Even when my family lived on the outskirts of Atlanta during my later childhood years, a good deal of time was spent hiking in North Georgia, bike riding with my dad or picking seashells off the coast while on vacation with my parents.

Though Nate and I have always enjoyed being outdoors, I doubt we had ever witnessed the full magic of nature until we had our own children. The sunshine had the power to transform people. It's remarkable how a wound up, under-stimulated and generally cantankerous child can be morphed into a quiet, busy thinker as soon as they step outside. A little one's whole countenance changes as they're given instructions to roam freely.

My impulse as a mother has been to hold my children close and keep them free from bugbites, scrapes, sweat and dirt, least they hurt at all, or worse, bleed! It's taken me a great deal of time to re-learn the wisdom that God tried to teach human kind when he placed them in a garden. My babies (children who smelled wild and wonderful and anything but tame when I first tucked their heads under my chin) belong where they can explore and observe and develop. They were made to be what modern society would consider a bit savage.

A friend of mine recently giggled as she observed our surroundings as we walked through our local hands-on kid factory: trees painted on the walls, leaves glued to the ceiling, and faux birds frozen in time on plastic branches. She voiced what we were both thinking. Why on earth PAY for the fake version of something we could get for free?? My guess is because we, as mothers, often like to take the real world and sanitize it and contain it and make it predictable and perfectly safe.

Most of us as parents like plastic boxes full of waterless germ wipes within arm's reach, and establishments that would turn deep shades of crimson if we happened to spot a bug within their walls. We smile at fake grass and easily cleaned plastic, if it keeps our little people corralled. However, in doing so, we end up with motionless plastic birds instead of the real, chirping, egg-laying, song-singing McCoy. Part of me chafes at this knowledge. I like things to be predictable. I like to have control.

They must be let alone, left to themselves a great deal, to take in what they can of the beauty of earth and heavens. -Charlotte Mason

I've become increasingly aware that my intense need to tame my children has produced the very opposite of what I've tried hard as a mother to instill: confidence, innovation, nurture and a sense of belonging. Nature has all these qualities to offer, but in my effort to domesticate my kids into the human equivalent of house pets, I've deprived them of something essential to their development. I believe that in this aspect, civilization has done humanity a major disservice.

At some point, I have to believe that God intends for me to turn my sturdy-legged, capable children out into the heart of his creativity, so they can marvel and be inspired by the world around them. A wide wilderness asks me to turn them out to be unfettered in it's beautiful jumble of order. If I seek to educate and inspire, what better medium than one they can plunge their hearts and toes and fingers into, and find their own place in? Their minds crave contextual exploration to gain understanding. Why not give it to them? Why not free them to discover their capability?

Let Nature be your teacher. -William Wordsworth

I'm daring something that sounds scary, even scoff-able to popular culture, while freely admitting to being driven out of desperation. I've committed to try to spend at *least* four hours a day outside with my young children. I will not cringe at torn clothing or black dirt beneath girlish fingernails. I will not attempt to try to restrain them, soften them, mute them or direct them more than necessary for at least four hours a day. This is a big endeavor for this mama. We've been at it for about a week, and noticing immediate behavior differences in both the girls and myself, if to the detriment of the state of my laundry pile. :P

I've been absolutely dumbfounded to observe the change that being free range and outdoors has made in my girls. My strong willed firstborn has the ability to be in charge of her exploration, as well as opportunity to learn a lesson in humility and smallness that only a giant, unflinching world can offer. My second born, my wild animal lover, feels capable and free to climb, nurture and push her limits at her own quiet pace. It's like a magic pill that brings out the loveliest in both of them.

Perhaps children, are, in fact, at their loveliest when they're not constantly governed by the arbitrary, silly rules that seem necessary when we spend the majority of our time indoors. I wonder if children have such a hard time respecting things because we simply have more "things" than we were ever intended to have? We spend so much time inside imposing non-moral rules related to not running, not climbing, not touching, not yelling. Perhaps the really valuable lessons we truly need to impart are simply lost in the chorus of "slow down/put it down/leave it alone/get down!!"

Perhaps God was very wise parent to place us in a garden.

“new studies suggest that exposure to nature may reduce the symptoms of ADHD,
and that it can improve all children’s cognitive abilities and resistance to negative
stress and depression.” P. 34, Richard Louv, Last Child in the Woods

I'm arming myself with a giant blanket, sandwich bags, collecting baskets and floppy hats and marching out of doors. It's funny how extraordinary and unusual it feels to spend large chunks of the day in the sun rather than indoors. Sometimes, honestly, I'd rather be inside, because I've become rather accustomed to my gadgetry and conveniences. But I raise my voice far less often, my children sleep hard, they're much calmer, and I find myself teaching them far more when we're out (because children LOVE learning in context of their surroundings, but that's another post..). It's well worth it, for them, and for myself. I'll be reporting back in a few months to let you know how the experiment is going.


Vive la sunshine!

Scarfie Goodness

I love me a little summer.