All Things Beautiful

No, this isn't my photo...I was too far away to get such a great shot .Source

You know, someday they'll be old and we'll all be old and we'll still be going to the concerts, just us hard-cores. And we'll be like all those "tom toms" who still go nuts for Tom Jones.

She completely agreed, and we both laughed.

Why will we still be coming back?

For the same reason we've been coming back for the last 15 years.

Our history of loving Hanson is largely our history of loving music itself.

At the age of 11 I fell in love, not so much the way some girls did, with their lipstick covered posters of their teen idol faces.
I fell in love with the idea that there were these three young people who loved what they did so much that devoted their whole life to it and doing it well. Most people think Hanson dropped off the earth like so many other one-hit-wonders and yes, they may have fallen off the mainstream radar sometime after Mmmbop left the airwaves, (to their great benefit). But they continued on their own, crafting music that has grown and matured along with themselves and their following of die-hards that continue to show up for every show screaming, jumping, dancing, clapping and singing along every lyric to every song.

To paraphrase Taylor Hanson from an interview about a year ago, "if we weren't able to be creating and performing music to the crowds of fans that we are today, we would still be doing this anyway, only we'd be on the side of the road with a guitar case open in front of us. You have to be crazy to be in this industry, you literally have to love it enough to be crazy enough to do it."

That passion is what comes to life in Hanson's music and that energy is what comes to life when they perform. I've been lucky enough now to go to three shows with my (awesome and also enthusiastic) husband in the last 4 years and honestly, I have yet to be disappointed. (okay, fine at the show in Vancouver, the sound quality was terrible and we were all a little ticked that they took the stage so late...but we're a pretty forgiving lot, us "fansons").

Oh I know this is all gushy and slightly ridiculous...I rewrote this post several times and got choked up a couple times in the process...yes, also ridiculous I know, but I'm willing to take the fallout from revealing this. I know most of those who read this will think I'm off my rocker and never give a second thought to listening to, let alone deeply appreciating Hanson's music the way I do. Believe me, you don't have to...that's not why I wrote this.
I wrote this because all these years I have been poked fun at for this crazy devotion and always been a little abashed at putting into words exactly what it is that makes me such a nut for these guys. Anyway, I know I haven't done it all justice...but at least I tried.
On Friday night, singing along with every line of every song, I was hit by some pretty strong nostalgia. Sure Hanson wanders off the radar of my life for months at a time (after all, I do have a real life too) but I always circle back to their music and it definitely makes up the soundtrack of more than half of my life so far. There's something universal about music in that we all connect to it in this simple profound way and there are times when you hear a song and something about the notes or the words affect you and you think "Yes, I get that...I've felt that way too."

15 years of that feeling is why we'll keep coming back. 15 years of music being created because it mattered, that's why it matters still....that's why it will still matter then.

and that's why we'll keep coming back.

Smiles like this are a direct result of Hanson music...just so you know. source

I'm one of those people who like to rush from place to place in my life; from stage to stage. When I was growing up, I was often called "an old soul" and it was true. I always longed to be more grown up than I was. When I was in highschool I couldn't wait to be in University. When I was in University I couldn't wait to be in a relationship and then married. As soon as I was married and had finished putting away our wedding gifts we started talking babies...as soon as the first baby came we decided we'd better build a bigger house. House was built...hardly finished... sold, second baby...moved to new house....the plans just never stop.

Now it looks like we may have a whole new set of plans that will take us in a new direction entirely in life. My husband really isn't ready for me to spilling beans on this blog here, but let's just say it's a whole new adventure I hadn't anticipated....and no, it's not a baby #3.

It's daunting to say the least, another 5 years before we can really be settled (settled? What's that?) and another move or two ...or....oh man, can I even do this?

It's really tempting to wish it was all over and I could settle into a new life five years from now, without having to go through all the transition that the next 5 might have to offer. Perhaps if I'm lucky I could squeeze my eyes shut really tight and pop them open to find that all the hard work and sacrifice that needs to go into the next few years will be over and I will have finally "arrived" at the destination toward which I have been hurtling myself since childhood; a made up scenario of what my life should really look like.

Except God doesn't like my shoulds very much, cause He's already rearranged a couple of them, closed some doors, opened others I didn't know I could walk through and given me gifts I never asked for.
Mostly I know He really doesn't like my plan of shutting down for the ride and wake me when it's over.

Countless times in His word God calls us to have hearts that are filled with contentment, and yes, it's often in the context of our physical needs and not longing for monetary wealth, but on a deeper level contentment also means being present and happy with our circumstances, not being impatient with our lives. We can't really rush the journey anyways, the only thing we succeed in is making ourselves anxious and miserable. We miss out on the little blessings and extraordinary gifts that are being lavished on us...right now.

What I'm really trying to say is that it has hit me how much I live my life for the next big thing rather than slowing down to just live life as it is right now.  Both times I was pregnant with my children I spent so much of my heart on longing for their arrival and preparing for it, that I didn't spend as much on cherishing each little piece of just being pregnant.

These next few years will be a lot like being pregnant in the sense that it will be all about preparing and working for something that will come to fruition later. The real trick of living in contentment will be enjoy what is going on right now without needing it to be something else. 

In the next five years my daughter will go from being 5 to being almost 11 years old. Those are some of her most important childhood years, I can't afford to blink let alone screw my eyes shut and will it over. My son will start school, start adventures of his own, both of my kids will need me to give them the consistency and home base that only a present and content mother can. My husband will need that too.

More and more I am realizing that right now is what matters most. My life may never  get to look like my childhood daydreams....being settled may be something quite different than my expectations. It may just mean being settled and rooted no matter where life takes us. It may mean waking up each morning happy and content to just be right where we are....right now.

 

I just discovered how to create and publish on a fun website called polyvore. You can basically just browse through all the (mostly) cute and beautiful clothes and accessories they have there and pull together your own fantasy outfits....absolutely fun. You can also go there and like other's creations and follow those style makers who are making you want to go shopping. It's all for fun.

Look just below this post for my creation of the day today!....yes, this is what I wish I was wearing right this minute. Instead I am still in my pajamas.

A total waste of time?...perhaps, but fun to play with someone else's clothes for free before heading up to my own closet to stand there feeling like I have nothing to wear...

Anyway, that was fun.

Maybe sometimes I'll drop a little outfit in here when I'm feeling inspired or have just wasted the last half an hour on what could surely be another addictive website....sigh.

For starters, a big thanks to Oma for the birthday gift!

This box of sticker tiaras has been sitting up in the cupboard since October.  Every once in a while my daughter remembers that it's there and asks if we can pull it down and create some for ourselves. I'll admit, it hasn't been high on my list of projects to do.

First there was the Christmas rush that ran from October to the End of December...then there was the Christmas burnout which has lasted for all of January so far( I haven't even touched the sewing machine since Pickle's birthday party).

But today when those big green eyes implored me to please, please make sticker tiaras today... I was out of excuses.

Still, I came up with one anyway.

"Honey, I'm about to start making supper...how about we do it after supper tonight?"

"As soon as we're done?"

"Sure. As soon as we're done".

An hour and a half later I put my fork down and she was at attention, standing next to shoulder.

"It's after supper now...you promised, let's make Tiaras!!!!!"

I finished chewing, swallowed, and went to get the box. To her credit she helped clear the table.

And then we actually had a ton of fun. The stickers were all numbered and coincided with numbers that were printed in patterns all over the little foam tiaras so I figured it was actually a pretty educational activity for number recognition and patterns and sequences, not to mention fine motor control.(those stickers were tiny!)

But more importantly every thing was bright and sparkly and glittery and colored like rainbows...it was wonderful.

While we were plodding away at this time consuming feat (another plus in my book, because it kept my girl absorbed for almost an entire hour) we got to chat and sing and laugh together and that was really the best part of the whole exercise.

At one point my little girl began singing aloud along with me, old camp songs and ditties she's learning at school. She began improvising her own creations all songs about chocolate chips, putting on rain jackets and riding horses through golden skies....I didn't want it to end to be honest, and apparently neither did she.

" I just love chatting with you mom." she said. "Me too honey, me too."

"Isn't this just the best thing ever? I don't ever want to be done."


                                                                             Yes, it sure is.

A week can bring a lot of things to pass. A week ago life looked quite a bit different than it does this morning. A week ago we were reeling from tragic news, headed off for hospital tests and hunkered down in -47 degree weather.

This morning I'm finally back at my computer, sitting in the sunshine of what promises to be a mild and beautiful day and although there's still broken hearts this morning there's also some closure and the memory of such a beautiful service and 800+ people who came to comfort and celebrate Auntie's life.

I know I feel blessed this morning. Coming off of such a wake of fear and uncertainty with my health, I am beginning to realize how richly blessed I am to have the life I have and how lucky I am to have my health for the most part.
Something about not being able to really function and take care of one's family is very demoralizing and frightening and now that I am having some days that are free of headache pain and dizziness I am feeling like anything is possible and everything is just stretched out before me waiting to be done. What a blessing that is, and one I never paid any attention to when I was taking my health for granted. Like everyone else I procrastinated and put off the chores I didn't want to do. I grumbled and complained about all the monotony and the sacrificial tasks done for my family that no one sees or appreciates.

Take away a mother's ability to do those things and suddenly they are all she wants to do.  Last week I had to make some sort of snack for my daughter's kindergarten class and she wanted to use the horse-shaped cookie cutters I had put in her stocking for Christmas. A few weeks ago if you had asked me how jazzed I was to make 23 horse shaped sugar cookies on a Sunday night, I might not have had a very enthused answer. But I was determined to give this to my daughter, to let her see that life was still normal and she still had a mom who could do normal mom things because the previous week there'd really been just a whole lot of mom being unable to do pretty much anything.

As we mixed and stirred and sifted those cookies however I ended up being hit with such a dizzy spell that I had to lay down on the kitchen floor and send my little girl to go and run for her daddy so he could help finish the job. While she skipped off to do my bidding I lay on the floor and cried frustrated tears, so upset and afraid of what it meant to be a mom laying on the floor rather than rolling the rolling pin.

I am so blessed and happy to say that tentatively every day I seem to be climbing away from feeling that badly. Will it come back? I don't know? But for today I am able to wash my dishes and start my laundry and make supper for my husband.

A lot can change in a week. I have learned this before but my head is thick sometimes and it takes hard lessons to reteach this simple truth. Learning to let go and be unafraid, to take each day as it comes and to be thankful regardless of the unknowns...can I live like this? Overwhelmed simply by the fact that I am not in control but am being carried? Humbled and filled with gratitude to be able to work and serve?

Any given day of the week, I hope to say yes. Come what may.

Some days are just bad days.

Yesterday was a bad day.

Worse for some other people who are close enough to me for my heart to be hurting for them so badly in the wake of tragedy hitting them unexpectedly.

Yesterday as I fumbled around my house fighting the worst dizzy spells I've had yet I got a phone call from the School Bus driver who was sitting at my daughter's bus stop wondering where the heck I was and when I was coming to pick up my daughter.

"Seriously?" I looked at the clock, I have been having a hard time keeping track of certain things but we were trying to get out the door. I thought I had more time.
"Am I late?"

"umm...yes, you sure are." came the snippy reply.

I wanted to burst into tears and tell her that I was having a hard time even walking around my house and that my son was running and laughing from me while I tried to wrestle him into a snowsuit so I could walk to the bus stop to get my little girl. I wanted to tell her that the whole world was falling apart for members of my husband's family and that I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so low...mostly because I couldn't remember things very well these days. I wanted to snap back and tell her not to be pissy with me. I wanted to tell her she should rearrange the bus schedule so she could drop my daughter off right at home instead of 2 blocks away. But instead I stuffed my tears inside and mumbled that I was on my way and I proceeded to shuffle and stumble down the street with my baby boy in tow crying in the minus 30 wind chill.

I blubbered apologies to the bus driver and took Ava by the hand who immediately burst into tears. Everything she said was technically true and hopelessly skewed:

" I didn't get to be the big helper today at school because you didn't come and it was the worst day ever! It was such a bad day and then you forgot me at the bus stop!"

It was true, I had swapped helper days with another parent because I could hardly function and even more importantly my mother in law had to fly to New Mexico that morning and she needed to do that for the family emergency that was happening and that meant I needed to stay home with my son.

None of that mattered to my daughter's world. The grownups had let her down and that was NOT what grown ups were supposed to do.

Then she realized I hadn't brought the vehicle at about the same second that she realized it was really cold outside and more than a block to your house.

"C'mon" I urged her taking her by the arm of her coat. " Baby's cold, mama's cold, you're cold, let's just get home"

She wrenched away from me.

"NO! I'm MAD at you!",her hot tears freezing instantly on her cheeks.

I sighed heavily and got down on her eye level, steadying myself on the ground with my mittened hand, feeling faint.

"Look, it doesn't help to blame people. I'm sorry that this was such a hard day for you, I'm sorry that you had a bad day, but you can't blame me. It isn't my fault, now please let's get inside the house."

She started shuffling along with me as the little boy started fussing and crying cause his poor little face was turning red in the cold.

She let go of my hand and I continued to hurry along. She sobbed that I was leaving her on the street, that I didn't care about her.

Finally at the end of the drive way I turned around and yelled, "GET IN THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT! YOU ARE BEING A BRAT!"

So I guess my tantrum wasn't any better than hers. I hauled her into the house and all three of us stood and sobbed and caught our breath and angrily threw our toques and mittens on the floor.

Later we talked and apologized and hugged and cuddled and had a bubble bath and all the things that make a bad day a little better. We went to bed early and held each other while we cried over sad news on the telephone. We said prayers in choked voices and felt humbled by the weight of how precious each and every day we have really is.

Whether we get to be the big helper or not, or get left on the school bus, whether we feel healthy or not, whether it's a freezing blizzard or a warm breeze, whether we are scared or frustrated or tired or overwhelmed, whether we are separated from loved ones or forced to say good bye. Whether we know the future or are facing the unknown, whether it was a good day or a bad day....

It was a day and we made it through it and we will make it through the next one too, That is my prayer for myself and for those I love who are hurting, that you will feel the presence of God and love that encircles and encompasses you, that you will be filled with a peace that surpasses all understanding and find the strength to make it through the worst days and the ones that follow.

Today is the first day that my life has been a little more normal this past week. Monday I started sliding and by Tuesday it was all kinds of weird here as I ended up first at the Doctor and then at the University Hospital visiting an urgent neurologist. Which sounds really scary and was pretty scary but we're all still in one peace (intended) and at least the doctor was able to tell me that I wasn't about to leave this world, even though for the past few days it felt like I might...at the very least fall off the edge of it I've been so darn dizzy that just getting around my house has been as much coping as I can do.

Even my ability to articulate sentences has been coming and going and I'll have periods of time (that are getting blessedly shorter and further apart) where I go completely stupid. Yes, it's frightening. I've also been remembering dreams from the past in such vivid detail that I can't remember whether they happened for real or not...pretty trippy, and apparently what can happen with severe migraine episodes like the one I had last week. The Neurologist thinks my brain has been sitting at a half a migraine for about a week now, thus all the weird symptoms and they've scheduled an MRI for me as soon as humanly possible (which is still a couple of weeks away) to determine why my brain has done what it has done. She surmised that it might take another migraine attack to reset my brain but thankfully it seems that instead it has decided to heal itself and slowly resolve it's issues....like I said a little freaky, but still a reassurance to know that I'm holding my own brain wise and I'm in no immediate danger.

That being said it's caused us to have some serious late night conversations about my prognosis and to take into consideration the doctors assertion that I need to perhaps make some very real lifestyle changes and decisions to better manage my condition. ( I don't have any bad habits per se, but with migraine disease...going outside in the wrong weather conditions can trigger one of these bizarre attacks).

The other big changes I need to make are in the area of fats, salt and caffeine. As in I need a lot more of each one. ....um, I beg your pardon? My tripping brain had a hard time figuring out what you said?

Yes, the anti seizure medication I've been prescribed causes weight loss...and I don't have much to lose, so I need to increase my calories and fat intake and my super low blood pressure needs me to consume more sodium. (as well as 3 litres of water a day! Oh mercy!). On top of all of that, the Neurologist wants me to start taking in caffeine everyday to see how it affects my migraines and my brain's ability to cope with the stupifying effects of the anti seizure med.

All of this leads me back to more doctor's appointments, a second consultation with another migraine specialitst and...alot of salty buttered popcorn. The other night I scarfed down a whole bowl by myself along with a coke and two butter tarts....nice huh?

And Kevin joined me...because well, who likes to binge alone?

Anyway, the finicky science of finding the needle in my haystack continues. I wasn't surprised to hear the specialist say what I've heard before several times now.
" Migraine disease is a diagnosis  of exclusions. We weed out as many possible factors as we can and prescribe treatment basically through trial and error. Unfortunately in your case, we refer to your condition as complicated migraine disease and that means that finding those exclusions are ...complicated. In the meantime you feel like crap as we struggle towards finding a handful of possible solutions that can make you feel better until your brain decides to change all over again and we keep playing catch up."

Yep....that sounds about right.

But at least for today I have the energy to get dressed and tidy up my house...(tidy is a nice neat compact word...overhaul is maybe more the word my house's condition needs)...and I haven't had to grip the counter so far....these are good things, and now if you'll excuse me I have to go eat some bacon...and a large cappuccino.....

I started writing this post a few days ago and kept quitting half way through. I lacked the perspective to be able to put everything I wanted to say into words. I wouldn't say I have that perspective now either, but at some point in all it's imperfection, what rolling around inside me just has to find a way out.

It's a terrible feeling to be 26 and face something chronic, unfixable and barely manageable. I've fought this for the last few years, telling myself I would be one of the lucky few people who just needed some simple solution that had been overlooked, that some miracle cure was going to come along and fix the migraine disease that instead of getting better, seems to bullying it's way into more and more areas of my life and my healthy well days seem to tipping in the balance on the wrong side.

It's a hard thing to admit that one's body is not trustworthy, that it is letting me down when I need it most, that it is not reliable and not easily fixable either. A condition like mine takes a lot of patience and investigation; I suffer from complicated migraine disease with Aura and Hemiplegic Migraines. Which basically means a long with the debilitating symptoms I have been suffering the last few years (extreme pain, loss of vision, nausea, vomiting, an inability to function and stroke-symptoms) last week I had my first fake seizure.

I had just come home from a promising doctor's appointment that morning; I had a referral to a specialist, some new medication to try and some promising leads to help me get a bit of my life back  from these painful and frightening attacks. I've been suffering migraines since I was a little girl with only a few breaks here and there in my life, some lasting a couple of years, in the last 5 years, only a few months here and there that were migraine free. But that was the first time I'd suffered a hemiplegic migraine and it really shook me up.

I was frustrated and deflated, overwhelmed at how I could feel so encouraged one moment and only a few short hours later be struggling  to form the words to talk to my daughter while laying on the couch unable to feel the right side of my body or move it. Once the feeling came back to my face I realized I'd been crying, so upset at why God could seem to be answering my prayers and then still hand me this heavy load of struggle. The anxiety of attacks like this has complicated my condition further, creating a vicious cycle of panic attacks that trigger migraines and migraines that trigger panic attacks. Being stuck between a rock and a hard place doesn't begin to describe how I've been feeling. I feel strung out and worn out and very low on my faith and optimism.

On one hand I wonder is their some solution that's still eluding me. Am I not exercising enough? (thanks to my generous In-Law family giving me a treadmill that belonged to my husbands grandmother, I've been able to run 5 times a week again which does help) Is there something wrong with what I'm eating? (Another vicious cycle to not feeling well, is not having the energy to properly prepare foods for myself).
Or is it more intimate than that? Is it my faith that's lacking or sin that needs weeding out? I don't really think so, but believe in the dead of night when nothing about this makes sense I have cried out to God to reveal to me, what I can't seem to see clearly myself.

It's hard not to feel desperate and despondent, ignored and uncared for. I identify with the Psalmist crying in Chapter 6: 2-3 "Have mercy upon me, O Lord; for I am weak: O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed. My soul is also sore vexed, But thou O Lord, how long?" (KJV)

I keep praying that I will see some way that God will glorify himself in all of this, that I will find the elusive mystery to "counting it all as joy". I have decided t Psalm 73 :26 will be my life preserve for now, the tether that keeps me somehow grounded so that  when my head is filled with pain and confusion, when my limbs feel weak and shaky or I can't feel anything at all, I can still the rising panic and  have something to whisper back to the pressing darkness.


It sometimes seems like I only have half of the answer to my prayers, Sometimes it seems like I see less than half of what is really going on, and I know I see much less than a fraction of where this will all lead or how God will bring help to me. But in the deepest part of me I will cling to my faith that indeed He will and He will prove himself sufficient for me; a strength to not only my body but my heart and He will be a sufficient portion to me.

Even if it feels like only a small piece to me.

Can it still be peace?

I pray that it can.

What is this cake stuff, and where has it been all my life?

My lovely little niece Pickles turned one just before Christmas and we all had a party to celebrate on the weekend. It was one of the loveliest parties I'd been to, all low key and intimate and not too long for the little ones in attendance to get over tired or go into hysterics.

The gifts were all lovely too. Wooden dolls for a playhouse, a vintage sourced doll cradle and highchair from the birthday girl's mommy, a tutu from one auntie and a quilted quiet time book from this auntie.

It was probably the most difficult and time consuming project I have ever attempted but also one of the most enjoyable projects I've ever endeavored as well.

When we were little girls my sister and I had one Auntie in particular (who is a reader of mine too, I love you Auntie Shirley) who made us the most beautiful handmade dresses, pillows and yes, a quiet book for my older sister. For reasons, not divulged here, she doesn't have that quiet book today, so I decided months ago, that I would be the Auntie to fix that situation and make sure Pickles got a quiet book from an Auntie too.

Here are some of the pages I created.






Please take into account that I am very much a beginner sewer and I made more mistakes than even I have the humility to point out.

The book is based on the changing of the seasons and has the classic fine motor activities of weaving, zipping a zipper, tying a bow, lacing a shoe, doing up buttons etc.

Wouldn't you know it was such a hit with all the other guests that there have already been inquiries that perhaps I will try my hand at it again for them too? That's an exciting prospect, considering it will give me the chance to use all the knowledge I've learned the hard way and try out some new ideas.

if anyone wants to see the rest of the pages, let me know and I'll post them too!

I wasn't quite ready to put everything away when the Christmas Tree was heaved out and hewn up last week. I couldn't part with all the touches that adorned the house, reminding me how only days ago, all the world seemed to still with a wonder and mystery almost tangible in the air.  I guess I wasn't ready to let go of the "magic" of Christmas yet. I was suspended and didn't want to slough it all off, trudge back into the work-a-day attitude of the new year. I wanted to linger here, where my heart skipped a beat and my throat caught a little. Where my eyes felt misty and the stillness seeped into the fabric of my heart.

Sometimes it's easy to get let down when all the waiting comes suddenly to an end, when the calendar page turns.


So I kept the Nativity up a little longer to celebrate Epiphany this year. I stayed longer upon the story of the small family of three and the story of the wise men who traveled in search of something they couldn't understand, but knew was worth their risk and their adoration.


This new year of 2012 I feel already that I am clinging to the Scripture that claims that "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him". (James 1:5 NAS)

I'm looking for my own epiphany I guess, and I feel I'm on a journey following what often feels like a faint star in the distance. Opening my eyes, my ears, and my heart to be lead to the feet of majesty, to lay my own gifts before God and be directed where He wills.

I'm surrendering to His timing more, I'm submitting to the call of that which I don't completely understand and I'm placing one foot in front of the other with more faith as he grants it to me in grace.

I'm humbled by the story of epiphany, they may not have been kings, and they may not have been from the orient and we have no way of knowing that there were only three of them, but of course that's not what matters about their story. What matters is that they set out and headed for a mystery that was worth following and what they found was worth all the searching...is worth all the searching of today.

And that's a wonder and majesty that doesn't get forgotten just because it's time to pack all the tinsel away. It's an inspiration that I want to last all the year, a light in the darkness leading me always closer to King of the Universe made Emanuel...

I think trail mix in the bulk bins at the grocery store is somewhat horrid.
The stale taste, the dried little chunks of mystery fruit, the peanut salt that makes it's way onto everything

and the price is just a little horrid too.

So we made our own. I picked up a couple ingredients while out shopping but everything else came from what was in the pantry already and somehow those ingredients aren't as stale and nasty when you buy them individually; probably because they get bought more often and therefore replaced, where as the bins of trail mix are kind of like a fruit cake that sits and ages...(although some people actually like old fruitcake which is kind of crazy to me...no offense all you old fruitcake lovers...)

Anyway, I digress...

We came home and we chopped up all manner of apricots, prunes and raisins. We dumped in unsalted roasted peanuts and sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds and granola clusters. For kicks we threw in the last of the boxes of cereal that were hanging out in the depths of the pantry shelf and for color and the sheer joy of it, we threw in the mini m and ms that we meant to use to decorate a gingerbread house and never did.


The trail mix was a huge hit. I put it all in a big airtight bin and now my little snackers nibble away at bowls of it all day. They come to me begging for snacks every half an hour and in the past where I used to have to rummage and forage about lost for ideas of what to continuously feed them, now I simply point at the large airtight bin and minutes later we are all satisfied.


Yes, I would say this is the face of  trail mix satisfaction.

Do you have a favorite trail mix combination for your family too?

New Years Eve 2011

2011 was a rough year. Rough as in I spent a lot of it feeling pretty ill, confused, frustrated, overwhelmed and exhausted...

The year started off with getting bad news in an emergency department and every time it looked like things might be going up, some new crazy circumstance found it's way back to disappointing me all over again.

Why, when it rains, does it pour?

...and to use a completely opposite analogy, why, when you're so thirsty for something to refresh you, does it seem like God has shut the heavens up and not a drop falls when you seem to need it most.

I felt like a withered tree for alot of 2011, not every day, but consistently enough for me to feel like summed up in one word, the year of A.D. 2011 kind of..um...sucked.

I felt irritable and overwhelmed and God and I weren't on the best speaking terms we have been in the past. Now, don't get me wrong, God himself never stopped speaking to me... I just stopped listening to Him. I stopped talking to Him for long periods of time as well, other than to be a total grouch and complain and shake my fists and cry some bitter tears here and there.

But this is where the whole withered tree thing comes back to me.

You see, I spent most of the last twelve months trying everything I knew to try and get some nourishment back into my roots, without ever really getting close to the source. I never really abandoned God but I ignored Him plenty and instead blamed him for the rotten circumstances of my year.

But stubborn as I am, He has a way of getting my attention...usually when I get to the point where I'm actually desperate enough to try anything, even listen to Him. If only it didn't take me that long...but I am grateful always, that He takes me back, sits me down on His knee and then tells it like it is.

On the first day of the new year I was in a good place to be I guess, sitting in the pew at church and some of the words the pastor said kind of jolted me and I felt God nudge to reconsider a verse I'd heard and read so many times I almost had it memorized by heart.


"But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
And he be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever doeth shall prosper. " (Psalm 1:2-3 KJV)

I'd heard enough good teaching on this nugget of gold to know that the verse wasn't talking about getting all kinds of sweet  blessings and cushy living just for being a Christian. It's about so much more than that. This verse is about how we will be constantly sustained if we stay close to the source of God and His word. When he is what sustains us, then trials come and go and blessings come and go, and regardless of the weather, we stay leafy green, our roots drinking up the sweet water, strong and able to withstand anything.

I had known this and I had forgotten it. Frankly, I hadn't wanted to remember it, but there it was staring me in the face; the only resolution I could make for 2012 that would make any kind of difference at all.

I wanted this new year to start off differently than the last one had... but not because I had figured out some way to make everything turn up roses in my favor for the next 365 days. Quite the opposite. I wanted this year to be different because I wanted to be different. And this all may seem elementary to those who've figured out the knack of sticking close by the still waters and walking right next to the shepherds staff 24/7, but like I said, stubborn can sometimes be my middle name. More often than not, I have a lot more in common with the half-wit sheep who wanders off from the safety of the Shepherd's guiding and had to have a search party sent out, than with the rest of the flock who's figured out how to abide in his familiar voice. I get spooked and take off instead of being still and resting inside the safety of His promises.

Praise the Lord He's always willing to lead me back and teach me the same basic lessons over and over and over.

Who can say what the new year will hold for any of us, foolishly I started out with nail biting anxiety that perhaps if I tried hard enough or found a way to orchestrate it so, I could take things into my own hands and finagle them into something safe, manageable and predictable for myself. Too bad that's not what God has promised for any one of us, instead His promise is to sustain us with living water, to watch over us like a shepherd, and to never leave us or forsake us...even a spooked sheep and withered tree like me.