Building a Gratitude habit

Gratitude is on my mind not only because yesterday was Thanksgiving because I hear somehow God asking the habit to grow in my heart. Not because I am ungrateful person but because right now He wants me to practice remembering. He is asking me to see small and large the provisions and beauty of the day. And I am hoping that an increased habit of Gratitude will be like a boquet of wildflowers in the winter. It will increase my vision and boost my capacity to wait on the Lord.

“Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.”
― Maya Angelou, Celebrations: Rituals of Peace and Prayer

Indeed there is much to remember. Most notably this year, i could not believe my eyes to stare across the table at my mother. She is lovely and far more well than we ever could have predicted in this day. Its almost more than any of us can say outloud, thank you Lord. Thank you that we still have her in this way, so full hearted and strong. She has finished 11 rounds of chemotherapy. They helped and we cannot stop giving thanks. And now that treatment discontinues. And we must look to the future with hope and memory of the last 11 months not with spirits of anxiety and fear. How can gratitude expand our imagination for the future?

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom." Marcel Proust

And this year I thank God for Hannah and Stephen. Our little team is quite a force. So I feel while we may be pressed on many many sides, we hold tight to one another.
Be Thankful IN all circumstances is what I am learning. Not necessarily be thankful for all circumstances, but all the while life appears to be falling a part in sickness and violence and loss, still, can we continue to practice gratitude. For each other. For our home. For sunshine and coffee. I'd like to try.

a visit from the Prince

Its so dark outside but I want to be out of bed and near the lights of the Christmas tree. I grab a robe and tiptoe down the stairs plug it in and grab coffee. These mornings feel delicious. To sit in wonder. To remember. To hope. Today I read about the Prince of Peace. An image of a young Jesus came to mind and I laughed a little imagining him walking into the house. A prince in my house. I would probably have wished I'd vacuumed and gotten dressed a little fancier.  His knock was strong and as i opened the door the softness of his eyes took me. And he asked if he could just come sit by the tree with me. He wanted to be near me. I get the sense this Prince likes my presence too and is also glad to see my face.

A few minutes later i realize I am waking up in my chair. Im embarrassed that i drifted off with a guest, but he smiles. He is so glad I could rest. It was his presence that wooed me out of my circling and managing mind and my body recognized care near by. I slugged another sip of coffee, heard the trash truck outside and returned upright to my chair.  What a sweet visit. I can't wait to come back again tomorrow and wonder what gift I may be given.  Dear Prince of Peace, thank you for coming. Thank you for leaving the glory of the heavens to give a taste of peace on earth.  How desperate i was to know peace even for just a few moments of dreaming. 

Breath and Bones

It's your breath in our lungs.

So what will we do with it? Praise. Curse. Sing. Yell. Whisper. Be silent. Rage.

Whatever can i do with this breath? Now and in ten years. Our bones will sing Great are you Lord. Yes Lord, this is my prayer. Singing with my bones and Praise with my breath.

So what do i do that today instead I feel I am gasping for air. I cannot keep up. Again. And my circle feels so very small and still I cannot connect all the dots. Why? Im frustrated by my limitations. Im frustrated by he answer to again TAKE HEART and WAIT. Im lonely now. Im infertile now. My mom has cancer now. My husband wants meaningful work now. I want to be exceed expectations at work now. I want Hannah to feel known and seen now.

So what then? What with the breath that is waking me up in the night? What with the breath that is labored? Then also I want to still sing. But quite literally my throat is dry in striving, hoping and mistmatched pictures. Life is better and way harder than i expected. I can't seem to catch up with the disappointments right now to get ahead them. Still i believe my bones cry out of your greatness. But they are weary bones. How will I get to be where I/you have for me? Will those places every align? Will a heart with three homes find a resting place again?

BIG life is BOTH AND

Turns out I am not a hotel person sans my people.  Its about zero fun.  I still like planes. Sort of.  Anyway, it was a cold and windy Chicago morning and I am beginning to wonder if they have anything else here.  I am doing new things again today.  I slept awful with the feeling of cotton mouth from the fake sauce they must have put on the salmon last night.  Why on earth I thought it was a good idea to order salmon in the Midwest I have no idea.  So after bad sleep I thank God for the Starbucks packet in the hotel room and gulp down with a dry throat the hot black coffee. Ahhh, better. Now I can start the day.

I have realized my tolerance to introduce myself to new people and carry on about absolutely anything is a bit uncanny.  I love it. And it actually takes more out of me than it used to. Weird to admit. But I still mostly love it.  Meanwhile, this trip is my first solo trip with Dan, and I am aware that he is very introverted and also very easily amused.  Of which I am neither.  So beginning our day meeting a fabulous author and musician actually suits us both.  It is fun. I surprise myself at the way I am able to find and trust my voice and contribution amidst so much other strength at the table.  I am trying. And I still want to know, God is my voice worthy of attention?  Do I have something to say? Can you jump to Egg Harbor in this sweet Chicago suburb and give me words and belief that they matter among some greats?

By 9:57pm at night I have overcome a day that brought me much anxiety and anticipation.  And once again I realize that BIG life is full of contradictions.  I used to feel ridiculous saying it.  I am extroverted and scared to take up too much of anyone’s time with my words.  I am elated to travel with a brilliant author and speaker and also petrified that he direct one single real question in my direction (thankfully with the easily amused parts, we stayed on the topic of cornfields for a while).  I adore my husband and I am scared of all the conversations I am not willing to have.  I have decades of beautiful friendship and always fear replacement.

I think I thought that good life meant getting everything to one camp.  For example, thinking that to qualify my marriage as doing well meant easily worked out conflict and lots and lots of adoration. And those things are still great. BUT, to get to the real goods in marriage I think exposure happens in a way that calls us to the fullest life and glory in God and can only be done by our spouse.  And don’t nobody like exposure or being called to the table. BUT boy do I want my marriage to have courage to name and bless and if exposure is a part of a Holy revelation that my spouse has the privilege to bring to the floor, then oh goodness, I am again, terrified and privileged. When he brings truth to me, I want to kick and shut the door and I want to hear more because he has much to offer me with so much sight. 

Most of the beauty I saw today came from people with great harm in their stories.  They risked curiosity and hope to believe that God had more for their story.  So how can I release the need to have it fit into one perfect category and live into the tension of the contradiction. The BOTH AND. Because I know that’s where the glory is… in that risk. Oh boy, all in a days work.  

little big standoff

I am holding off my heart.  For too long.  Finding every other busy and important thing that needs and can be conquered before this coming to sit, this place of owning, naming and dreaming, nooooooo. even now i have a mini list of things i need to do like fill out the mail in voting ballot (even though its such a weird system i can't believe they actually count them all), get the laundry to the right spots, finish my book, fill the dishwasher,  worry about the unsolvables, and oh yeah get sleep. 

Your heart cannot grow bigger than it's dreams.  So if i am squashing the dreams as fast as they come to the table with my busy and important, is my heart shrinking? maybe.  it's the oddest thing, this time, this season, where I have a break from what felt like crisis of the last few years and in the non-crisis everyday life I miss God. I know less of His voice.  I make less space to hear. I operate. I thrive. I attend. I hope. I move and move and move and move and fill and fill and fill and fill.  Its weird to miss being lonely and desperate but at least then I was so keenly conscious and begging.  Begging for the right things. 

i know i want to live alive.  where as much as possible, i can separate out the days and that do and dont's, never-ending checklists and grocery runs do not capsize holding hands and dinner conversations and writing. the little is winning right now.  for so many years the little ruled my life until i could get it all in its "place" and now i tasted BIG and i feel so less tolerant to let my life be so distracted and swayed by little.  So, maybe this makes no sense to anyone but me.  But i want to try and reflect and remember and dream. i want my heart to grow for the things you want my heart to grow for Lord.  Is it too much to ask you speak up until i can ground?  Break my heart for what breaks yours.  For my BIG while I am here on this earth living out what you have written for me. 

to my daughter on her 6th birthday

(my delayed birthday note)

my girl my girl my girl, i am a bit oozy for you right now. i enjoy learning more about you so much these days I can hardly stand it. I find your dad and i telling stories to each other as much as we can remember of what we observed or what you said. you are funny and brave and i try so hard not to be too proud or too suffocating and give you your space to be but i surely want to squeeze you for hours a day right now.

i see too you carry us, sometimes even when you shouldn't. in the short time we have been school goers, i see how you catch on to my unfortunate self talk and up and down panic to get us out of the door. I see you wonder if i will find parking, remember your lunch or run late. baby girl, starting today, i will be quieter and more reassuring so you know those are not yours to carry. those are an overloaded brain leaking. what i want you to hear is i am thinking of you, anticipating your day and here for you even if i look at crazy and talk to myself. what i want you to hear is that I am excited for what you will learn in your day.

and at night you have prayed that mom and dad be happier, dear girl, i love your heart and your eyes. oh your eyes take in so much. i wasn't ready for your eyes to know so much but they do. i admire you because you watch and you see. and i am terrified because you watch and you see. so you observe the days when dad and i's faces are long, weary and lonely. dear girl what i wish you to know is that we are happyish. because ultimately it is all worked out and we are trying to find our way each day to know our place in this big bad beautiful world and to not let the bastards get us down. know we are crazy for each other and navigating the best we know how and we have all our hope in a mighty God.

the other day you also told me that at soccer one of the girls did not persevere. i smiled so deep my throat felt it. i know there are down sides of being one to rally and not give up and keep going, but from my view at this point, there are more down sides to caving, quitting, and not finishing well. I probably told you too many times that if you quit you can never learn or win. i am trying to make peace with all the parts of me that think that and the ones that think that sometimes the very kindest thing you will do for yourself is take a break on the field, walk away or not show up. i pray you may be even wiser than me to know the difference. this race needs perseverance and yes dear one you will be hard pressed on all sides, i pray you know where rest is also available to you.

dear one, your world is growing, the influences to your day expanding and I am trying to see well beside you. i am trying to know the days that i pick you up that all you want is no more questions and expectations but a firm yes i want to be with you and yes you can rest with me. i am trying to not scream from the sidelines all that i want you to do and all my genius ideas to better your world, but to know the right minutes when i have your attention to let you know i heard and i have an idea. i wonder dear girl as we put you in so many things, even including sunday school that as your strong imagination takes on the Bible that we will also give you the freedom to ask questions. Especially about the bible. so much of those stories are wild madness and i hope your curious mind has space there to wonder, what is this Jesus/God/Spirit thing about. I hope God's presence is near to you, and that prayer for now can be a place for gratitude and requests.

i cannot believe you are 6. in school. and this unbelievably funny, inviting, thoughtful and lovely. i thank my God everytime I think of you. happy birthday dear one.

Kindergarten meet HAO

To my stunning daughter on her very first day of her school career - kindergarten - day 1.

You woke up happy for this day. After silver dollar pancakes, bacon, ruby red grapefruit juice and swiping your fingers through the syrup, you were counting minutes to go. the air was cool but the sun was out and we took the obligatory 1st day photo in the garden. Your backpack might be bigger than you, but I love the purple and pink strips with teal piping. I bought it from Hannah Anderson because i thought it would be double cool that the front says HA which is clearly for Hannah Amelia. My stunning brave girl facing a new day.

It has been the best summer I can remember in your life. We lived so fully, visited so many we love and tried to waste very little time when the sun was out. And I learned so much more about you. We hit Disney & Jamaica with the Wilson crew, Duck with the Oster crew, Charlotte with the golden ones, Vancouver BC with Wilson-Roberts, and Malibu YL camp for family vacay - you were always up for the adventure. You are truly a better traveler than me and we have traveled this summer by bus, train, airplane and ferry, all of which you take in stride because something in you is so game for exploring. So as we sat around last evening remembering and prepping for today, we all felt full with goodness and gratitude. And I felt a calm that you were so ready for this new beginning.

I actually confess I sort of sucked today because half way through the morning my anxiety set in and i worried about the time and your outfit choice, and I am so sorry. I told you that, but oh, I am sorry for all the way my anxiety crawls all over you and dad's world too. In my heart, i just wanted it to feel perfect for you, and I guess look perfect for everyone else. Anywho, you skipped a bit as we headed for the door and kept saying, "I'm so excited, this is going to be awesome!" And i smile, reminding myself that I have seen you time and time again make yourself available to others and go for it in a room full of strangers. You long for connection with others, it is always so clearly written on your face. And when you are known, you bask in the delight of hearing your name. I am so proud that you say, "I'm not scared." and you observe a room or a field or a camp and find a face to greet.

In case we forget later, your teacher's name is Ms. So, and you are at West Woodland Elementary. We know very few people there, but your great buddy Halina. who is same age but different class. You came home from school and reported that it was a lot like preschool but even better. And then you said your favorite part was recess.

Anywho, I admire you. I feel so excited for the world to get to know you and for you to get to know more of the world. I am SO excited for you to learn more writing and reading, and I feel eager to see and hear how your mind will process all you are offered to learn. This feels so fun, so good. We talked about our hopes, that you would not only take in all you could learn, but that you would also have eyes to see in your room. That since you will be one of the oldest in your class, that you would use your gift of observation to see if some kids look scared or nervous or lonely, and that you would find a way to smile or invite them to play. And I am over the moon to think of the ways God will continue to develop your eyes and heart for Him and people. Oh, i could gush all night. I am proud and thankful, and I will miss you a lot. I am nervous and excited of what you will learn. We are headed to a new place me and you and I am ready to learn how to mother a school girl. a totally stunningly brave open hearted one.

new arrivals

There are a few times of day when i get this feeling that i have arrived.

#1. First cup of coffee.  Ideally with journal/Bible in hand in the early hour of the day 

#2. Second cup of coffee at work that indicates I made it through the morning swirl, the mile walk and the bus ride to Belltown, up a few flights of stairs to my quiet office

#3. Sofa at the end of the day with wine or tea, a book or a fav show, ahhhh. 

Luckily, for those of you who read the list and worry that all my arrivals include times when no one else is involved, and a caffeine or wine bevvie is involved, know that I am expanding my arrival times.   And this is the point. 

I am expanding them to include driving the long way to the grocery store for the last item we forgot so i can get as many views of the mountain sunset as possible. Or to the extra 4 mins I spend laying beside Hannah at the end of the day now, that include no words or sounds but a shared time of together rest. Arrivals include that our family of three competes at wii bowling and UNO. Or at the end of the day when no one has anything left to give and we click on The Tonight Show and hear PH and I's shared laughter.  The way i felt with old friends indicate arrival, that once a table was set, faces alone communicated passage and trial and faith and endurance.   

There are moments in the days where i am finding peace on my own and celebrating accomplishment and the end of duties.  And there are also moments when i am so completely aware of life in the middle of life mayhem.  Like speed walking down a steep hill to make a meeting and seeing a young person with their body crouched inside the door entrance with ripped pants, old shoes and indication that they haven't showered for days. Or reading the news of riots and mental illness, i cannot fix or drown or fear, but i also cannot pretend I didn't read or see it. I have arrived in new places because I have asked God for eyes to see even in the rush. I have asked God to bring me to the present moments not to survive them but to live into them right then and there. What once was an errand is now an extra chance to stare at the splendor of mountains. What once was an inconvenient reality of the news is now a chance to engage my heart and those around me to ask more questions about what we believe and cherish. 

So where do you arrive throughout your days?

Missing the Golden Ones

i lay in bed last night way past midnight and my mind is writing stories. they were all genius last night, of course, yet today I am one jumbled thought after another. it is a beautiful, beautiful evening. most of the time when the air is this luxurious and the light is still out at 9pm, i want to call a friend to walk the lake with me. at this point, the trouble is the friends that pop into mind are mostly all still 3000 miles away.

and i know its time. God told me a few months ago, grieve and celebrate but quit with the holding. it has been 26 months since i left Charlotte and left behind a state full of incredible women. women i knew were special but didn't know that even after months of no conversation they are the ones i long to talk with and still celebrate their children's birthday in heart and prayer from 3000 miles away. i grieve that i don't get to watch their kids grow up. i want to fold in half knowing that i will not see them parent through elementary school. we did the baby and toddler gig together, and oh, they were such wise and beautiful mothers. how i wish to learn and share with them now. how i adore the faces of their children on instagram and wish they still knew Tia, PH and Hannah.

somedays, i selfishly wish they still needed me the way i do them. and this is where i have to arrive. oh the twisting, stomach drop feeling of years of investing both imperfectly and wonderfully to then separate. and i cannot stand that we were the ones that left. we forget so quickly all the reasons we knew we had to go. they feel trivial and idiotic now in comparison to the loss of these beautiful friends. this is the grief. its bigger than 100 layers of a BLT. and i must, absolutely must name it, own it and beg to accept SO THAT...

i can also take joy. Take joy in knowing that this little tiny family felt we were supposed to come out to the wild wild West. Take joy in knowing that God has moved mightily in our home and hearts and it now bares so little resemblance to the life we knew in NC in many good ways. And yet, with so much good, it still makes perfect sense to miss the pieces that do not look the same and feel less beautiful.

i am here. we are here. we mean to be. oh for the love, those worlds are still so hard to type. Because i miss you. i miss your dining room tables and your sofas and your front doors. I miss you when mom gets a good report from the doctor and Stephen starts a new job. i miss you when Hannah learns 20 new jokes and cracks everyone up. I have lost you in a way, BUT i have also been given you forever. i can still cherish memories and life shared. i still know that i had the richest of riches that some people never have once. i can still hope and be bold to wish that even though you don't need me in a way that i want to be needed, you, too, take joy in sharing life together for all the ways we can now. you too think im different enough that the space i used to fill changed. this is what i think God is begging me to believe.

Your space was so huge. Can i trust that my space had value too? Can i rest and celebrate how i could occupy a room with you and that while the next decade will be far sparser in shared air, that we hope for it and enjoy it every time we can. That we do not squander the chance when we have it. oh, do you still miss me? when i prep to come home (yes, i have accepted i have two homes), can i take joy and confidence in the space i still hold with you? that i will not waste all my time focused on what i missed and don't have for the future but that i will sit with you wholeheartedly. oh, that is my dream. because i know you are golden. i know you are worth my whole face, ears, eyes each time we do get to be together and how dare i pilfer off that time to insecurity and unmet grief. i have lost you and yet i have chances with you forever. picking up with you is not replaceable and the value does not wane no matter how many friends are in our lives.

so i am big girl now. i am confessing my major missing. I am naming that we left and that i hold insecurity that i am no longer needed in your life. and what i wish more than worrying is that i would still celebrate all I already received and hope for each and every moment yet to be had. because you are golden. So, there God, I'm trying. It's a bumpy ride of my so human heart but I'm trying. See you soon my dear and forever beautiful friends.

dad dad he is so rad

i had a heart swell this year thinking about father's day, for the many father's i know and see, as well as, for the one i have and the one for my daughter. Sometimes father's get a bad rap and i want to throw something at half the commercials about them. Because in my heart, I am filled with gratitude with the amazing way parenting can be written in every home and enjoy watching it come to life as each family works out how they will bring safety, education, joy and love to their home.

the father i know makes every single little league game through college traveling games, in fact, coaches as many years as he can. the father i know picked me up from school when i had my first period and my mom was at work. the father i know knows no strangers and encourages us to see far and wide and be open-minded. the father i know is kind and fun. the father i know is on the ground with his granddaughter and repeats some of the "hilarious" jokes just as he did with me. the father i know offers every verse he can from the depths of his heart when i am troubled or sad. the father i know is available, teacher, and capable.

my daughter knows a dad who has never been left a list he didn't create for himself. (he does like to check things off). my daughter knows a dad who draws with her; who makes up wildly imaginative stories with her. my daughter knows a dad that makes her meals and packs her lunch. my daughter knows a dad who brushes and braids hair, picks out good outfits and teaches her to tie shoes. my daughter knows a dad that folds her clothes like he still works in Britches and creates all sorts of things out of his old legos with her. My daughter knows a dad who will rest and who loves to learn about God. My daughter knows a dad who puts distraction away to sit on the sofa and tell jokes so she can laugh and laugh.

this year we were blessed to have the Osters Sr. here for Father's Day weekend. When we were going around the table sharing what we each felt thankful for about our father's, it was a nice time to remember and give thanks. And i was thrown off in the best possible way when after i shared, "I am thankful that my dad delights in me." And Hannah, who had already answered about her dad, said, "Oh yeah, like my dad does." And I smiled/cried and said, "yeah, like your dad does". Praise God. Dad, dad, he is so rad.