What a Girl Wants

This Christmas Elf was perusing the aisles of Target for last minute stocking stuffers on the 23rd when her cart was inexplicably taken over by forces outside of her control and forced, yes FORCED, into the shoe aisle. I don’t know how this happens to me, but it just does. It’s like an out of body experience. I just wake up the next morning, poorer, covered with new shoes. Truly!

Anyway, the Christmas Elf suddenly discovered lots and lots of size 7 1/2’s 70% off! What’s an Elf to do when she’s supposed to be getting stocking stuffers? She texted pictures back home to her daughter of sparkly gold shoes, red high heels and black shearling boots, “Tell me NO!!! please!” Elfie’s daughter said, “Those are not stocking stuffers!”

But alas, what a girl wants a girl gets. They were only $10!

To be fair the little Elf decided to bring home a pair of shoes for her little Elf-lette at home. I mean every girl wants shoes at Christmas, right?

Elf-lette was happy!

Elf-lette also learned well from Mama Elf. Mama Elf also had another pair of shoes under the tree from Elf-lette. A rockin’, wicked pair of shoes.

Go Elf-lette!!!

The littlest Elf-lette of all however, took the cake. He knew that every girl wants jewelry for Christmas. Little Elf-lette went shopping at the Santa Store at school several weeks ago and has hardly been able to contain his excitement for his mama Elf’s gift. He handed me a little jewelry box and said, “You’re gonna scream!”

Inside was a precious, fake ring. But, to little Elf-lette’s innocent eyes, it looked like a pure gold, sparkly real diamond ring. And Mama Elf wears it with pride. Little Elf-lette knows the real joy of Christmas. Every girl wants a gift that comes from a sincere heart of love.

I Like Your Toe Nails

It’s Christmas. Ahhh, that joyous time of year when the little ones are home from school which means. . .yelling, screaming, slamming doors, tears, boredom. What’s a mommy to do? This mommy took off work for a week just to be the PeaceKeeper. Not a good or Peace-On-Earth kind of scenario at all!

I was stalking my friends on Facebook today as my two boys were fighting over the couch.

“Nate, get your toe off of me.”

“I was here first Daniel.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was.”

“DON’T TOUCH ME AGAIN!!!”

“So get off the couch.”

Finally in my calmest, most sensible Mommy voice I did what any Mom would do. I yelled.

“STOP IT!”

The little one left sniffling for his room.

Then on one of my friend’s Facebook pages I saw that she too was struggling with the same thing. And SHE had a friend who had a suggestion. So, I tried it.

I called Nate and Daniel back out, made them sit next to each other on the couch and told them they couldn’t get up til they looked at each other and said 5 nice things about each other.

The third thing that came out of Daniel’s mouth was, “Nate, I like your toe nails.”

HUH!?

They started giggling. Then they hugged. Mission accomplished.

As I write the two oldest are doing this exercise.

“Laura I like your jeans, I like you more than dirt.”

Sigh. Well, it’s a start.

And don’t forget, I like your toe nails.

Great Things About the South

I believe in making lemonade out of lemons and laughing when you feel like crying. So, although moving was super hard, I’ve come up with a lot of things already that are great about living in the South.

1. It’s warm. I mean, really, truly warm. Today it was nearly 70 on December 2nd. I had the windows open. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Who cares if it doesn’t feel like Christmas? I’d rather feel like summer.

2. On that note, I can wear sandals in the winter! Yes!

3. Sweet tea.

4. Within 5 minutes of my house is a Starbucks. Also several grocery stores. Widen the radius to 10 minutes and we have a SuperTarget, Ulta, Bath and Body Works, Kohls, Old Navy, Payless Shoes and just about any restaurant you could want.

5. Yet on the other hand, the view out my back deck is nothing but woods and pine trees. It feels like we live in a little cabin in the woods. It’s quiet and peaceful here in our little Georgia home.

6. Apparently there are no need for ice scrapers here. I asked for one the other morning. “A what!” my friend, Cody replied. “You know an ice scraper to get the ice off my window.” He just looked at me funny, prancing with impatience to GET GOING HELLO!? and sipped his coffee. “We don’t have those here.” “What do you DO!?”  He just looked at me like I was an idiot, “We wait for it to melt.” Oh. Stupid me, of course!!

7. You can carry a handgun in Georgia. I don’t know, I just have always wanted to. So I’m gonna. :) Seriously, I saw this dude on his motorcycle with a gun in a holster on his hip! Whoa, that’s cool.

8. Best of all, I have fast internet. So I can use Facebook and Skype to keep in touch with all my Minnesota friends that I miss so much!

What I’ve Learned

We’ve lived more than 9 years here in Duluth. That’s the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere in my entire 38 years. It’s hard to say good-bye. We truly thought we’d call Duluth home forever and it’s hard to find out it’s not going to be; to pack up and find ourselves finding a home in a new, unfamiliar area of the country. I am a completely changed person than I was 9 years ago. I was 29 with a newborn when we moved here. I’m now nearing forty, with a teenager driving, a middle schooler and a 9 year old.

Some stream-of-consciousness ramblings from my nearly-middle-aged brain as I set out on a new adventure.

1. I am fiercely loyal to my friends. That has always been true, but is even more so after this season here in Fond du Lac. If I have told you I love you, I will love you and defend you til my death. I will sacrifice my personal reputation and comfort for my friends.

2. On the opposite side of this I’ve discovered what a true friend is; and is not. If you say you are my friend but in the end don’t bother to hear my story, remain loyal to me or support me in crisis, I will drop you like a hot potato. I’ve learned a true friend supports you through thick and thin and you can say anything and they will listen to you. A true friend will love you will all your faults and is there at a moments notice. A true friend believes the best about you. I don’t need or have the time and energy for the drama of false friends. See ya later.

3. I have a voice. For many years I was afraid to speak my mind in my own home. I’ve learned that in order to have a marriage that works, you have to be honest. You have to be true to who you are and let the chips fall where they may. You have a voice, a dream that matters, and a personality that is all your own. It’s a gift to cherish.

4. I still hate to be cold. More than almost anything in the world I hate being cold. Not in the way like born and bred Minnesotans say, “Oh I hate the cold,” but being cold feels painful to me. And yet I’ve also learned how to thrive and adapt in the cold. I’ve learned to snowshoe, cross country ski and downhill ski. But, I still hate to be cold. SmartWool is my friend. And so is summer.

5. My love for shoes has only grown. There must be a drug in shoes. All I know is I’m addicted. If buying shoes is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

6. I’ve always identified myself as a “Christian.” And yet my faith has been rocked these past few years. Those who identify themselves that way have been the most spiteful, mean, gossiping people I’ve ever met in my life and have made our lives a literal living hell. And others who don’t necessarily wear any label at all except that of a good friend and neighbor have been the most kind, generous, loving and Christian people I’ve known. Here’s what I know for sure: Jesus is the Son of God and he died on the cross for my sins. Can we agree to disagree on the rest and quit being so spiteful? If being a “Christian” means I have to be in one group or the other, I choose the friends and neighbors who have had my back this year. God knows everyone’s hearts and you know, when you think about that, that’s a scary thing.

7. I’m not perfect. Whoa, shocking revelation, huh? I’ve always been a perfectionist and beat myself up when I’ve failed. But, I’ve failed big time these past few years. And my friends and family still love me. Wow.

8. I’m stronger than I think. I can handle way more than I ever thought possible. More physical hardship. More emotional hardship. I can bloom where I’m planted and stand on my own two feet. I am the hero in my own story.

9. Sometimes life turns upside down and completely not the way you thought it would. Things happen to you and your family that you never would have chosen for them. Being out of control of your life is sometimes not something you would choose, but it happens. I can’t protect my kids, but I can prepare them. I can do everything I can to help them be the strongest they can be for life’s ugly circumstances. Life just plain old sucks sometimes. I hate that I can’t make my kids life all rosy, but I can always, always be there for them. I am their Mom, I brought them into this world and I’m responsible to help them through the best way I know how. I have to accept I’m going to fail at that task too sometimes, but we’re all doing the best we can together.

10. Everything happens for a reason. ‘Nuff said.

11. Wearing a mask never works. We tried that one here in our family for a lot of years and eventually the facade cracks. The pastor’s family is a family just like yours. We have major issues. We come to the edge of divorce. We fight. We make mistakes. We learn and grow and change through them. But pretending everything’s ok when it’s not only hurts and makes things worse. Being honest with everyone around me is freaking people out right now, but it’s been so liberating! I highly recommend honesty.

12. The fishbowl life is not for me. I’ve done it for 16 years and I’m through. Although I’m broken-hearted to leave such good friends, I can’t tell you how excited I am to just be a normal family. This will be the first time we’ve ever chosen where we want to live, what house we want to live in, the jobs we want to do, the church we want to go to and the friends we want to have. I’m a live wire and now it totally doesn’t freaking matter what I say, wear, do, go, talk to, etc. I can breathe again.

13. Having neighbors who are also your friends is something I have wanted my whole life and I finally had that here in Fond du Lac. That is a huge blessing I do not take for granted. In this day and age you often can’t trust those you live next door to, but here we have had the best neighbors, whose homes have been our homes. We’ve been family to them. I know I want that again, but I don’t know if I’ll ever have it. I was lucky here, and I’m grateful.

14. The last year especially has been our most difficult year. It has separated the sheep from the goats if you will. We’ve discovered our true friends. I think this quote by Henri Nouwen sums up the most important lessons I’ve learned here:

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.

Southern Comfort

Well I just need a place to lay my head
Forget the chain that hangs around my neck
These guns are not as heavy as the hearts they defend
I can't wait to get back home where I can find some rest

When I lay down my guns and lift my hands
Surrender to Love and live again
May this desert reach its end where my new life begins
When I lay down my guns and lift my hands

And I have seen the devil in this place
And I lost myself when my friends found the grave
When you're this far from Heaven
It's hard to keep the faith
I'm barely holding on
I can't wait to

Lay down my guns and lift my hands
Surrender to Love and live again
May this desert reach its end where my new life begins
When I lay down my guns and lift my hands

And I'm laying down these burdens
Taking off the weights
And I can't count the miles that I've walked to find my way
To lay down these guns
How I need to lay down these guns
Lay down my guns and lift my hands
Surrender to Love and live again
May this desert reach its end where my new life begins
And I'll abandon my defenses and live to love again
When I lay down my guns and lift my hands

-Sanctus Real

It’s been said many times we are in a war. And in a war, there are often casualties. The ministry is the front lines of that war and our family has been on the front lines for 16 years. The past 3 or 4 we have taken particularly heavy fire. The losses and hits have been heavy. Nathan and I are wounded and bleeding and lying far apart on this battlefield. Our children are in between. Laura, who is old enough to understand the issues at stake in this war, is also bleeding profusely, dazed and confused. Nate and Daniel are stumbling around somewhere in between, ears ringing from the gunfire, unsure why the world around them has been shaken so severely.

The church was never intended to be this way. The church should build families up and bring them together and more than anything should support those who serve them and should build their faith. Unfortunately, our family is battered and bruised and my faith for sure is severely shaken.

Sometimes even the bravest, strongest, generals know that retreat is the wisest move. And so, our family is laying down our guns and retreating. We are gathering up our wounded, circling the wagons and retreating.

When we moved to Duluth nine years ago, we were in a similar, though not quite so severe situation. We hoped Fond du Lac would be a refuge for us. In a magazine from VisitDuluth.com I found, and cut out, this little advertisement for Duluth. It’s been on my fridge for 9 years. It says this:

Maybe it’s time to recapture some of that youthful exuberance. Time to get out of Dodge, so to speak. Time to take the family away and bring them back together. Who knows? You could end up just as excited as you used to be.

And so that’s exactly what we are doing. We quit our jobs. We are moving South, far, far away to Atlanta, GA. We’re getting the heck outta Dodge. Nathan and I are leaving the ministry, the battle, the fishbowl. We’re going to try being “average joes” for awhile. Nope, we don’t know what we’re gonna do. And until 5 p.m. today we weren’t even sure exactly where we were gonna live. At least that is now taken care of.

http://www.trulia.com/property/3033924198-522-River-Pl-Woodstock-GA-30188

I’m being perfectly open and honest here. The last few years have been hell for our family, our kids, our marriage. We are going to go try to put it all back together somehow. A fresh start. A new beginning. We may have lost a battle, but we haven’t lost the war.

Who knows? We could end up just as excited as we used to be.

It’s Not About the Purse

It’s been an “interesting” summer to say the least. Our family has been through some pretty major upheaval. We are all going through major changes personally, emotionally, spiritually and in our family life. Some of these changes have been evident to everyone around us. I mean, obviously everyone knew Nathan took a sabbatical and then resigned from the ministry. But, some of the other changes, the why behind it all haven’t been so obvious. But, they are so super important.

We’ve been playing a dangerous game here in the Sahlberg family and in the church at large. A game of wearing masks to disguise who we really are to fit in to a group and meet their expectations and to pretend everything is ok when it really isn’t. And I’m willing to take the fall for this one; I’m the one who put the brakes on it all. I simply got sick of the whole dance. I got tired of the game. I got sick of pretending we were ok when we weren’t. Pretending to be something we weren’t. And being forced into a mold that just didn’t fit me or any of us. So, for once in my life I stood up and said, “I Quit!” It was scary. I wasn’t sure if my husband would agree, but I knew none of us could continue the way we were anymore. I was hurting, my kids were hurting and my husband was hurting even though he didn’t know it yet.

Lois Evan said, “Submission is learning to duck so God can hit your husband.”

I realized that being quiet was not ok, it was not getting us anywhere. And it wasn’t Christian either. The Bible is full of strong, independent women like Esther, Deborah and Ruth who stood up and took the first step toward change.

The past 5 months have been unbelievably painful. But I’ve learned at least one valuable lesson about myself and here it is (thanks to both my friend, Nick, and my counselor, Laura) (and yes, that’s right, I am in counseling, so what?)

Ready? It’s HUGE!!!!

It’s not about the purse!!!


Huh? Yeah, you knew it was going to involve fashion with me, right?

Let me explain.

Let’s say you want to be in a certain group, but to fit in you have to carry a $2000 designer purse, but you can’t afford it, so you decide to go be in another group where you only have to carry a $200 purse. And in THAT group you will have the coolest purse. So you get the purse and everyone admires you and you are the IT girl in that group. But, guess what, it’s not about the purse!

Once you realize that, you can buy whatever purse YOU like and whatever purse fits YOUR personality. And then you can move about through any group you want. And in every group some people will like you and some won’t, but who cares? Because it’s not about the purse.

The problem I was having, and I think a lot of us have is, I had a whole closet full of purses (theoretical purses here, ok???) and on any given day I was totally stressed out because I had to get up and pick the RIGHT purse for the situation and group and hope I had it right. But, none of those purses fit ME!

So, I threw them all out! Every singe one. Cuz I hated them all. Hated them with a passion. And I bought a new purse. Just one. That purse screams MOLLY! And I don’t care if you like my purse or not. It’s MY purse and it’s the one I carry.

I’ve discovered something. People who pretended to like my purse before at least are honest now about hating my new purse and people who didn’t really like my old collection of purses LOVE my new purse.

And more importantly: I love my new purse.

Dazzled

I had “one of those days.” I was given the runaround today between my prescription company and my hospital, trying to refill a prescription. Between the two of them, neither would help me, neither would cooperate and neither would authorize my prescription. By the end of the conversation I was crying in frustration. And frustrated that as a girl, I cry when I’m frustrated. The guy on the phone at the prescription company actually said to me, “It’s not that no one wants to help you ma’am we just don’t do that here.” You just don’t do what!? Help me!? ARGH!!!

I left for work, worked a long day and then had a longer meeting and got home at 9 pm. I haven’t even seen my daughter today except to drive her to work this morning.

I arrived home to, finally, one good thing.

My double ShoeDazzle order had arrived.

OK, I’m easily placated; easily made happy. If that makes me shallow, sue me.

What normal girly-girl wouldn’t be soothed by the site of THESE waiting for her at the end of a long, frustrating day?

And to top it all off? Nathan surprised me with an outfit I showed him a week ago at my favorite Canal Park store.

Sweet dreams tonight. Too bad I can’t sleep in my new attire. But. . .I could sleep NEXT to my new shoes. . .

Through the Garden Gate: July, The Early Harvest

Last year our friend, Don, gardener extraordinaire, gave us six strawberry plants. We planted them, and although we wanted to test a few berries, I dutifully pulled off each, early flower, because I knew this would yield a greater crop the next year and allow the plant to put all of its energy into the plant.

This year our six plants have morphed into over one hundred plants. And they are covered with berries. Big, beautiful, juicy strawberries.

The rest of my garden is still growing; the beans just beginning to flower. Harvest is still a month off, but these first berries give me hope and bring great delight to our tummies!

I know I’ve used a lot of garden metaphors for life, but I’m a gardener, so I see a lot similarities. And I spend a lot of time alone among my plants, so maybe it makes me weird that way.

I find myself, after many years of hard work, finally entering the early harvest in my parenting. I’ve done a lot of plowing, a lot of weeding, a lot of pruning. And I can honestly say much of what I now enjoy with my daughter, as in gardening, is a product of the Master Gardener. As in gardening, we can do our best, but in the end we simply have to sit back and pray. Pray for the right amount of sun and rain and just the right soil for all of our hard work to take root. There’s great freedom in knowing you’ve done your best and then leaving the rest in God’s hands.

Even when we begin to enjoy the fruit of the early harvest; the joy of friendship with our kids in the middle teen years, there is still sometimes hard work left to do. Still weeding and pruning. If I just picked my berries and left them alone, I would have no berries next year. As I pick, I pull weeds. The same is true in my daughter’s life. It’s a fine balance, this delicate dance between girlhood and womanhood. I struggle with it everyday; finding just the right mix between friend, advisor, parent, coach. When do I step in? When do I say hands off? When do I listen? When do I speak? When do I giggle with her and when do I admonish?

And not far behind are two more unique plants that need lots of tending.

But, how blessed I am to tend these gardens. Gardens of earth and plants and gardens of hearts, minds and lives. There is no greater privilege in my estimation.

Grief That Does Not Speak

They say only death and taxes are inevitable. However, after having been around the block once or twice, I would have to argue that grief is also inevitable. Every single human being on this earth will face a trial, a heartache, a loss that will cause unspeakable grief inside their heart.

Each person’s grief may be different and the way they express it is also different. What causes our grief is myriad. The loss of a child, a parent, a spouse. A health crisis. A relationship crumbling. A move. War.

Through the seasons of grief I have walked through and am currently walking through, one thing has become, sadly clear. We are uncomfortable with grief in our culture. Most guys can’t stand it when women cry. Yet crying allows release of our deepest emotions. Crying and talking through our grief and feelings allows us to talk through our pain and heal. Although this is true, I have rarely found a person willing and able to listen to deep sorrow. I have been told many a time, “Get over it, you’ll feel better soon!” The greatest gift in grief is a listening ear, a hug, a quiet friend.

William Shakespeare had this to say about grief, “Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.”

The most difficult thing I’ve noticed in grief, especially within “the church” or the Christian community is an unspoken expectation that when we grieve we will do so quickly and quietly without being a bother to others. Where this mistaken notion comes from, I have no idea, but we do ourselves and our brothers and sisters a great disservice with this false idea.

There is no timetable for grief. Every person’s grief looks different. There is no “wrong” or “right” way to grieve. We can not look into a person’s heart and judge the motives and know when they have crossed over into bitterness and unforgiveness.

Having faced grief many times over I can honestly say grief is hard work and takes time; often a lot of time. More time than the non-grieving person can understand. Yet a sensitive friend is the one who comes over at the drop of a hat when you’re having an “ugly cry” and puts her arms around you. She doesn’t say much, just sits and lets you cry. A true friend lets you drop by their house and spill your guts and your rambling thoughts for hours and still loves you and your faults.

The beautiful thing about nurturing friendships in a time of grief is this: grief will come around to all of us. If we have been understanding and helpful to another their time of grief, you can be sure you have a close friend who will do the same for you in your difficult season. Just like the sun comes up in the morning, it will come. And for those who walk through grief, speak your heart, give yourself time, it will get better. I take my own counsel in this: one day, one hour, one step at a time.

I Think I Have a Problem

My daughter pointed out yesterday that the family always has to match on holidays and special occasions. I don’t like accusations without evidence, so I decided to see if this was true.

Nathan’s parent’s 40th wedding anniversary:

Easter 2011:

Thanksgiving 2010:

Easter 2010:

4th of July 2010:

Need I go on? I guess she may have a point. Do you think there’s a support group for this or should I just start saving now for therapy for my kids?

19 Pairs of Flip Flops

Nate’s been asking me for new flip flops for awhile. And I’ve been telling him, now that he has a job, he can get his own. And, of course, I believe you can never have too many flip flops; I could live in them year round.

Today, was our day! Old Navy had their flip flops on sale for $1 apiece! Each person could buy 5 pairs, so up to the mall the kids and I went. We went a little crazy. Daniel could only find 4 pairs he liked, but you do the math. 4 people, limit of 5. Bring on the warm weather!

Through the Garden Gate – May: Hope and Failure

Shakespeare said that “April is the cruelest month,” but Shakespeare never lived in Duluth. Since I moved here 8 1/2 years ago, I’d have to argue that May is the cruelest month. Rain, East winds, capricious temperatures, with a few warm, sunny days thrown in to mess with our minds.

There is a rule of 3’s regarding survival: “You can survive 3 months without companionship or love, 3 weeks without food, 3 days without water, 3 hours without shelter (in extreme circumstances), 3 minutes without air, but only 3 seconds without hope.”

A Minnesota, May garden is an exercise in hope. Tiny little plants start pushing up through the ground. I have hope that those lily bulbs will one day look like this again:



But, for now my garden only gives me tiny, little hopeful reminders.

A single stalk of asparagus:



A brave, little johnny-jump-up:



My bleeding heart, just beginning to bloom:


I plant my vegetables with hope; hope that I will have a fabulous harvest at the end of the summer.

And yet, hope also carries with it the fear of failure. Why do we as humans fear failure so much? We all fail. In fact, just today I was explaining to my middle son that neither I nor his dad were perfect. “That’s good,” he replied. “That would be annoying.”

It is annoying when people attempt to be perfect or expect perfection from us, yet why do we expect it of ourselves?

Hope and failure go hand in hand. We fall down, we get back up. We have hope and faith that we will do it better the next time; that we learn our lessons and come out of each successive failure better people, stronger people.

In an article I read today, Kate Hudson said, “Fail, fail again, fail better. Only in failure do you reach success. You can only get to the good stuff when you’ve done the hard stuff.”

Failure is hard, but there is always hope that we will come out on the other side. Failure never lasts forever. Get back up. Keep hoping.

My Bad

I did something so completely moronic this past week, I’m almost embarrassed to admit it. But, I’m going to, in the hopes that you, my blog readers, will also ‘fess up to your brainless moments to make me feel better. Yes, I’m turning to my Internet friends for comfort and solace. Pathetic, I know.

So, I bought this awesome, new sewing machine two months ago, and it’s been working like a charm. I love it. But, the other night I was sewing with it in my kitchen and the foot pedal just quit working. I was so frustrated! I mean, c’mon! My brand new sewing machine! We looked at it and hemmed and hawed and I eventually brought it in to get it repaired.

Two weeks passed, and I was in quilting withdrawals. I finally pulled out my old machine and decided to sew with. My sewing room is kinda cold right now and messy, so I hauled my machine up to the kitchen and plugged it into the same outlet. Uh-huh, do you see where this is going?

It worked fine for awhile, but suddenly the foot pedal quit working! If I was a cartoon character a little light bulb would have appeared, BING! over Molly’s empty head. Could it be the outlet? I did what I should have done the first time and plugged the machine into a different outlet, and wouldn’t you know it worked just fine?

Not the sewing machine, just a faulty outlet.

I picked up my new machine from the repair place yesterday and skulked out, hoping they wouldn’t ask too many questions. I’m sure there’s some sort of lesson or conclusion I could draw from this, but right now I’m just feeling too silly.

One friend told me she bought a new curling iron when the same thing happened to her, but this friend and I have decided that we have one full brain between the two of us, so this didn’t make me feel much better.

Please, please, tell me I’m not alone in my stupidity! Or just laugh at my expense if it makes you feel better.

My Favorite Job

I love being a mom. Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to grow up and be a mom. That was always my one goal in life. I knew I wanted to have kids and stay home to raise them. By the time I was in college I also knew I wanted to homeschool my kids. So, to say that I love being the mom of Laura, Nate and Daniel is a massive understatement.

This is my 15th Mother’s Day. My, how the time does fly! Every mother with more than one child can attest to the fact that each child is unique, and I celebrate the differences that make my kiddoes so fascinating.

Laura Jane is my only daughter and made me a mom when I was just 22 years old. I sometimes wonder what in the world I was doing at such a tender age, taking a tiny little newborn home, but she was gracious to me, and we got along just fine. Thankfully, she was a pretty easy going baby and such a fun little girl. Our personalities couldn’t be more different and when she was younger, this would frustrate me to no end. Laura is extremely unemotional and almost nothing flusters her, including her mother’s emotional ups and downs. When she was little, her stubbornness drove me insane as she would pick the craziest hills to die on. Today however, she has channeled this character trait into something positive. She is assertive and will not back down on something she believes is right, even in the face of tremendous peer pressure. For a mom of a teenager, this is something that is reassuring and makes me incredibly proud. Laura also has a great sense of humor and is becoming my ally and closest friend. I love having a daughter! It might be prejudiced to say, but I happen to think she’s the most beautiful 15-year old I know; inside and out!

Then there’s Nate! He was my happy baby. He giggled and laughed his way through babyhood. And really, he hasn’t stopped. He has a funny, outgoing, charming personality. Oh yeah, and if you know him, you’ll know he never stops talking. About anything and everything. Hmmm, I wonder where he got that from? Nate is our miracle baby. I lost a baby in between Laura and Nate. When I was only 5 weeks pregnant with Nate, we nearly lost him too. For most of the my pregnancy with Nate there was an enormous blood clot dwarfing Nate in my uterus that threatened his life. We went in for weekly ultrasounds to check up on him. By the time that threat had passed, I went into pre-term labor with him at 30-weeks. The doctors were just minutes from an emergency C-section when things turned around. Nate, thankfully, was delivered full-term, just a week early. Everything was normal and he was a healthy 8 lb baby boy! God must have big plans for our first son! Nate loves Legos and loves to build. In fact, he is incredibly gifted at building. He hopes to be an architect someday and I can’t wait to see what amazing buildings and structures come out of that imaginative mind of his!

Then there’s Daniel. Oh my. Daniel. We thought long and hard about a third baby. My body had been through a lot with my fibromyalgia and the hyper emesis I suffer with in pregnancy. We were advised to not have anymore children after Nate, but we prayed about it and felt strongly that we should have one more. I am so glad we did. I can’t imagine this family without Daniel. Daniel, although to the outside world, seems to be quiet and shy, is the resident family clown. Once you get to know him you find out that he is hilarious! Daniel keeps this family in stitches! Daniel also has a will of iron! This was unbelievably difficult to me during his 2nd and 3rd years. It took me quite a bit of patience and digging to figure out this little boy who could scream for 45 minutes because I cut his toast in squares instead of triangles and who instantly began to bang his head on the floor and scream the minute we walked into church. But, we got through it. I found Daniel some coping mechanisms and we also discovered that he couldn’t hear! Surgery for tubes twice have certainly helped with that. Daniel has tenaciously overcome many challenges and is currently chipping away at learning to read. I love to snuggle with Daniel. Daniel is the one who will cuddle up on my lap, hugs me every morning and tells me I’m beautiful every day. What mom could resist that!? Daniel says he’s going to be a policeman someday.

“I get kissed by the sun
Each morning
Put my feet on a hardwood floor
I get to hear my children laughing
Down the hall through the
Bedroom door
Sometimes I sit on my
Front porch swing
Just soaking up the day
I think to myself, I think to myself
This world is a beautiful place
I have been blessed
And I feel like I’ve found my way
I thank God for all I’ve been given
At the end of every day
I have been blessed
With so much more than I deserve
To be here with the ones
That love me
To love them so much it hurts
I have been blessed”

-I Have Been Blessed

Martina McBride

Don’t Make Me Change!!!

What is it about the human pysche that abhors change? I’m tired today. I faced a lot of change, just running errands. Three bad changes, and one admittedly awesome change.

The first was the massive re-arranging of my local grocery store. Really!? Why, SuperOne, why!? Why are all the organic products placed randomly throughout the store on bump out shelves in every single aisle? What is the rhyme and reason? Why are the chips now in aisle 2 instead of the last aisle? What was wrong with the deli in the back of the store and why in the world is there now a big DITCH in the middle of the produce section!? I can only assume several, oh-so-intelligent men who never grocery shop, EVER, EVER, EVER, decided on this change.

Then I went to Wendy’s for lunch. Wendy’s. Who has the best fries in the whole world. And has had the best fries in the whole world for like, what? 25 years? Now they have, “natural cut fries with sea salt.” WHY!? They’re ok, but they’re not the best fries in the whole world anymore.

And of course, we can’t fail to mention the wonderful, changeable weather here in Duluth. Yesterday I enjoyed a perfect Spring day. 73, balmy, sunny. Today, 35 mph winds, 36 degrees, driving rain. Glad I didn’t let Nathan put my down coat away yet.

I admit, all this frustrating change was getting me down until I went to Target. Have I ever said before that I love Target? Yeah, I do. I loved it when they “changed” and got a grocery section, and today I noticed where an exit used to be there was a new sign behind a piece of plastic. Oh. My. Word. What was that sign, shining like a lighthouse of hope in my future? STARBUCKS!!!! Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!! At last. A good, fabulous, fantastic change in my world! I can shop at Target to my heart’s content AND get a cinnamon dolce latte on my way out!

Change is inevitable in our world and I suppose we might as well get used to it. Those who are flexible, roll with the changes and even learn from them. Those who are stubborn and hard, only get broken by change. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that made me laugh. It said, “Blessed are the flexible, they never get bent out of shape.”

So, I guess I can learn to navigate my new grocery store, and put on my stupid coat and scarf again, AND ok the fries were alright. And I can definitely get behind a Starbucks at Target. And the bigger, less fun changes in my life, well, maybe I can learn from them too.

Grow or get out of the way.

Remembering; Rejoicing

Today is a bittersweet day for my family. Five years ago, my 26 year-old cousin, Beckie, lost her battle with cancer and went home to heaven. For everyone who was privileged to know Beckie, of course it’s always hard because we miss her.  But, we also are able to look back on her life as an incredible gift.

Sometimes when someone dies young it seems like such a tragic waste. The young person has often not done very much yet or has lived selfishly for themselves. My cousin, Beckie, however, was an extraordinary young woman. In her short life she inspired everyone who knew her to live more fully, to know God better, to be unselfish. In short, hers was an unwasted life. Beckie’s life was lived for others, for the glory of God.

Beckie’s life verse was I Thessalonians 5:16-18, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Such small words packed with such enormous implications.

Rejoice. ALWAYS.

Pray. WITHOUT CEASING.

Give thanks. IN EVERYTHING.

One small thing I remember that made a huge impact on my life was that Beckie made it her goal to thank each and every person who gave care to her in the hospital; from the nurse who gave her her chemo drugs, to the worker who brought a lunch tray in. At the time I was going through many surgeries myself. Shortly after Beckie’s funeral, I underwent an extensive surgery and hospital stay. I remembered this verse and Beckie’s example and even in my pain and drugged state I thought, “If Beckie could do this while going through chemo, so can I.” I tried to remember to thank the nurse who drew my blood (ick) and the guy who brought me yucky hospital food and especially the ones who gave me pain meds!

Rejoice. Pray. Give thanks.

In the good times and the bad.

When she was in the hospital I made Beckie a quilt. It was called “Tea in the Garden.” I tried to include lots of bright colors and flowers since she was in isolation and couldn’t go outside that spring. After her death, I was privileged to receive that quilt back. Today I sleep under it at night and am reminded of Beckie’s amazing life and her Savior she served who made her life possible.

I am grateful I knew her. Grateful for the summers on Old Hickory Lake in Nashville. Grateful for her example.

The Cure for the Imperfect Parent

Yesterday I messed up big time. I had gotten a new purse and it came with this big gold chain and medallion on it as the “tag.” I took it off, obviously, and Daniel wanted it. He thinks chains and medallions are kinda cool and likes to add them to his little treasure chest.

Yesterday morning he came downstairs, where we were all in the kitchen, wearing it around his neck. I couldn’t help it, I cracked up laughing. I mean, c’mon, the kid looked like P.Diddy, all blinged out! I told him he looked like a rapper. Nathan started laughing too, and so did Nate and Laura. As mom goes, so goes the rest of the family. Big. Mistake. Daniel punched Nate and ran upstairs crying.

I found him curled up in his bed, up against the wall. He wouldn’t come down and wouldn’t talk to me, so I climbed up. Now, understand this child has a loft bed up in the sloped eaves of his room. Perfect place for an 8-year-old with hurt feelings to hide out, not such a great place for a 37-year-old mom to try to wedge herself.

What’s a parent to do when they mess up?

We can pretend like we’re the almighty, always right, do-what-I-say-or-else parent and trample all over our kids’ feelings. But, that doesn’t do much for our relationships with our kids. The other option is humility.

Humility allows our kids to understand that their parents are human and make mistakes too. How wonderful for our kids to know that mom and dad mess up and need to make things right. Then our children can understand that it’s ok to not be perfect. If mom and dad mess up and can humbly ask for forgiveness, our children will learn to do the same.

I believe that humbling ourselves before our kids and admitting our faults does not diminish our authority, but actually does more to build our authority and respect in their eyes than pretending that we are perfect. Admitting wrong opens the doors to communication and love.

So, I climbed up on the bed and wiggled over on my stomach to Daniel. My heart hurt. I had hurt my baby, without meaning to, but I did. I put my arms around him and simply told him, “Hey buddy, I hurt your feelings. I am so, so sorry. I was wrong to laugh at you. Will you forgive Mommy?”

The awesome thing about kids is that they are always quick to forgive and they don’t hold grudges.  Within 5 minutes he was snuggling in my lap again and all was forgiven and made right.

I’m not going to ever be a perfect parent. I wish I was. But, by being humble and admitting when I blow it, I can point Daniel to the One Perfect Father who never fails him. The Perfect Parent I rely on for the strength to teach my own kids every single day. He’s the only cure for this oh so imperfect parent.

Good Looks Aren’t Everything

Today I bought the strangest pair of shoes I’ve ever seen, but a pair I’ve had my eyes on for quite awhile.

These are running shoes, called Vibram Five Fingers. These shoes are part of a new wave of runners who love to run barefoot. Of course, running “barefoot” doesn’t exactly work for a tenderfoot like me, so Vibram came up with these nifty shoes that mimic being barefoot, but protect the bottom of your feet.

There’s a lot of science behind barefoot running, but the basic idea is this: the strongest structure in architecture is an arch. Your foot was wonderfully designed by God with an arch! Why would you support an arch? All of the bones and muscles and tendons in your foot, and legs and back and hips were made to work with that amazing, strong arch. Thus: barefoot.

Christopher MacDougall explains all this in his fascinating and sometimes very humorous book, Born to Run.

I admit, these are not my cutest shoes. I’m sure I’ll get looks when I wear them, but only because they are so weird. However, even I believe good looks aren’t everything. Sometimes comfort takes precedence. And when I run, comfort is everything! I’m a girl who lives for being barefoot. If I could live at the beach in flip flops and my bare feet for the rest of my life, I’d be supremely happy!

But, in the meantime as I run and amble over the trails behind my house, I’ll wear these bizarre five-toed lavender shoes on my feet. Don’t be too surprised next time you see me running down the street. No, I haven’t grown new feet, just a new pair of shoes.

Spring Shoes

There are things that have put a smile on my face this week.

Lunch with a friend.

Longer, sunnier, warmer days.

Runs through the woods.

The sound of melting snow and trickling water in the creek.

Geese moving back in on the river.

And new shoes.

In turquoise blue:

And sunny yellow:

Would it be a fashion faux paus to wear them both at the same time?

Through the Garden Gate - March

Next week will “officially” be Spring. However, in the far Northern reaches of our country, Spring is a misnomer. One of my favorite quotes is by Henry Van Dyke. He says, “The first day of Spring is one thing and the first spring day another.” The first spring day could be in June around here!

March is the season of mud, water, puddles, mud, lakes, rivers, mud, mud, and more mud. Currently, I have to walk through the slushy snow in my yard AROUND an enormous puddle on my sidewalk that is ankle deep. At night it freezes into a small ice skating rink, but by 10 a.m. it’s a very cold, wet trap for unsuspecting mailmen and visitors.

My garden is more of the same; melting snow and mud. Spring heralds the changing of the season and here in Duluth, it’s mostly just very, very messy.

Change is messy.

The past year of my life has been incredibly painful personally for me. I’m still struggling with who I am, who I am supposed to be and where my identity is found. There are circumstances that I have to admit have rocked me to the core and changed me in ways that I sometimes don’t like at all.

I wonder what will come out of all of this change? It’s a mess right now. I feel a little like my yard. Wet, muddy, slushy, messy. I wonder if underneath the mud and mess there is a beautiful flower garden just waiting to burst forth. I think there might be, but I think it’s going to be painful to find it and a bit of a mess first.

So, pardon my mud. Pardon my mess. God’s still working on me.

Perhaps you have someone else in your life who looks a little, or maybe a lot like a mess. Maybe you are a mess. Change is messy. Keep pushing through it. Those irises and crocuses and pansies, the first harbingers of spring, have to work hard to push through the snow and slush and mud. Be gentle with yourself and others.

“There’s a better version of me, that I can’t quite see,

But things are gonna change.

Right now I’m a total mess and right now I’m completely incomplete.

But things are gonna change.”

Kitchen Biology

Normally I love home-schooling. And, in theory, I even like teaching science. Biology is fun when we are learning about the phylums and all the different kinds of animals.

This is my kitchen counter how it normally looks on a school day:

One kid at the computer, a science notebook out, a pencil or two.

Today, however, Laura had to dissect a worm. Ugh. On my counter.

I’m all in favor of science, but in my kitchen? Bleah. Of course, the boys found the whole thing fascinating!

I’m looking for the bleach. . ., and dreading the frog.

Reflecting on 15 years of Memories

This time 15 years ago, I was in a lot of pain! But, it was good pain, and I was getting ready to deliver my firstborn. I was young, only 22, and had no idea what I was getting into. Actually, when I got pregnant I had no idea what I was getting into, nor did poor Nathan. I developed something called hyper emesis gravidarum, which basically means, you throw up 24/7 all nine months. I spent my entire pregnancy with Laura in bed, or in the hospital and taking large amounts of anti-nausea drugs. As a 21/22 year-old, I had no idea pregnancy could nearly kill you. So, when I went into labor on March 11, 1996, let just say I was so glad to finally be reaching the end of my ordeal. I had no idea who I was about to meet, but I was convinced in my oh-so-wise-22-years, that I was having a girl.

At 5:17, the doctor indeed announced, “It’s a girl!” Laura came into the world the same way she’s continued to approach life; with little fanfare or fuss; just interestedly observing the players around her. No crying, eyes wide open as if to say, “Hmmm, what have we here? This is interesting.”

I had rosy pink dreams of cuddling my newborn daughter close as I fed her and bonding over the years with all kinds of mommy/daughter activities. Of course, we would be best friends! Laura quickly shattered those illusions. Why did I forget to remember she was born to ME? Me: firstborn, type-A, strong personality. Why did I think my daughter would comply? Laura: firstborn, type-A, strong personality, only unlike me, always and completely in control of her emotions.

She didn’t like to cuddle, she never laughed and didn’t smile at strangers. Don’t get me wrong; she was a very happy baby. At home. In public she was a complete stoic. But, she fell in with our lifestyle very well and we just sort of toted Laura around wherever we went. When she was two she climbed a mountain in Georgia with us, no complaints. Now, I wonder, what were we thinking!? But, that was Laura. I also remember Laura at two being completely oblivious to my emotional meltdowns over her naughty behavior. She would listen to me rant and cry with a stony expression on her face and then say, “huh.”  It would nearly send me into orbit! I felt like she was 2 going on 12!

When I began to homeschool her in 1st grade, I think we both thought we’d not survive. My personality clashed with hers and there were many days we both ended up crying. But, I soldiered on, reminding myself that friendship with Laura was the end goal, not the current state of affairs. I was called to be her mom, not her friend. I desperately read books about parenting, talked to other moms who were farther along the journey than I was, and asked God for the wisdom to raise this strong-willed daughter, who just happened to be an awful lot like me!

I can’t point to the exact time things began to be different around here. Where was that line where the little girl started to fade away and the young lady began to blossom? All I know is one day, maybe we were working together in the kitchen, and we both cracked up at the same thing; something that completely mystified the three guys in the house. Hmmm, this is weird. I thought. It’s kind of like I have a friend here, who ‘gets’ me. But, I thought maybe it was a fluke.

And then it began to happen more often. People would comment how much we looked, sounded and acted alike. Laura and I would get the giggles over nothing and laugh until tears rolled down our faces while the boys sat looking at us like we were insane. We shared clothes and private jokes. I stopped having to tell her to do stuff and realized she was just here helping me. Just. Like. A. Friend. Wow.

And now, it’s 15 years since her birth. 15 years that have flown buy in an instant. I don’t want to even TALK about where we’ll both be 15 years from now; it will go so fast! (and I’ll be so old!!!) 15. 3 more short years til she’s off for college and my closest friend is not here all the time anymore. Then who will laugh at my jokes? There will just be 3 boys to simply laugh at me!

I can’t tell you how blessed I’ve been to know this young lady. She’s not mine, she’s on loan, she’s a gift I treasure. Laura means “Crown of Beauty.”

My prayer for Laura has been Isaiah 62:2,3:

“And the ^nations will see your righteousness, And all kings your glory; And you will be called by a new ^name, Which the mouth of the Lord will designate. You will also be a ^crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, And a royal ^diadem in the hand of your God.”

She has some amazing plans for her future, and I know she wants to glorify God with those plans. Just like I held her in my arms 15 years ago and wondered who she would become, I can’t wait to see who this amazing girl will become whom God will continue to fashion and shape into a beautiful woman of God.

15. My job is almost over. Hard to believe. I just stand back and cheer right now. I pray. And I step in occasionally with a word of encouragement and advice.

You go girl, I am so proud of you.

Molly’s Favorite Things

Every year, Oprah does a show of her “Favorite Things.” From what I understand, tickets to this show are highly sought after, because she gives away all her favorite things to everyone in the audience. That is sort of the premise of this blog, only I’m much less interesting than Oprah, and I can’t give away all my favorite things to my blog readers, although I WISH I could. It’s the thought that counts, right? No. I don’t think so either. However, maybe these things will inspire you to make a change, or get a great idea. I trade ideas with my friends recommendations, so here are mine, for what little it’s worth:


Springhill Nursery: If you are a gardener like me, this, in my opinion is the best mail order nursery. Why? Because they have a lifetime guarantee on all their plants. I know, I’ve used it many times. Chances are, if you live up North where it’s freezing, you’re going to lose some plants, and Springhill will replace the plants you order from them, anytime, no questions asked! I’ve had plants die 3-4 years after I ordered them and I just pulled out my receipt, called Springhill and had either a replacement plant shipped right away, or my money refunded. Plus, they always have great coupons like, Buy $25, get $25 free. Visit www.springhillnursery.com


Swapstyle: Ok, this is my new “sister’s closet.” I just read about this one in a magazine. www.swapstyle.com is really a cool idea. It works sort of like eBay (which I also can not live without), but without any monetary transactions. Basically, you put pictures up on your page of stuff you want to get rid of (clothes, jewelry, bags, etc.) then if you find something you want of someone else’s you ask for a swap. If they like something on your page, you swap! You pay your shipping, they pay theirs. There are tokens you give each other which are like the eBay feedback ratings to keep people honest. So far I’ve swapped for a really nice pair of Ann Taylor Loft jeans and a DKNY sundress, among other things.


Make-up: A girl can’t live without her make-up. So. My favs: BareMinerals. Awesome, can’t say enough about it. I just switched over to BareMinerals and I am in love with it! It’s worth the initial price; just do it! L'Oreal Voluminous Mascara. Everyone who’s tried it loves it. Get the waterproof if you’re a crier like me! Maybelline Eyestudio eye shadow. They are a square container with a round duo of shadow. The complementing shades have a marbling effect, so it’s impossible to mess up your blending. At last! Perfect smoky eyes! I have about 6 different colors; I’m hooked.


Language of Hair: And while we’re on the subject of looking good, go see Amanda at Language of Hair on London Road. Seriously. She’s awesome. Love her to death! For those of you not in Duluth, bummer.

Wechter Guitars: I love my Wechter guitar. My friend had one, I played it, fell in love and immediately bought one too. For a girl with little hands, I was sold on the low action and the skinny neck. It's easy to play and has a gorgeous sound. And I got it in black. www.wechterguitars.com

Chester Creek Cafe/At Sarah’s Table: Again, for those of you not in Duluth, major bummer. My most favorite restaurant here in Duluth. On the corner of 19th Ave. E and 8th St. Organic and mostly local foods, they make the most amazing, good for you flavors. My current favorite is the Red Sea Fish Sandwich and their raspberry peach pie is out of this world! Anyone want to have lunch, I’m there!


Hannah Johnson Fabrics: Oh my! How did I miss this store for nearly 8 years!? I’m so glad my friends told me about this place and someone finally took me!!! My current favorite quilt store of all time. Located on Superior Street at 45th Ave. E.  She has very funky, modern fabrics, cool oilcloths, and tons of cute bag patterns. Check out her website at www.hannahjohnsonfabrics.com


The Food Network Panini Grill: After doing my research, I decided this was the best panini grill out there. I love paninis. Yum. This one is heavy duty, and has three interchangeable plates and lays flat so it can be a panini grill, a flat grill, a griddle and a waffle iron. And if you’re looking for good panini recipes, my sister got me 200 Best Panini Recipes by Tiffany Collins to go with it. My all time fav: A bagel, thinly sliced apples, bacon, cream cheese, brown sugar, and cheddar cheese. Oh my!


Giada de Laurentis Everyday Italian: All of Giada’s cookbooks are amazing. Her food is soooo good. And best of all, it’s not difficult to make. Usually most of the recipes are made with just a few simple ingredients and take 20 – 30 minutes. After making her marinara sauce several years ago, I’ve never used jarred sauce since.


Toyota Sienna: Of course, Oprah always ends by giving everyone, A NEW CAR!!! But, my Sienna isn’t new. The great thing about Siennas are that they keep their resale value better than most mini-vans. Which is also a bad thing if you are like us, and prefer to not make car payments. But, the other great thing about Siennas is that they are Toyota’s, which means they run forever, so once you scope out a good deal, you can do well with an older one. Open up the back of a Sienna (or Honda Odyssey) and you mini-van moms will be amazed by the cargo room. I love the captain’s chairs which keep my children separated and the split back seat I can fold down when I have oodles of groceries. But, in my opinion, the best thing about a Toyota? They pump the heat! And in Northern Minnesota, nothing beats a car that gets up to 80 degrees in 5 minutes when it’s –20 outside!

So, there’s my, not so complete, and very, very silly list. Feel free to add your own!

Crow For Breakfast

The other morning, I was planning a normal day. Get up. Get ready. Eat cereal. But, before I got really very far into my day I managed so very nicely to trip myself up. Open mouth, swallow foot whole. At that moment, I really didn’t feel like breakfast anymore. I just had this horrible feeling of nausea. Why in heaven’s name did I SAY that!?

The older I get, the better I get at thinking before I speak. Letting my words filter through my head and my heart and then just keep quiet. But, I’m not perfect by any means and sometimes, something so completely foolish just comes tripping off my tongue. I just want to either smack myself or let the earth open up and swallow me whole when that happens.

I know I’m not alone in this. Controlling our tongues is a universal problem.

James 3:8 says, “But no one can tame the tongue; it is a restless evil and full of ^deadly poison.”

In fact, earlier in this chapter James says that, “We all stumble in many ways. If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to bridle the whole body as well.”

Oh, how I long to be that person!

I’ve discovered, however, the best way to handle these moments is to immediately make it right with the person you’ve offended. This involves humbling yourself and asking for forgiveness, which is incredibly difficult sometimes, but the longer we put it off, the worse it gets.

So, this day, I realized, crow was on the menu for breakfast. Yuck. But, I plugged my nose and took a big enormous bite of that crow pie I had made for myself.

I resolved once again, with God’s help, to think before I speak and to let my words be words that bring healing and life. Sometimes, just being quiet is enough.

On the subject of being quiet, Proverbs 17:28 always makes me laugh:

“Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue.”

I think Abraham Lincoln summed it up best with these words, “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.”

The funny thing about this whole scenario was that the person I thought I had offended had no idea what I was talking about and thought the whole thing was hilarious!!! Nothing worse than crow pie when you didn’t even need to eat it! Oh well. I figured it was good practice and that God decided I needed to humble myself that day. I needed the reminder to make my words sweet always.

Crow is a dish best served warm. As soon as you know you’ve hurt someone, quickly go and make it right. The longer you wait, the more hurt, anger and resentment build up.

“If therefore you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, and go your way; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering.” Matthew 5:23,24

Crow tastes bitter on the tongue, but is pleasant to the stomach.

 

Through the Garden Gate - February

The ironic thing about looking through the garden gate this month is that I couldn’t actually go through my garden gate if I wanted to. Several feet of snow are mounded up in front of both gates. My raised beds are just slight elevations somewhere near the bottom of the garden, and my lilac bush is half buried.

My perennial beds are even worse. Because they are next to the sidewalk, we keep shoveling snow on top of them. Only the tops of a few tall bushes stick out of the snow right now that lines the pathway, past my knees. I wonder, every year about this time, will I ever see the blooms in my garden again? I’m getting a little tired of the same old color palate. Grey. White. Brown.

Here’s the deal though. Sometimes, something that seems bad, can actually be there for our protection. There have been a few years when the temperatures have been bitterly cold and the snow cover has been minimal. Those years, come spring, I discovered that I had lost nearly half of my plants. The most fragile and delicate perennials had frozen to death over the winter without the snow’s insulating cover. Who knew? Snow is warm!

The implications in my own life are obvious. I can not see the big picture of my life. There are so many times that I find myself in situations and circumstances that seem smotheringly painful. I wonder also if the joy-filled colors of spring in my life will ever break out again. Will I always feel like this? Grey. Brown. White.

One of my favorite verses in the Bible is Psalm 62:12 & 13:

“One thing God has spoken, two things have I heard: that you, O God, are strong, and that you, O Lord, are loving.”

When I don’t understand the circumstances of life, I trust my life and my circumstances to the One who is in control of them. I am able to trust God with all of these things, with my very life, because I trust His character. When you know and trust God, you are able to trust Him with the small things and the big, hard things as well.

I know God is strong. I know God is loving. I know God is good. I know God is in control.

I don’t need to know the rest.

Just as the garden doesn’t need to understand the snow that blankets it, but trust the gardener to bring it the right amount of protection, water, mulch, sun and warmth, so I can trust the Master Gardener in my life to bring me the same. Sun, rain, snow, even storms.

I’m in good hands. Strong hands. Loving hands.

Day Fifty – Rose Suede Pumps

(to be read, tongue firmly in cheek!)

So, what’s a girl to do when the most elegant, to die for pair of shoes are sitting, lost and alone on a store shelf; their dainty, pale pink color at odds with the harsh, black gladiator sandals around them?

What’s a girl to do when those shoes cry out for a home? A good home, a home that will love them?

What’s a girl to do when they are the only pair in her size?

What’s a girl to do when they are on sale for $4.99?

A girl does what a girl’s gotta do.

She gives those shoes a home with a simple $5 bill.  I know, it’s not much, but I do what I can to help those lonely shoes, just crying out on store shelves to be loved and cherished.

Day Forty-nine – Flowered Corduroy Pumps

I’m desperate for Spring. This is the time of deepest Winter when I start to go a little stir-crazy. I start getting seed catalogs in the mail and missing my flower garden and the warmth of summer on my skin. I miss how easy it is to run out the door. These days it takes 10 minutes to get ready to leave. Turtleneck, sweater, boots, scarf, down coat, hat, mittens, and I’m STILL freezing when I get in the car!

So, I start to wear bright colors in late January. A red sweater, a pink scarf, anything to get me through.

And flowers on my feet:

Actually these shoes work really well up here in the winter, slushy, slippery stuff, because the soles and the heels are rubber. I don’t slip, I’m up out of the muck, and I’m cute and stylish! What more can a girl ask for from a pair of shoes?

Through the Garden Gate – January

I love my garden. My mom often wonders aloud where I got my green thumb as she never gardened, but my aunt has always had a big garden and I remember loving to wander in her garden as a kid, so maybe it’s a latent Turner gene. Or perhaps it’s because we moved frequently when I was a child and I want a little piece of earth to dig up and call my own. Even as an adult I’ve moved several times, but you can always replant no matter where you go and see results pretty quickly. Now that we’ve put down some roots here in Duluth, nearly half my yard is taken over by my perennial gardens and a big vegetable garden, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is something Nathan and I love to do together during our oh-so-brief summers.

It’s only January and already I’ve gotten two seed catalogs in the mail. Oh the agony! I have visions of new roses for my garden and oh, I could put those cool primroses just right there! Alas, planting is at least 5 months away. But, there is the promise of spring, and I can dream.

Winter has a beauty all it’s own too as I look through my garden gate. In the last two days we’ve gotten about a foot and a half of fluffy new snow. It’s buried my garden and nearly my lilac bush and etched each branch on the trees and log on my garden fence in pristine white. It looks like a fairy world outside right now.

The freshly fallen snow, unmarred by footprints, or dirt yet, reminds me of some promises. Promises that though I am still imperfect and often a complete mess, God is making me whole.

“’Come now, and ^let us reason together,’ Says the Lord, ‘^Though your sins are as scarlet, They will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They will be like wool.’”

Isaiah 1:18

“Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. ^ Surely you desire truth in the inner parts^; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” Psalm 51:5-7

There is no doubt in my mind that I sin. I mess up and make mistakes every single day. I am so un-perfect. Yet, God is willing to forgive me time and time again and through His grace and mercy make me clean. That is what I think of when I see the freshly fallen snow. A fresh start. A new day. A chance to do it right today.

"There’s a better version of me, that I can’t quite see, but things are gonna change.

Right now I’m a total mess and right now I’m completely incomplete, but things are gonna change.

‘Cause You’re not through with me yet.

Wish I could live more patiently, wish I could give a little more of me, but I’m stopping to think twice.

Wish I had faith like a little child, wish I could walk a singe mile, without stepping on own feet.

But, You’re not through with me yet.

And this is redemption’s story, with every step that I’m taking.

Every day You’re chippin’ away what I don’t need.

And this is me under construction.

This is my pride being broken.

And every day I’m closer to who I’m meant to be.

I’m a change in the making.

Like a river rolls into the sea, I’m not who I’m gonna to be, but things are gonna change.

Moving closer, to Your glory.”

Change in the Making, by Addison Road

My Love Affair with Books

I read an article yesterday on the site of the Huffington Post regarding 20 things that have become obsolete in the past decade. Some of the items, like VCRs, I had to laugh and agree with, but one in particular caught my attention and horrified me. It was “bookstores.”

One of my favorite pastimes is getting a coffee and browsing through a bookstore. I love books. I love books as much as I love shoes. Yeah, that’s saying something, isn’t it? In fact, if I had to choose, I would choose books OVER shoes. I love books MORE than shoes. That’s really saying something. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t read books. Nathan laughs at my stacks and stacks of books saying I must be one of the only people with ridiculous stacks of books, but I secretly suspect there are others out there like me.



This bookshelf in the corner of my living room contains only our homeschooling books and my very favorite books. In other places I have other stacks of books I’m currently reading, want to read, and boxes of books I simply can’t part with.

In my opinion a book is not something you download and listen to on your MP3 player nor read on a fancy electronic device. A book has two covers and wonderful pages. A book has a feel to it, a weight, a heft and a delicious, unique smell all it’s own. There are certain books I own that it would be simply wrong to read in any other form than a REAL book.



This book is called, The Snuggle Bunny by Nancy Jewell. It’s out of print. My mom read it to my sister and I nearly every night growing up. She scoured the libraries and schools around Kansas City for copies that no one wanted anymore and finally found us each a copy. I read it now to my kids using the same voice inflections my mom did. Did you know the winter sun looks exactly like a hard boiled egg? It does. I always think of that, because of this book. Books conjure up wonderful imagery that stick with us forever.



Who is Paddy? by Elizabeth Cooper is also out of print. I first heard it when Daniel’s pre-school teacher read it to his class and I cried. I then scoured Amazon for it and found a copy. Paddy is compared to all kinds of animals that little boys often resemble; a pig because he is so dirty, a monkey because he is silly and eats bananas, a bear because he is grumpy in the morning, a turtle because he goes soooo s l o w l y up the stairs to bed, etc. This book exactly described my little boy and I loved it! The pictures are adorable. I love to read this book with Daniel all cuddled up by my side.



Folk Takes from the Far East is another book from my childhood. There are wonderfully, imaginative, magical stories in this book from India and the Far East. My mom found me a copy of this book a few years ago and I was so delighted to have it. It looks and feels and even smells exactly like the book my mom has, minus the green duct tape on the binding. My kids adore these stories as much as I did as a child.



Here is my battered, dog-eared, well-read copy of Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery. Truly, could you read Anne on a Kindle? I think not. ‘Nuff said.

Long live the book! Long live the bookstore! Long live the library! Long live the joys of a wonderful novel, a hot cup of tea and a cozy fire on a winter day!

My Favorite Cookbook

I love to cook. I come from a long line of fabulous cooks. My sister cooks to de-stress and she makes amazing meals. My mom is also a tremendous cook. By the time I was 12, she had me making our Friday night meal all by myself. Granted I started small; hot dog wraps and mac and cheese, but I eventually graduated to more difficult and intricate meals.

I’m also a messy cook. My mom is very neat, so she learned to just leave the kitchen when I cooked.

One of the best gifts I was given when I got married was my own recipe box filled with all of our best family recipes. My mom, grandma and I sat down for several afternoons and copied all the recipes from my mom’s recipe box that I wanted to take to my own home. This is very special to me now as I cook meals, to pull out a recipe written in my mom’s writing or my grandma’s, as my grandma is no longer living.

In the last few years I’ve started cooking from Giada deLaurentis’ cookbooks. I adore her Italian recipes. They are simple, but oh-so-delicious. I have two of them so far and my favorite recipe is for marinara sauce. It’s easy and quick and once I made it I have never gone back to spaghetti sauce in a bottle. You can see by the page in my cookbook that it has been used many times. There are olive oil and tomato sauce splatters all over it:

But, my favorite cookbook by far is an absolute mess. This is the cookbook I’ve created. It’s in a ratty, spiral notebook that is coming apart at the seams. Every time I find a recipe I like in a magazine or newspaper, I cut it out and tape it into this notebook. I’ve also photocopied recipes, but never gotten around to taping them in, and they are just stuffed randomly into this notebook. There is no rhyme or reason to this notebook/cookbook, it’s just jammed together. However, my most favorite and most often used recipes are in here; Fabulous Fajitas, Poppy Seed Dressing, Cranberry Chicken, Brownie Mocha Trifle.

Someday I want to organize this better, but for now, I know exactly where every recipe is in here. I would be lost without this mess of a cookbook.

Above my stove on a shelf are neatly organized, seldom used, beautiful cookbooks. But, this is my go-to nearly every night. Someone please tell me I’m not the only one with a cookbook like this.

The Beauty of Order – Part II

Earlier this year when I wrote my first blog post on the beauty of order, it was the end of summer, my kids were restless and I was just getting ready to start school.

http://thesahlbergs.blogspot.com/2010/08/beauty-of-order.html

At the end of that post I said something to the effect of, “I’ll check back in with you to see how it’s all going when we’re stuck in the house and the snow flies.”

Well, here we are. My how time, and the snow, flies. In two days our Christmas break will be over and we will start the second half of our school year. Only this time I’m not quite as anxious to get going.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still believe in order and the necessity of it in our lives, it’s just that I’m enjoying this break thoroughly! However, I’ve seen the beauty of order and the need for it in our lives displayed in some different ways this fall.

Have you ever stopped to think about the fact that you are reading this blog? You can read. In our world today 1 billion adults can not read. That’s 26% of the world’s population, and 2/3’s of those 1 billion people are women. Our languages are orderly. They may not always seem like it when we are learning them, but they have to be in order for us to set words down in sentences and then to read them coherently.

This has been brought to the forefront of my mind this fall as Daniel, my sweet baby, is struggling to read. For those of you who have spent time with Daniel, you know that he has always gotten easily overwhelmed. Bright lights, loud music, scratchy clothes. And for some reason, too many words on a page are just making, in his words, “my head stuffed up.” It’s very hard for me to see him read individual words just fine, but as they are put together in sentences and then grouped together on a page, he just freezes and can’t do it.

A good parent puts pride aside and is willing to admit when something is beyond their ability. I’ve talked to a lot of people who have given me some great ideas and I’ve tried everything I know to do, but in the end, it’s just not working for us. So, we’re looking for help from some experts in the schools. My prayer is that this teacher will be able to “unstuff” Daniel’s head and help figure out the riddle that will open a whole, new, wonderful world of language and books for him.

Did you know that God also created order in our homes? Our world doesn’t like this one. “Everyone’s equal!” they scream. Yes, it’s true, we’re all created equal in His image, but we’ve been given unique roles and when everyone plays those roles to the best of their abilities, the home functions in a beautiful manner. When those roles get flipped around, it’s chaotic.

Lately we’ve been talking to our children about this. Mom and Dad are here to bring order and discipline and teaching to the home, not because we have earned the right by being so amazing and great, but because God gave us this right as their parents. When our children choose to place themselves under our authority and not usurp our authority the home runs in a peaceful manner. We have open conversations, love, joy and peace. There is a place to run in conflict, joys and sorrows.

The same is true in our marriage. I have a wonderful husband who does an amazing job leading  our home. When I place myself under Nathan’s care and leadership and come alongside him to help him in this role the home runs beautifully. If I pridefully and disrespectfully take over his authority, it undermines everything we are trying to teach our children and the very foundation of our home.

Over all of this, we all place ourselves under God’s authority. The final word on everything is what He has asked us to do in His Word, the Bible. We obey Him, not because we are frightened, but because we love Him. As a loving Father, he has made beauty and order in this world for our protection and joy. I’m astounded over and over again, although I don’t know why I am, when we function according to the patterns He established, how much peace and joy there is in our spirits.  Conversely, stepping away from this pattern, brings chaos and discord almost instantly.

So, although a break is fun, a break is just temporary. It’s time to get back to business around here. Order is going to be very important this week as I’m going to have my 2 and 4 year-old niece and nephew with us this week. Laura’s going to start Geometry shortly and although I’ve been told there’s order in that I have yet to see it, so I’m hoping to discover it! Daniel is going to learn the order and beauty of the multiplication tables. Nate is GOING to learn the order that letters are arranged in in a word if it kills him; yes spelling is his Waterloo. And Laura is also going to get to see the beauty and order in God’s creation as she dissects some animals in Biology. There might be a few blogs about that one! And we’ll have a few field trips that break us out of our routine, because too much of a good thing is, well, too much!