Posts
- Harriet was sick this past week and that's something I want to avoid in the future. Even though I know that she is a child and will pick up all sorts of random germs, I still think that it will with worth the effort. I also feel as though I have been elevated to the next level of motherhood. Yeesh. A sick H = A cranky H = Nursing all day = Needing Mom all day. But I'm her mommy and that's what I'm for, right? Thankfully she is back to her spunky, smiley self.
- This whole sickness fiasco (the after-hours clinic on Sunday, the allergic reaction to the medication on Tuesday, the tracking down a local doctor on Wednesday) makes me realize how difficult and tiring it is to be in a new place figuring out New Things. If you're not in the know, you just don't know. Could I have told you that there was a family practice clinic in town? Nope. And no website told me that either. Thankfully I was able to get information from a couple at church about a good place to take H. I am grateful that the doctor was pleasant (despite the parenting lecture I received) and now we are "in" with somebody. Hopefully this will make the next illness less of an issue. (Wait. I'm avoiding illness.)
- I went clothes shopping yesterday. We desperately need to spruce up our wardrobe since most of our clothes have been worn for 5+ years and are showing signs of extreme wear and tear. They also make us look like we are in junior high (graphic tees and holey jeans, anyone?). I went to Kohl's and bought lots of jeans for Steve, some basic shirts for me, and several outfits for the HarriEd. I realized that I had never been shopping for her. She has a lot of clothes from friends and relations, but I had never picked any of them out. Our shopping venture yesterday opened another door in my love of dressing a little girl. So, so, so fun! The best outfit? A onesie with a girl-y daschund on it and a ruffly pink mini skirt. It kills me!
- I've been really, really, REALLY struggling with contentment here. And fighting off depression. Most days I feel like I'm swimming in a molasses swamp in every area of my life: house cleaning, life purpose, healthy eating, spiritual walk, marriage relationship, blah, blah, blah. It's hard to get up in the morning knowing that I'm facing another day of feeling hateful, then guilty, then depressed. To be quite honest, things aren't as peachy keen here as I imagined they would be. We don't really know what we're doing...and now it seems like we're being steered down another path and in a different direction. I don't know what it means and I can't make sense of it. Urgle. I feel horribly isolated and out of touch with the kind of life I want to live. So we continue to pray for clarity and patience and contentment. (And sometimes that gets old, too.)
- After that gut spill, I would also like to say that I am grateful for the Gs and that they are so generous with their time, washing machine, vehicles, listening ears, and support for us. I'm also grateful for friends and family (mostly the latter) who listen to my rants via telephone and continue to work through stuff with us.
- Steve is starting a temp job at a cabinet factory in addition to his Wally World job. This will give him consistent hours (!!) and better pay, and maybe maybe maybe he will be able to slip out of the Wal-Mart position. Or just work 12-16 hour days.
- I went to Zumba this morning (a regular class, not Zumba toning which I attend sometimes on Wednesday evening) and (shock!) had a good time. Not only did I feel welcomed, but I enjoyed the dynamics of the class. There were about 12 other ladies in the class and everyone was cheerful and enthusiastic. The class is taught by a husband/wife team which was really cool because she demonstrated the more dance-y moves while he did a more athletic technique. If I couldn't follow all of the elaborate hand motions, I just watched him. They were both really solid teachers and knew their material well, so I felt confident about following their lead. And it was real dancing - much closer to Jazzercise than some other classes I've attended.
- We were going to do something fun and refreshing out and about as a couple today since Steve works for the next 7 days in a row, but the weather is goopy. I guess that means we'll do something inside!
Friday, March 25, 2011
Random Friday Thoughts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Behind a frowning providence
It's been almost two weeks since I last wrote a post and a lot has happened. I've debated whether or not to blog about it because I don't want to be all sob-story. But it's an important life event that needs to be shared.
On February 17, we found out that we were pregnant with Rodgers baby #2. After the initial mental adjustment of Now I Have to Be Pregnant in a New Place, the rush of excited feelings descended. Harriet would have a sibling close to her age - hooray! But not too close - hooray again! As I braced myself for the morning sickness fiasco, I looked forward to the fun of making maternity clothes, signing up for week-by-week emails, choosing a name, and most importantly, having a new little person to adore.
The morning sickness never came. Aside from an overly sensitive nose and extreme exhaustion, I didn't feel badly at all. This is great, I thought. Maybe this baby will be a chill little creature and balance the dear HarriEd out a bit. After several weeks of trying to schedule an appointment with a midwife here in IL (to no avail, I might add), I decided to make an appointment with my doctor back in Nebraska during the week that I would be home. After everything checked out at that visit, I would announce our happy news to the world.
But sadly, that wasn't to be. The day after my arrival in Nebraska, I started spotting. This was the dreaded nightmare of my pregnancy with H, and now it was actually happening. Trying not to panic, I made an appointment for the next morning and then tried to reassure myself that some pregnancies with early bleeding turn out perfectly fine. I stayed up practically all night praying that this would be the case for our baby, but deep down I knew that it wasn't so. (In a way I felt as though I were ten-year-old-chubby-Amelia again praying for her kitten to be found...and knowing all the while that he was probably frozen out in the December snow.)
The ultrasound and my physical condition the next day revealed that a miscarriage had occurred. At first I felt very sad and disappointed. The baby had died. All of the hopes and plans were being destroyed. To make matters worse, Steve was still in Illinois and wouldn't be able to come for another week. While I was very glad to have the support of my family (and the help with Harriet) it was depressing to be going through a rather traumatic life experience without my husband.
Like I said earlier, I have argued with myself whether or not to share this rather personal experience. It feels weird to type it up like it's just some normal day in the life of Amelia, instead of the weird, surreal and saddening experience that it really was and continues to be. But there are some reasons for sharing that outweigh the weirdness:
I still do feel sad and disappointed at times, but we're really doing okay. Having the drama of a sick Harriet helps with that. :-) All of this has led me to really think about what it means to let God control your family size. He really does give children and take away children. Just because a couple chooses not to prevent pregnancy through birth control or NFP doesn't mean that they will have a baby every year. Some couples are blessed with many children close in age. Others struggle to conceive or deal with miscarriages or just with long spaces between each munchkin. God is truly the one in control.
I find it ironic that our miscarriage happened on the day of the earthquake in Japan. It was hard to think about an entire country getting crushed when my small little world was being shaken up. But a post from the Desiring God blog in response to the earthquake and tsunami also served as a personal encouragement to me. At the end of Piper's prayer was this statement:
O let them not judge you with feeble sense, but trust you for your grace. And so behind this providence, soon find a smiling face.
On February 17, we found out that we were pregnant with Rodgers baby #2. After the initial mental adjustment of Now I Have to Be Pregnant in a New Place, the rush of excited feelings descended. Harriet would have a sibling close to her age - hooray! But not too close - hooray again! As I braced myself for the morning sickness fiasco, I looked forward to the fun of making maternity clothes, signing up for week-by-week emails, choosing a name, and most importantly, having a new little person to adore.
The morning sickness never came. Aside from an overly sensitive nose and extreme exhaustion, I didn't feel badly at all. This is great, I thought. Maybe this baby will be a chill little creature and balance the dear HarriEd out a bit. After several weeks of trying to schedule an appointment with a midwife here in IL (to no avail, I might add), I decided to make an appointment with my doctor back in Nebraska during the week that I would be home. After everything checked out at that visit, I would announce our happy news to the world.
But sadly, that wasn't to be. The day after my arrival in Nebraska, I started spotting. This was the dreaded nightmare of my pregnancy with H, and now it was actually happening. Trying not to panic, I made an appointment for the next morning and then tried to reassure myself that some pregnancies with early bleeding turn out perfectly fine. I stayed up practically all night praying that this would be the case for our baby, but deep down I knew that it wasn't so. (In a way I felt as though I were ten-year-old-chubby-Amelia again praying for her kitten to be found...and knowing all the while that he was probably frozen out in the December snow.)
The ultrasound and my physical condition the next day revealed that a miscarriage had occurred. At first I felt very sad and disappointed. The baby had died. All of the hopes and plans were being destroyed. To make matters worse, Steve was still in Illinois and wouldn't be able to come for another week. While I was very glad to have the support of my family (and the help with Harriet) it was depressing to be going through a rather traumatic life experience without my husband.
Like I said earlier, I have argued with myself whether or not to share this rather personal experience. It feels weird to type it up like it's just some normal day in the life of Amelia, instead of the weird, surreal and saddening experience that it really was and continues to be. But there are some reasons for sharing that outweigh the weirdness:
- The miscarriage exemplifies God's provision and loving kindness. It happened in Nebraska where I had access to my doctor who know my medical history. It reduced the stress by a million percent to not have to figure out where to go or what to do back in IL. I had the tremendous support and comfort of not only my immediate family but my extended family as well. I had siblings and parents who were willing and eager to help with Harriet on the yuckier days. Those same siblings and parents provided a healthy distraction and external focus so that the clouds of depression didn't stay for long. Our substantial tax return came several weeks early so Steve was able to come to Nebraska just a day after the miscarriage. And I didn't have any prolonged physical difficulties. So in the midst of it all God is very good.
- I want to be real to the people around me - and that includes the relationships that this blog supplies. Being real means sharing the hard stuff as well as the jolly stuff. It's a stripping away of all of the Fake Amelia which so often dominates my relating to others. And honestly, I don't think I could be all hunky-dory on here without mentioning the miscarriage...because it effects how I feel and how I experience life.
- Our society deals with loss through miscarriage so poorly. I wanted to share because I believe that no matter how many weeks a baby lives, it is still a person with a soul who was once alive. Because of our culture's view of the sanctity of life, pregnancy (and miscarriage) becomes such a sterile and purely physical event. Our baby wasn't just a blighted ovum that failed to bury into the uterine wall. It was a baby...a person. Even though we never knew that baby in a real sense, we can still experience the loss of a life that was close to us. And while the grieving process may be different, it can still exist.
- I want to help others. Even though I hope that none of you will ever experience a miscarriage, I want you to know that if you do, I'm available. If you don't know what I've experienced, then you'll never know that I can be a listening and (hopefully) understanding ear.
I still do feel sad and disappointed at times, but we're really doing okay. Having the drama of a sick Harriet helps with that. :-) All of this has led me to really think about what it means to let God control your family size. He really does give children and take away children. Just because a couple chooses not to prevent pregnancy through birth control or NFP doesn't mean that they will have a baby every year. Some couples are blessed with many children close in age. Others struggle to conceive or deal with miscarriages or just with long spaces between each munchkin. God is truly the one in control.
I find it ironic that our miscarriage happened on the day of the earthquake in Japan. It was hard to think about an entire country getting crushed when my small little world was being shaken up. But a post from the Desiring God blog in response to the earthquake and tsunami also served as a personal encouragement to me. At the end of Piper's prayer was this statement:
O let them not judge you with feeble sense, but trust you for your grace. And so behind this providence, soon find a smiling face.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Harriet at Eight Months (Media Intensive)
(Wow, I've written 150 posts on this bloggie bloggie in its year-plus duration. Not too shabby!)
HarriEd will be eight months old on Wednesday. That, my friends, is old.
New Trick:
HarriEd figure out how to crawl in a most efficient way: she sits on one hip, sticks the other leg out to one side and then propels herself around the room. This half-crab-walk is quite ingenious because never has to get out of a sitting position. Once she arrives at the desired Small Choking Hazard she is already sitting up and ready to consume.
New Foods:
H has been trying lots of new foods lately including yogurt, carrots, apple-cranberry-turkey dinner, and sweet potato muffins. I have been attempting to sneak protein into her diet because her love of pears and oatmeal doesn't get her very far into the day before the sugar crash hits. (Thus the apple-cranberry-turkey dinner - which, quite frankly, grosses me out.) Thanks a very detailed book on making healthy baby food, I learned that it is now quite safe to include a mashed up egg yolk in H's meals. Brilliant! Or so I thought. Maybe it was the crankiness of the morning, or maybe she really doesn't like egg no matter how it is disguised behind sweet potatoes and oatmeal. But in any case, H stuck out her tongue and said, "Bleh."
New Toy:
The most brilliant discovery of the month occurred at the St. Louis Art Museum's gift shop when we happened upon Indestructibles. If you know HarriEd then you also know that she loves loves loves paper and she hates it when paper is removed from her clutches. Board books hold no charm when she can get her hands on a Real Book. (This is why I had some explaining to do when returning Redeeming Love to the library last week.) So we found Indestructibles, a brand of books created from some miracle fiber that feels like paper and tastes like paper and crinkles like paper BUT it doesn't rip, tear, or otherwise combust. The books are non-toxic and completely washable. And the simple colorful pictures of happy little farm animals are an added bonus.
New Word:
True to form, H's favorite word is Da-Da. Da-Da this, Da-Da that, Da-Da everything. When we are singing or talking or watching a movie, her goal seems to be to say Da-Da as loud as she possibly can and thus receive the desired attention from everyone around her. Her other word of choice is the word Hey, which either refers to herself or as a salutation.
New Person:
HarriEd was very glad to receive her aunt Eleanor as a visitor this week. (And I was very glad to receive sister Eleanor and her helpful spirit as well). They get along splendidly and spend many hours unloading the toy box. Eleanor possesses a knack for baby-watching and has no qualms about taking the screaming child and entertaining her. This is sometimes an absolute God-send.
New Clothes:
Thanks to a free afternoon and an agreeable spirit, Harriet received a new spring jacket courtesy of my sewing machine. The bright colors are so cheerful during these dreary last days of winter and, I must admit, she looks a-dorable. This is why having a little girl is the best thing ever!
Yep, that's pretty much HarriEd in a nutshell: adorable, irresistible, easily angered, inventive, demanding, charming, creative, delightful.
HarriEd will be eight months old on Wednesday. That, my friends, is old.
New Trick:
HarriEd figure out how to crawl in a most efficient way: she sits on one hip, sticks the other leg out to one side and then propels herself around the room. This half-crab-walk is quite ingenious because never has to get out of a sitting position. Once she arrives at the desired Small Choking Hazard she is already sitting up and ready to consume.
New Foods:
H has been trying lots of new foods lately including yogurt, carrots, apple-cranberry-turkey dinner, and sweet potato muffins. I have been attempting to sneak protein into her diet because her love of pears and oatmeal doesn't get her very far into the day before the sugar crash hits. (Thus the apple-cranberry-turkey dinner - which, quite frankly, grosses me out.) Thanks a very detailed book on making healthy baby food, I learned that it is now quite safe to include a mashed up egg yolk in H's meals. Brilliant! Or so I thought. Maybe it was the crankiness of the morning, or maybe she really doesn't like egg no matter how it is disguised behind sweet potatoes and oatmeal. But in any case, H stuck out her tongue and said, "Bleh."
New Toy:
The most brilliant discovery of the month occurred at the St. Louis Art Museum's gift shop when we happened upon Indestructibles. If you know HarriEd then you also know that she loves loves loves paper and she hates it when paper is removed from her clutches. Board books hold no charm when she can get her hands on a Real Book. (This is why I had some explaining to do when returning Redeeming Love to the library last week.) So we found Indestructibles, a brand of books created from some miracle fiber that feels like paper and tastes like paper and crinkles like paper BUT it doesn't rip, tear, or otherwise combust. The books are non-toxic and completely washable. And the simple colorful pictures of happy little farm animals are an added bonus.
New Word:
True to form, H's favorite word is Da-Da. Da-Da this, Da-Da that, Da-Da everything. When we are singing or talking or watching a movie, her goal seems to be to say Da-Da as loud as she possibly can and thus receive the desired attention from everyone around her. Her other word of choice is the word Hey, which either refers to herself or as a salutation.
New Person:
HarriEd was very glad to receive her aunt Eleanor as a visitor this week. (And I was very glad to receive sister Eleanor and her helpful spirit as well). They get along splendidly and spend many hours unloading the toy box. Eleanor possesses a knack for baby-watching and has no qualms about taking the screaming child and entertaining her. This is sometimes an absolute God-send.
New Clothes:
Thanks to a free afternoon and an agreeable spirit, Harriet received a new spring jacket courtesy of my sewing machine. The bright colors are so cheerful during these dreary last days of winter and, I must admit, she looks a-dorable. This is why having a little girl is the best thing ever!
Yep, that's pretty much HarriEd in a nutshell: adorable, irresistible, easily angered, inventive, demanding, charming, creative, delightful.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Up Early
I'm up before everybody else this morning. Steve has a late start at work, and Harriet seems content to snuggle up with him letting me sneak out of bed. I really really like sitting in the dark by myself. Sometimes I think about how many hours I spent alone, by choice. I would grab a book or my journal or my Bible and just go sit on my bed and get some serious space from the noisy chaos of life with the Heathens. It's a wondrous thing how God can slowly change me from needing that alone time to really being able to survive for a long while without it. It's a good thing, too, since HarriEd refuses to be left alone and neither does Steve, especially after a day at work.
Eleanor is here this week. Mom dropped her off in transit to Jacob's dog grooming competition in Atlanta. I truly believe that until women have children who are old enough to be a help and not a hindrance, a mother's helper is the way to go. Eleanor plays with H for hours (which is exactly what she wants), helps me with meals and cleaning up, and reminds me that there are other people in the world over the age of seven months. What will I do when she leaves? Go with her, of course! The plan is for me to hitch a ride back to Nebraska when the fambly drives back through here in a week. Then I'll be able to visit not only immediate family, but the extended family coming from Colorado and Texas. Hooray! Plus there's going to be Jazzercise again and Bunco and tea time with Kylie and just...people that I already know.
(But Steve will be all by his lonesome, which makes me feel sad. Ah, life.)
Be praying about Steve's work situation. He is only scheduled for 20 hours a week now, which at minimum wage (plus the 40-minute car drive each day) will most certainly not pay the bills. At all. It's frustrating because he is trying so hard to apply for all kinds of jobs, and absolutely no one is hiring him. Now he's filling out an application for a Christian school, and while that's the job he would love to have, it's hard to get our hopes up that they would hire a teacher who has minimal experience and, frankly, doesn't know anybody in the school district. Because apparently to get a decent job you have to a) have a degree that means something besides the ability to preach the Bible, and b) know somebody who can land you the desired job. Granted, the Wally World job is a job and it's giving us a slight boost in the financial department. Something else just needs to turn up, and rather quickly.
I'm absolutely loving my kitchen experiments with the Food Matters Cookbook. Love, love, love that cookbook. I've made three dishes from it so far and they have all been inexpensive, healthy, simple to prepare, and beyond delicious. The emphasis on fresh vegetables giving the meals bulk is brilliant because we can have something fun and filling without going broke. And the combination of flavors is incredible. So far I've only made skillet dishes and a soup, but I want to try some of his bread and muffin recipes today. Eee! I simply must buy this cookbook, especially since I now have access to an Aldi (!!!) which seems to keep fresh veggies and fruits in stock at ri-doink-ulously low prices. I seriously get all giddy in that store. It's so exciting to get everything I need to make healthy and tasty food for $25 UNDER my grocery budget. It's the most cheerful thing.
Maybe I should eat before the masses arise. And read my Bible. Have a splendid day, everyone!
Eleanor is here this week. Mom dropped her off in transit to Jacob's dog grooming competition in Atlanta. I truly believe that until women have children who are old enough to be a help and not a hindrance, a mother's helper is the way to go. Eleanor plays with H for hours (which is exactly what she wants), helps me with meals and cleaning up, and reminds me that there are other people in the world over the age of seven months. What will I do when she leaves? Go with her, of course! The plan is for me to hitch a ride back to Nebraska when the fambly drives back through here in a week. Then I'll be able to visit not only immediate family, but the extended family coming from Colorado and Texas. Hooray! Plus there's going to be Jazzercise again and Bunco and tea time with Kylie and just...people that I already know.
(But Steve will be all by his lonesome, which makes me feel sad. Ah, life.)
Be praying about Steve's work situation. He is only scheduled for 20 hours a week now, which at minimum wage (plus the 40-minute car drive each day) will most certainly not pay the bills. At all. It's frustrating because he is trying so hard to apply for all kinds of jobs, and absolutely no one is hiring him. Now he's filling out an application for a Christian school, and while that's the job he would love to have, it's hard to get our hopes up that they would hire a teacher who has minimal experience and, frankly, doesn't know anybody in the school district. Because apparently to get a decent job you have to a) have a degree that means something besides the ability to preach the Bible, and b) know somebody who can land you the desired job. Granted, the Wally World job is a job and it's giving us a slight boost in the financial department. Something else just needs to turn up, and rather quickly.
I'm absolutely loving my kitchen experiments with the Food Matters Cookbook. Love, love, love that cookbook. I've made three dishes from it so far and they have all been inexpensive, healthy, simple to prepare, and beyond delicious. The emphasis on fresh vegetables giving the meals bulk is brilliant because we can have something fun and filling without going broke. And the combination of flavors is incredible. So far I've only made skillet dishes and a soup, but I want to try some of his bread and muffin recipes today. Eee! I simply must buy this cookbook, especially since I now have access to an Aldi (!!!) which seems to keep fresh veggies and fruits in stock at ri-doink-ulously low prices. I seriously get all giddy in that store. It's so exciting to get everything I need to make healthy and tasty food for $25 UNDER my grocery budget. It's the most cheerful thing.
Maybe I should eat before the masses arise. And read my Bible. Have a splendid day, everyone!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Books for February: When A Nation Forgets God and Redeeming Love
One of my goals is to read at least one book each month. I overachieved this month and read two books, and here is what I think of them.
When A Nation Forgets God by Erwin Lutzer
This is a short but well-written book discussing the similarities between the political environment of Nazi Germany and the current political and social environment of the United States. In concise chapters, Lutzer discusses what happens when a nation silences the church, lets the economy rule, allows the media to control beliefs, and other issues that led to the demise of Germany and, apparently, are also present in our current society.
Thoughts:
This book was very manageable and readable (great for me who rarely has time to just sit down and read for hours on end) and yet it really got me thinking. Plus, I learned many things about Nazi Germany that hadn't "clicked" with me before. And, I also appreciated the matter-of-fact tone and avoidance of sensationalism or conspiracy theory. While Luzter is not afraid to discuss the similarities between Nazi Germany and the United States, he doesn't assume that the US is necessarily doomed to the same fate. The purpose is not to frighten people into fatalism but to inspire boldness and courage to stand for the truth of the gospel - while we still have the freedom to do so.
Recommended? Yes! In fact, I want to read his other book, Hitler's Cross, to continue to learn about the role of the church during this dark period of history.
Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers
In this re-telling of the biblical account of Hosea, the prostitute Angel finds unconditional love and, ultimately, faith in God, through the obedience of her faithful new husband Michael. Set in the somewhat-mythical "Old West" of Northern California, Rivers paints a vivid picture of God's redeeming love towards the lost.
Thoughts: Let me just say that I am not a fan of Christian fiction. But I started reading this book at the G's house and had a hard time putting it down. Could it be possible that Francine Rivers is actually, you know, a good Christian author? So I humbled myself and checked it out from the library and spent the next few weeks reading.
At first, Rivers takes the very difficult subject of prostitution and handles it quite tastefully. I was shocked that something of such "adult content" could actually be written about in a way that didn't make me stop reading. The book had interesting characters, the intentional parallels between the story and the book of Hosea were insightful, and the predominant "Old West" feel didn't seem to dictate too much of the story. At first. Then Rivers took it into her head to write about 200 pages too many and, in my opinion, the story flopped. The characters became boring, the scandalous scenes became more graphic and disturbing, and by the end I felt as though I had just finished watching some odd combination of Christy, Dr Quinn, and Little House on the Prairie...all with an R rating. I'm not sure how closely Rivers wanted to follow the story of Hosea, but I do think that there was a major discrepancy which needs to be noted: in the story, Angel is repeatedly touted as a victim of her past and the adults who destroyed her. In the Bible, God uses the prostitute in Hosea as a picture of Israel - who was so totally and definitely not a victim but played the harlot after other gods by her own choice.
Recommended? Probably not. The book has potential, but I don't think I could say, "You've got to read this."
Here comes March with more books in store. I already have a new cookbook waiting at the library. Does that count?
When A Nation Forgets God by Erwin Lutzer
This is a short but well-written book discussing the similarities between the political environment of Nazi Germany and the current political and social environment of the United States. In concise chapters, Lutzer discusses what happens when a nation silences the church, lets the economy rule, allows the media to control beliefs, and other issues that led to the demise of Germany and, apparently, are also present in our current society.
Thoughts:
This book was very manageable and readable (great for me who rarely has time to just sit down and read for hours on end) and yet it really got me thinking. Plus, I learned many things about Nazi Germany that hadn't "clicked" with me before. And, I also appreciated the matter-of-fact tone and avoidance of sensationalism or conspiracy theory. While Luzter is not afraid to discuss the similarities between Nazi Germany and the United States, he doesn't assume that the US is necessarily doomed to the same fate. The purpose is not to frighten people into fatalism but to inspire boldness and courage to stand for the truth of the gospel - while we still have the freedom to do so.
Recommended? Yes! In fact, I want to read his other book, Hitler's Cross, to continue to learn about the role of the church during this dark period of history.
Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers
In this re-telling of the biblical account of Hosea, the prostitute Angel finds unconditional love and, ultimately, faith in God, through the obedience of her faithful new husband Michael. Set in the somewhat-mythical "Old West" of Northern California, Rivers paints a vivid picture of God's redeeming love towards the lost.
Thoughts: Let me just say that I am not a fan of Christian fiction. But I started reading this book at the G's house and had a hard time putting it down. Could it be possible that Francine Rivers is actually, you know, a good Christian author? So I humbled myself and checked it out from the library and spent the next few weeks reading.
At first, Rivers takes the very difficult subject of prostitution and handles it quite tastefully. I was shocked that something of such "adult content" could actually be written about in a way that didn't make me stop reading. The book had interesting characters, the intentional parallels between the story and the book of Hosea were insightful, and the predominant "Old West" feel didn't seem to dictate too much of the story. At first. Then Rivers took it into her head to write about 200 pages too many and, in my opinion, the story flopped. The characters became boring, the scandalous scenes became more graphic and disturbing, and by the end I felt as though I had just finished watching some odd combination of Christy, Dr Quinn, and Little House on the Prairie...all with an R rating. I'm not sure how closely Rivers wanted to follow the story of Hosea, but I do think that there was a major discrepancy which needs to be noted: in the story, Angel is repeatedly touted as a victim of her past and the adults who destroyed her. In the Bible, God uses the prostitute in Hosea as a picture of Israel - who was so totally and definitely not a victim but played the harlot after other gods by her own choice.
Recommended? Probably not. The book has potential, but I don't think I could say, "You've got to read this."
Here comes March with more books in store. I already have a new cookbook waiting at the library. Does that count?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
How We Got Engaged
Note: This is very long. But just humor me, okay?
Two years ago today I was very, very tired because I had stayed up into the wee sma's getting engaged to Stephen P.
(Today I am very tired for a rather different reason, but suffice to say that it has something to do with the resident Inexhastible [she must have read OMF in the womb] and her assumption that she is exempt from sleeping for any length of time whatsoever.)
But anyways, two years ago (such a long time!) was the momentous day...er, night. The story, for those of you who haven't heard it, or who need a refresher, goes something like this:
I suppose I should start at the very beginning. Steve and I met at an alumni banquet at Cornerstone Bible Institute. He was part of the visiting alumni and I was running around as a student doing various things to help pull the banquet off. We chatted briefly and I, in a regular huff about Young Men in General, decided that I really didn't care two beans if this guy was talking to me. I was sick of trying to pretend to be somebody I wasn't, so I just laid out all of my interests/dreams/beliefs in a matter of about 10 minutes and thought, Well, buddy, take it or leave it.
He took it.
Steve went back to Modesto, CA, and I went back to Nebraska. We spent the summer sending epic-length Facebook messages, chatting until ungodly hours of the night, and generally getting more "in like." I went back to school in Hot Springs and Steve went to finish his bachelor's degree at Calvary Bible College in Kansas City. (Little did I know that part of the reason for choosing said college was because he would only be twelve hours away from me instead of twenty-four.) He came up to visit me at school in October and we proceeded to be horrifically awkward around each other and not talk for a few days. That was retarded and tear-inducing ("I knew he was a jerk!" I kept saying to myself.) But then we got over that stupidity and had a loverly 2+ hour talk about how we wanted to get to know each other better.
And we did.
We started talking on the phone and after each conversation was cut off at the blasted curfew of 10pm, I would lay in bed for hours freaking out about how much I loved him and how horrible it would be if he dumped me. He came to my house for Thanksgiving and survived my family. I banged my head on the bathroom wall every night after our discussions because I knew that I couldn't live without this guy. I went to California for New Years and survived his family. (And the beach. If I couldn't marry into property, at least I could marry for location, right?) We became "official" at Denny's at 3am while eating some horrendous potachos dish which I had to pay for with my last $8. We went back to his house mutually elated (whilst our stomachs waged war against the potachos).
We texted.
Yes, I started texting because of Steve. I became very adept at it in a very short amount of time. And we were always grammatically correct in our messages, which thrilled me to no end. We texted all day and all night and got very little sleep or homework done. In February, we texted about Steve making a quick trip up to my house for a long weekend. He was rehearsing for the role of Frank Butler in the college production of Annie Get Your Gun, but he could leave after rehearsals on Friday night and then we would have all of Saturday and most of Sunday together. Brilliant plan!
Then things got interesting.
On the long anticipated weekend of great joy, my dear mother had to have an unexpected minor surgery. Clara and I went home a day early to help out with the Heathen, and it was a good thing, too, since the minor surgery turned into a major issue which sent Mom to death's doorstep and back. So with Mom and Dad at the hospital dealing with that trauma and me holding down the homefront with the kids, here came Steve with his long-time buddy Justin to spend the weekend. And it was not the chillaxing time that we were anticipating.
On Saturday morning, Steve and I went to visit the parents at the hospital and go grocery shopping and escape the general chaos at home. (Side note: While I was driving along, Steve said, "Can you drive with just your left hand?" I said, "Well, of course I can!" And then he grabbed my right hand and held it for the first time and I almost rear-ended the car in front of us in my shock. The end.) While we were at the hospital (and unbeknownst to me), my dad cornered Steve in the hallway and told him that he and my mom totally trusted him and that he could do whatever with me. Meaning that he had permission to propose. Or something like that. We went back to my house, prepared a huge dinner for the fambly and friends who had been invited over, and kept small children from killing each other or Justin.
Was I stressed out? Absolutely. My mother had almost died. The heathen were out of control. And I was totally falling apart in front of the guy I wanted the most to impress. It was a horrible evening, during which I spent a quantity of time hiding in the bathroom crying. The heathen didn't go to bed until after 11pm and Justin was snoring in the recliner. Steve and I were sitting on the couch, staring at absolutely nothing after the insanity of the day. I felt exhausted and overwhelmed and like a complete failure of a girlfriend.
Then he said, "Let's go outside."
Now, folks, let me remind you that this was February 22. It was cold. There was frost on the front deck. But I said, "Sure," and quickly bundled up. We stood out on the deck, shivering and looking at the stars and talking for a while. And Steve said, "You know, I just think we should get married." And I said, "Okay."
Thus, we got engaged. That was it. We spent another good two hours outside in the blessed stillness of the early morning, snuggling up on the porch swing to keep each other warm and talking. It was splendid and I was too happy to really comprehend what was going on. I wanted to stay up all night and never stop being with each other. The next day (or rather, later that morning) was church, but we went to the hospital to talk to Mom and Dad while Clara, Justin, and the heathen did the spiritual thing. So with Mom looking rather green and hooked up to various and sundry wires, we made a list on the hospital white board of pros and cons of wedding dates. We decided we just couldn't wait a whole year and wanted to get married that coming July - on my parents' anniversary.
Steve said, "So, do you want a ring?" I always thought that gaudy engagement rings were not my type, plus Steve didn't have any money whatsoever (I had to buy our lunch again). But I did want something to show that I was engaged, so we went to Alco and bought one of those silly $10 fake diamond rings. It was pink and the fake metal turned my finger green. But I wore it very happily for the next five months.
There you have it - the extended tale of our engagement. It still makes me laugh and feel all giddy again to think about it. I knew that we were right for each other when we got engaged, but little did I know how perfect we are for each other. I can't imagine life without Steve and I'm so blessed to be his wife.
End sappiness.
Two years ago today I was very, very tired because I had stayed up into the wee sma's getting engaged to Stephen P.
(Today I am very tired for a rather different reason, but suffice to say that it has something to do with the resident Inexhastible [she must have read OMF in the womb] and her assumption that she is exempt from sleeping for any length of time whatsoever.)
But anyways, two years ago (such a long time!) was the momentous day...er, night. The story, for those of you who haven't heard it, or who need a refresher, goes something like this:
I suppose I should start at the very beginning. Steve and I met at an alumni banquet at Cornerstone Bible Institute. He was part of the visiting alumni and I was running around as a student doing various things to help pull the banquet off. We chatted briefly and I, in a regular huff about Young Men in General, decided that I really didn't care two beans if this guy was talking to me. I was sick of trying to pretend to be somebody I wasn't, so I just laid out all of my interests/dreams/beliefs in a matter of about 10 minutes and thought, Well, buddy, take it or leave it.
He took it.
Steve went back to Modesto, CA, and I went back to Nebraska. We spent the summer sending epic-length Facebook messages, chatting until ungodly hours of the night, and generally getting more "in like." I went back to school in Hot Springs and Steve went to finish his bachelor's degree at Calvary Bible College in Kansas City. (Little did I know that part of the reason for choosing said college was because he would only be twelve hours away from me instead of twenty-four.) He came up to visit me at school in October and we proceeded to be horrifically awkward around each other and not talk for a few days. That was retarded and tear-inducing ("I knew he was a jerk!" I kept saying to myself.) But then we got over that stupidity and had a loverly 2+ hour talk about how we wanted to get to know each other better.
And we did.
We started talking on the phone and after each conversation was cut off at the blasted curfew of 10pm, I would lay in bed for hours freaking out about how much I loved him and how horrible it would be if he dumped me. He came to my house for Thanksgiving and survived my family. I banged my head on the bathroom wall every night after our discussions because I knew that I couldn't live without this guy. I went to California for New Years and survived his family. (And the beach. If I couldn't marry into property, at least I could marry for location, right?) We became "official" at Denny's at 3am while eating some horrendous potachos dish which I had to pay for with my last $8. We went back to his house mutually elated (whilst our stomachs waged war against the potachos).
We texted.
Yes, I started texting because of Steve. I became very adept at it in a very short amount of time. And we were always grammatically correct in our messages, which thrilled me to no end. We texted all day and all night and got very little sleep or homework done. In February, we texted about Steve making a quick trip up to my house for a long weekend. He was rehearsing for the role of Frank Butler in the college production of Annie Get Your Gun, but he could leave after rehearsals on Friday night and then we would have all of Saturday and most of Sunday together. Brilliant plan!
Then things got interesting.
On the long anticipated weekend of great joy, my dear mother had to have an unexpected minor surgery. Clara and I went home a day early to help out with the Heathen, and it was a good thing, too, since the minor surgery turned into a major issue which sent Mom to death's doorstep and back. So with Mom and Dad at the hospital dealing with that trauma and me holding down the homefront with the kids, here came Steve with his long-time buddy Justin to spend the weekend. And it was not the chillaxing time that we were anticipating.
On Saturday morning, Steve and I went to visit the parents at the hospital and go grocery shopping and escape the general chaos at home. (Side note: While I was driving along, Steve said, "Can you drive with just your left hand?" I said, "Well, of course I can!" And then he grabbed my right hand and held it for the first time and I almost rear-ended the car in front of us in my shock. The end.) While we were at the hospital (and unbeknownst to me), my dad cornered Steve in the hallway and told him that he and my mom totally trusted him and that he could do whatever with me. Meaning that he had permission to propose. Or something like that. We went back to my house, prepared a huge dinner for the fambly and friends who had been invited over, and kept small children from killing each other or Justin.
Was I stressed out? Absolutely. My mother had almost died. The heathen were out of control. And I was totally falling apart in front of the guy I wanted the most to impress. It was a horrible evening, during which I spent a quantity of time hiding in the bathroom crying. The heathen didn't go to bed until after 11pm and Justin was snoring in the recliner. Steve and I were sitting on the couch, staring at absolutely nothing after the insanity of the day. I felt exhausted and overwhelmed and like a complete failure of a girlfriend.
Then he said, "Let's go outside."
Now, folks, let me remind you that this was February 22. It was cold. There was frost on the front deck. But I said, "Sure," and quickly bundled up. We stood out on the deck, shivering and looking at the stars and talking for a while. And Steve said, "You know, I just think we should get married." And I said, "Okay."
Thus, we got engaged. That was it. We spent another good two hours outside in the blessed stillness of the early morning, snuggling up on the porch swing to keep each other warm and talking. It was splendid and I was too happy to really comprehend what was going on. I wanted to stay up all night and never stop being with each other. The next day (or rather, later that morning) was church, but we went to the hospital to talk to Mom and Dad while Clara, Justin, and the heathen did the spiritual thing. So with Mom looking rather green and hooked up to various and sundry wires, we made a list on the hospital white board of pros and cons of wedding dates. We decided we just couldn't wait a whole year and wanted to get married that coming July - on my parents' anniversary.
Steve said, "So, do you want a ring?" I always thought that gaudy engagement rings were not my type, plus Steve didn't have any money whatsoever (I had to buy our lunch again). But I did want something to show that I was engaged, so we went to Alco and bought one of those silly $10 fake diamond rings. It was pink and the fake metal turned my finger green. But I wore it very happily for the next five months.
There you have it - the extended tale of our engagement. It still makes me laugh and feel all giddy again to think about it. I knew that we were right for each other when we got engaged, but little did I know how perfect we are for each other. I can't imagine life without Steve and I'm so blessed to be his wife.
End sappiness.
Monday, February 21, 2011
About a HarriEd (with videos)
Here is a post all about HarriEd. This is for the grandmothers, the aunts and uncles, the surrogate aunts and uncles, and any of H's other fans. It is also for my memory, which seems to be fading since I kept telling Harriet that I was making pears for her when it was very obviously a bunch of peaches that were simmering away in the Le Creuset saucepan. I'm pretty sure that she has nursed the brain cells right out of me...which makes her a smart little stinker, that's for sure.
What has HarriEd been up to lately? Our days generally go something like this.
Get up: H gets up around seven each morning and is unusually perky and smiling for about fifteen minutes. If her mommy and daddy prefer to not be perky and smiley and, instead, snuggle up with one another, this fifteen minutes is shortened significantly and H gets grouchy. She then gets changed and dressed and ready for the day. Harriet plays in her exersaucer while I make breakfast.
Eat breakfast: She has been eating. a. lot. of. food. I made some homemade baby oatmeal for her (super easy and cheap) and when it is cleverly disguised behind pears or peaches, she will eat it without a second thought. I always think, "Oh, I accidentally made too much," and almost without fail she proceeds to gobble up the entire bowl-full.
Play: It becomes obvious as to why H has to eat so much when she starts to get down and dirty with her toys. Harriet has a box of toys which are Safe for Infants and she usually spends a good chunk of her day sorting through them for little things that are Not Safe for Infants. Usually she will give up the search and content herself with trying to pull the tags off of stuffed animals. Yesterday we had a little game going in which she held up the plastic lid from the baby food container and I made her stuffed sheep toy butt into it. This was apparently the most hilarious thing that had ever happened. She also really likes to look at books and, even more so, chew on the pages.
Nap: Harriet often takes her morning nap in the Sleepy Wrap because, frankly, I still have things to do and it's just easier to have her nap whilst I unload the dishwasher or fold clothes or do my Bible study, and so on. Her morning nap is still her longest and most consistent nap and usually lasts over an hour.
Eat lunch: After waking up and getting acclimated to the world again, H gives another solid go at an early lunch of sweet potatoes or more oatmeal and pears. Then she keeps herself occupied in the highchair while I eat my lunch.
Backpack time: Sometimes Harriet likes to play after lunch, but often she ends up riding around in the backpack while I work on sewing projects. This is a Very Happy Time since she gets to be intimately involved with whatever mommy is doing, and she can pull mommy's hair and chew on her necklace, and she is riding around higher up than everybody else. Except for her daddy.
Nap: For the afternoon nap, H nurses to sleep on our bed, and then I either sneak away or lie next to her and read. Depending on how much sleep I got the previous night, I will sometimes sneak a little nap in, too. Harriet will sleep by herself in bed for 45 minutes exactly. Then she will wake up completely (none of that half-awake stuff for her) and have to be quickly made to go back to sleep. If I "catch" her before she is sitting up and ready to go, I can usually nurse her back to sleep for another half hour or so. It just depends.
Play/Backpack/Snack: See above.
Play with Daddy: By the end of the afternoon, Harriet is tired of playing and shows this by clinging desperately to her mommy and wanting to nurse continuously. This is when her mommy nurses her and then hands her off to her daddy. And Harriet doesn't see her mommy for about an hour (hooray for the wellness center!) and realizes that life is perfectly fine (even fun) with daddy.
Dinner/Bath/Bed: Harriet usually hangs out with us while we eat dinner. Sometimes she takes a bath after we eat and on other days she just gets her pajamers on. Then she amuses herself with us for the remainder of the evening, usually telling us stories and making us laugh with her silly expressions. Since our floors are all hardwood, Harriet tends to slide around on them rather than scoot. She can go from being on her stomach to sitting up to being back on her stomach again with great dexterity and skill. Thus she manages to get where she wants to be. She still pulls herself up whenever the opportunity comes her way.
Then she goes to bed, all snuggled up with us, and I pray that she will sleep longer than an hour before waking up. That's one thing that we are going to start taking drastic measures about: Harriet does not need to nurse all night long. And her mommy has got to get some sleep. But that's another story for another day.
We love Harriet so much and can't imagine life without her. As she continues to grow and develop she gets to be more and more fun of a person to be around. She's a curious, delightful, sensitive, darling little person who is growing up awfully fast.
What has HarriEd been up to lately? Our days generally go something like this.
Get up: H gets up around seven each morning and is unusually perky and smiling for about fifteen minutes. If her mommy and daddy prefer to not be perky and smiley and, instead, snuggle up with one another, this fifteen minutes is shortened significantly and H gets grouchy. She then gets changed and dressed and ready for the day. Harriet plays in her exersaucer while I make breakfast.
Eat breakfast: She has been eating. a. lot. of. food. I made some homemade baby oatmeal for her (super easy and cheap) and when it is cleverly disguised behind pears or peaches, she will eat it without a second thought. I always think, "Oh, I accidentally made too much," and almost without fail she proceeds to gobble up the entire bowl-full.
Play: It becomes obvious as to why H has to eat so much when she starts to get down and dirty with her toys. Harriet has a box of toys which are Safe for Infants and she usually spends a good chunk of her day sorting through them for little things that are Not Safe for Infants. Usually she will give up the search and content herself with trying to pull the tags off of stuffed animals. Yesterday we had a little game going in which she held up the plastic lid from the baby food container and I made her stuffed sheep toy butt into it. This was apparently the most hilarious thing that had ever happened. She also really likes to look at books and, even more so, chew on the pages.
Nap: Harriet often takes her morning nap in the Sleepy Wrap because, frankly, I still have things to do and it's just easier to have her nap whilst I unload the dishwasher or fold clothes or do my Bible study, and so on. Her morning nap is still her longest and most consistent nap and usually lasts over an hour.
Eat lunch: After waking up and getting acclimated to the world again, H gives another solid go at an early lunch of sweet potatoes or more oatmeal and pears. Then she keeps herself occupied in the highchair while I eat my lunch.
Backpack time: Sometimes Harriet likes to play after lunch, but often she ends up riding around in the backpack while I work on sewing projects. This is a Very Happy Time since she gets to be intimately involved with whatever mommy is doing, and she can pull mommy's hair and chew on her necklace, and she is riding around higher up than everybody else. Except for her daddy.
Nap: For the afternoon nap, H nurses to sleep on our bed, and then I either sneak away or lie next to her and read. Depending on how much sleep I got the previous night, I will sometimes sneak a little nap in, too. Harriet will sleep by herself in bed for 45 minutes exactly. Then she will wake up completely (none of that half-awake stuff for her) and have to be quickly made to go back to sleep. If I "catch" her before she is sitting up and ready to go, I can usually nurse her back to sleep for another half hour or so. It just depends.
Play/Backpack/Snack: See above.
Play with Daddy: By the end of the afternoon, Harriet is tired of playing and shows this by clinging desperately to her mommy and wanting to nurse continuously. This is when her mommy nurses her and then hands her off to her daddy. And Harriet doesn't see her mommy for about an hour (hooray for the wellness center!) and realizes that life is perfectly fine (even fun) with daddy.
Dinner/Bath/Bed: Harriet usually hangs out with us while we eat dinner. Sometimes she takes a bath after we eat and on other days she just gets her pajamers on. Then she amuses herself with us for the remainder of the evening, usually telling us stories and making us laugh with her silly expressions. Since our floors are all hardwood, Harriet tends to slide around on them rather than scoot. She can go from being on her stomach to sitting up to being back on her stomach again with great dexterity and skill. Thus she manages to get where she wants to be. She still pulls herself up whenever the opportunity comes her way.
Then she goes to bed, all snuggled up with us, and I pray that she will sleep longer than an hour before waking up. That's one thing that we are going to start taking drastic measures about: Harriet does not need to nurse all night long. And her mommy has got to get some sleep. But that's another story for another day.
We love Harriet so much and can't imagine life without her. As she continues to grow and develop she gets to be more and more fun of a person to be around. She's a curious, delightful, sensitive, darling little person who is growing up awfully fast.
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