the fear drizzle

fear. anxiety.

drizzling down into my heart. all day, before i open my eyes. as my mind turns from dream to consciousness, the mist begins. and remains as i walk the rooms, change the diapers, run the errands. a constant small (sometimes not so small) fear. and it captures me. captures my moments- steals my joy and runs off with any confidence i had in the Truth. i can't find my feet and can't get my head to any rational place.

i know most people struggle with anxiety and worry from time to time. but this past month and a half it has consumed more of my days than not. we each have our fear-temptations. and after the early death of a friend and my brief experience of being whisked into a hospital for things i didn't understand during pregnancy-- my current fear surrounds my health. the fragile nature of my body and all the looming tragedies that lie in wait.

BUT

my Lord Jesus has been merciful and kind to me. He has been teaching me and molding me through a menial, lingering stomach bug. telling me He's present. He is the only answer. I have to follow Him. He's the only hope i have. He's all i've got.

soon

i feel full of words and have no time, it seems to write them down. or maybe i'm a little afraid of sitting and seeing what comes onto the screen. too timid to look, really look, into this heart of mine and the turmoil that feels bubbling at the bottom.

i'm going to try soon.

another season

it was a merry Christmas indeed. hope yours was. ours was filled with nice quiet, good laughter and delicious food.

family was here and we partook of the joy of the season together.

we watched babies and laughed. we labored over hot stoves and sank into couches together with kleenex and tea. yup. sick again. some sort of cold this time. and again we passed it on to our family. uh huh. that's how we roll over here. jump into our sticky lives and bear it all with us.

but the babies and their delight in simple joyful things were intoxicating.

the pictures of the big day weren't the best because it was rainy and dark all day. but-- we got snow.

oh the happiness. Christmas was complete.

ah snowballs and snowforts. making tracks in the snow and tasting those delicious white crystals. childhood.

and here comes another monday. the end of christmas always feels so strange. abrupt, but appropriate. i felt ready to see my tree skirt again, covered in pine needles now and a stray ripped-off gift tag. it's nice to whittle down the sugar-filled things in the kitchen and start to see the light of a new year approaching. a strange week, though. of half-holiday, half-normalcy and more expectation.

lots on my mind as we begin looking ahead at new things and more change. remembering last year's celebrations, i know i never could have guessed at what 2010 held in store for us.

more remembering to come, inevitably. hope your week of winding down and up again is filled with joy and peace. i'm going to strive for the same.

the week

it's the week it all happens. not-enough-things get cleaned, things get baked, purchased and baked again. wrapping, people arriving and then some very serious couch-lounging and celebration. merriment and praise. gratitude and reflection. all the work is tasted and enjoyed come that one special morning.

wishing each of you a very very merry christmas. rejoicing in the Almighty God who came and became a baby. He does not stand far off and not know what it is to walk in our days. He did it. He knows. He came, so that we could come. come into His presence and family.

so grateful.

merry christmas, dear friends.

little men

recently had a late night chat with a dear friend. sitting together in a minivan in an empty parking lot, we talked about little hearts and the futures that can consume our attention. and we both have sweet boys who aren't always the bravest kids on the block. my little samuel is just now being okay with slides (he's 4) and is most comfortable when there are only a few people around. not going to be the adventurer charging out into new territory. he's my thinker. full of compassion, creativity and (sometimes)quiet thoughts.

and he's getting older. bigger. needing to start school next year. and my friend and i sat and talked about these precious little-man souls. the letting go, holding on and that difficult mom-battle we wage within.

and i'm struggling, friends. i always wanted to be that mom that knows her kids are not her own and understands that God has them in the home for a season- they are their own people- they are His. but i'm finding myself asking for more hugs these past couple of days. and he is very obliging. always wrapping his little arms around my neck and occassionally telling me he loves me. and he melts me to the ground.

i know he'll get bigger, older, and i will be continually delighted to get to know him better. he'll develop his interests and start pursuing his own visions. it's truly exciting. but right now he's my little first. and my heart can't find the perfect place to land with these feelings. i'll probably just ask for more hugs. and strive to trust.

he spelled 'impossible' during his bath time.

tradition and anticipation

so Christmas is going to be different at our house this year. we usually travel to see my family. but we're not traveling this time around. jason's brother and sister-in-law are coming to be festive with us. it will be lovely, quiet, pj'd and yummy.

but i'm going to miss the usual. the wonderful and difficult. you know those beautiful family traditions we all take part in this time of year. i have two sisters and we all pretty much like being in charge and do not hesitate to share our thoughts on all matters discussed. my whole family talks over one another and we each get to the point where we HAVE to get away from all the talking! in the midst of delicious, much-labored-over food, we all sit and my dad prays to thank the Father for coming. for coming as one of us.

we will celebrate the same glorious occasion this year from our small dining room. we will all join hands and praise the One who gave and came. it will look just a little different than my other Christmas mornings. but the new imagining is filled with opportunity and expectation.

as we prepare around here- mailing final packages, wrapping, baking, gathering- i'm thinking of a quiet intimate holiday. pj's, hot chocolate and lots of laughing and praise. really trying to focus on the point of this all. losing my grip on it a bit lately, but hope that as the week ends and the Christmas week begins, i will run to the source of all joy.

a snow hunt

today we needed snow. we're minnesotans, after all. and minnesota just got piles of snow. and then people told us it might snow here, but it didn't. and it's december. it's Christmas. we needed snow. so we drove til we found some.

went on a little snow hunt.



picked up some hot chocolate and started looking.





samuel looked out the car windows pointing to upcoming mountains, suggesting our next turn.
we drove past bare trees and white ground.
and then it started to snow.



we made it to a favorite church of ours near asheville. and the two little faces lit up as they walked into the snow.







the church was open. and warm. silent churches with beautiful glass. they fill me with appropriate awe.



jason and i needed a little escape today with these little ones. always so good to drive away from life, drive til you're just you. it helps us remember.



and it didn't fail today. we had one of those lovely car-conversations filled with long pauses and silence, then thoughts pouring out from one heart, then the other. and together we tried to piece together our past days, our coming days, and our feelings about all of it. and we didn't find a whole lot of clarity today. we did not come home having the answer to any of our big questions. but we needed the break. we needed the snow. childish, Christmas joy-snow.





some days you just need to get out. get those cuties in their winter gear, get out of wherever you are, and be kids together. you just need snow.

yarn and table

we've been blessed with some calm and sweet busy around here. we started a very small amount of Christmas-themed baking.





powdered sugar everywhere and a quiet little 'num' heard here and there as small fingers found globs of escaped frosting. my sweet sister was here and we went to look at Christmas lights, read Christmas poetry and laughed. she's so good at celebrating.



but mostly God has blessed us with some calm. quiet mornings. knitting and little ones around the table. and a stilled and quieted spirit. He has grown it in me and i'm so thankful. this spiritual battle we fight is mysterious to me. but i know He is my only hope. He lightens my darkness. He is faithful, friends. i know this season can be insane- i'm looking at a weekend that i'm sure will be just that. i hope that i continue to run to the only refuge.



may we each find the quiet. the moments of yarn and table in the midst of whatever insanity is before us.

'but i have stilled and quieted my soul for You.'-- psalm 31

buying yarn...

i'm running towards projects i should be running away from. we're nearly in the double digits of december. now is not the time, joanna, to be buying yarn, searching for patterns and knitting furiously. it's not the time. but i found a pattern for a felted crown!! how can i say no? i would love to hear about your projects. what are you tackeling and how is it going??

my sister is here for the day and we are planning fabulous things like cookies and Christmas lights. my baby is bouncing around in owl pajamas this morning and we're going to make french toast. what a treat when a wednesday can be filled with beauty like this.

fear. and christmas trees.

we've slowly continued to wake up around our house. me most of all. i've been quite the whiner/worrier these days, but I'm starting to find my grateful feet again. my hopeful feet.



i can get so afraid. of things i can't see clearly. i am overcome with irrational fear and panic. and that is not from our God. i've had to speak truth out loud to myself this week. had to rally my soul from depths of dark murk to see the Light before me. i can get so turned around, my friends. things get bent and twisted and i can't find the truth. declaring aloud that Jesus Christ is my hope dispels the dark. It has been my point of turning this week. His name is mighty. It brings truth, clarity and comfort.

so i've put my hand to some normal things this weekend. revelled in the smiles and laughter surrounding me.



i am so blessed. He gives good gifts.





we decorated our tree. oh these little hands. they had such fun. and the results are always fabulous.





blessings on your week's beginnings. i know we each are tempted to our own flavor of doubt and fear. may each of us run to the great Hope that our kind Father sent to earth so long ago.

so much to be thankful for.

a whole bunch

the dishwasher is running (loudly) and samuel is counting with jason as he tries to get ready to sleep. and another day is done. feeling thankful for the dark. and for my warm husband who will stay near through the night.

thanksgiving was lovely.





after cooking and preparing, my family arrived. it was a delicious meal. one of my favorites. i love thanksgiving.



and we seem to always end up in the leaves on thanksgiving. this year was the same. beautiful autumn.






erica was here. yay!!

then illness descended. and things are just now waking up to life outside these small walls. family has left and bedclothes are washed. and i'm still recovering. i've been physically and spiritually down. trying to get out of bed and forcing myself to say out loud, "i trust You Lord!" these have been difficult days. but He is teaching. molding, comforting and answering. our God is not silent or disinterested. i know He is more loving than i can know. my brain gets so tangled, though, sometimes. so grateful that He stays the same and guides me to the Light.



Christmas feels far away. like a distant idea i can't feel with my fingers. but it is coming anyway. so i'm trying to ready our home. hoping it will draw me into the spirit i usually enthusiastically embrace this time of year. the story is so incredible. it merits overwhelming joy.



(a new wreath. so easy. felt diamonds, cream yarn wrapped once in one direction, then again in the other direction. argyle.)



may we be ever mindful of our incredible cause for celebration.