Our First Tree

Christmas Train

My favorite subject!  Little Z!

iPhone

So this is the typical January 1 post.  You know the kind that promises to do better this year, blah blah blah.  However, I just want to be honest from the beginning.  I probably won't get things posted on a regular daily basis.  Sometimes I might not even complete the activities on the days that it says they are for, but I want to try to take one picture each day.  I want to try something new each day.  So here is the beginning of many more experiments. 

Snow Tales

Today, the snow came. It looked like sparkly fairy dust against the grayish blue sky. As I limped through the field, flakey crystals blew across my face and I wished that it was fairy dust. I would fly if the snow was really magical. Then the sharp pain in my joints wouldn’t matter. I could flip and dance just as fast as everyone else. The cold wouldn’t bother me so much and I could simply delight in the glory of the falling snow.

The delicate fairy, the feisty cat, and the devious fisherman were waiting for me at the other side of the field. The fairy leapt nimbly about screaming with giddy delight. She left perfect prints in the snow as I scuffled along behind. Ahead I heard a gasp as one of the fisherman’s snow balls made its mark. When I finally reached the road I glanced up to see the fisherman duck and dive toward the snow as the fairy and the cat rushed forward in an attempt to make an icy end to his scheming.

We four were dressed like a wandering fairytale. We wore bright colored scarves, hats, gloves, layers and layer of clothes under our coats. Each of us filled a role in the grand adventure tale; the fairy, the cat, the fisherman, and the gimp.

My companions hopped over fences and briars as I clumsily stumbled over them. The woods were filled with snow laden evergreens and old dead trees suddenly made alive by the magic of winter white. We wandered on through brambles, rocks, and fallen log bridges. With each changing scene we stepped through yet another picture frame.

We were going somewhere, none of us knew it, but we were. We were on an exciting journey. Each of us needed to reach where ever it was we were going. It was a desperate mission. If we were all younger, perhaps we would have known where it was we were going. But something breaks when you grow up; you loose the ability to discuss your grand adventures with your companions in the proper vocabulary. So the story remains half told.

Along a turn in the river the fisherman build a small fire. He carefully coddled it to life. Sweet smoke blew across the rock and our faces. We didn’t turn away. It was the sweet smoke that you wish to smell deeper. The sparks danced into the twilight like fireflies. They flew along with the smoke whispering their secret messages. It was there that we four would spend the night. Curled up beneath an outcropping of rock, the fairy, the cat, and the gimp curled into a ball under a thin blanket that would soon be insulated by snow. The fisherman would sit by the fire, watching the river roll by, carefully making sure it never went out.

As the daylight began to slip away we were forced leave our fairytale adventure. The elfin sized fire shown like a lighthouse as we rambled back into the forest. The trees reached out for us, to hold us a bit longer in their spell. We, I think, longed for them to seize us; to save us from returning to adult life.

Through the tall weeds, the prickly vines, a precarious leap over the stream, and a final scramble up the embankment lead us to the road. So we leapt, or danced, or sauntered, or limped our way home.

Today, the snow came. Now curled up on my couch with lebkuchen and a soy steamer, my friends sprawled out in various locations around my living room, I wish the snow could come everyday.

Surrendering Our Man Made

Why do I worry about the future?

Perhaps because I'm a woman, and that's what we do.

Or maybe because I don't trust. A trait I inherited from my mother, who got it from her mother, who learned it from her mother... passed all the way down from my grandmother Eve.

I worry because of pride. I think, somehow that I can to do things better. I don't let go and let God. I've got my own plans for myself.

There is this secret desire inside of each us to be great! We talk about life purpose, but what we really mean is that we want to be something important. "My life needs to have meaning!" We say, deceiving ourselves into believing that our motives our pure.

As Christians we develop "high" goals of missions or outreach. "If I can just change others lives!" We gush with holy enthusiasm, yet in our hearts we are looking for self-glory.

I've filled my own life with my own man made dreams. In the name of God I've struggled to make my life more than it is. If only....I could reach that goal, then my life would be worth living! I've sought to accomplish something great. Over romanticized visions of the future. In the end, my desired dreams and self sacrifice added up to empty self-glorification.

By God's grace, I'm choosing now to lay down my man made dreams. Letting go of all my own ideas for my future. I want to be emptied. Let me now live a life only to Christ. That is the purpose for my life. No more grandiose ideas, no butterflies or rainbows, just me and Jesus.

Planning Fright

Each time I tell someone I'm a teacher I feel confidant.  Ya!  I'm a teacher!  It's great to say; to feel like you know something.  I think, "Ya, I'm a real professional!"  I can sit down at a table with other teachers to throw around the "teacher" lingo, a few buzz words here and there.  I know what they are saying; we get each other.

But then ...

I sit down with my text books in front of me.  I can feel the panic slowly to the pit of my stomach.  "What am I doing!"  My head is screaming at me.  "What was I thinking! I can't teach!  High school English?"

I think it's like stage fright, except different.

I stare at the list of things to cover: personal writing, subject writing, creative, writing, persuasive writing...the list keeps going.  "I don't know anything!  I'm not even a good writer!"  The panic is getting worse.  "How do I want to approach this?  Will they just tune me out?  What if I'm not creative enough?  How do I grab their attention?"  I only have one of my four classes laid out on the table and already I'm overwhelmed.  "How to I choose what to cover and how and when and....."

I should know all this. I've been teaching for five years!  Why can't I figure it out?  Ugggg... looks like I might be doing some flying by the seat of my pants if I can't scrawl out even a basic outline!

Seek First the Kingdom of God

I have been writing some reflections for the master classes I have been taking this summer. Seems such a shame to waste all my thoughts on an e-mail to an instructor, so I've decided to post a few here. :D

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How do we care for nature without worshiping it?  We must cautiously walk the line between care for our world and embracing animism.  “Nothing must come before the kingdom of God, including the desire for a simple life-style.” “The person who does not seek the kingdom first does not seek it at all.” (Schut p. 185 &186)  If we put nature before God we cease to care and protect it; instead we move toward idolatry.

            This idolatry manifests its self in the subtle forms of animism, pantheism, Wicca, and New Age.  All of these religious expressions begin by seeing nature as more than the created.  Each of the beliefs has been woven into some Christians’ belief systems.  Such worship is deadly to the true Christian walk.

            Satan does not wrap his forms of religion in unattractive vessels.  His lies have some truth carefully mix in as to draw you unawares.  Each form of nature worship holds the truth that we were made to care for our world.  Yet it artfully wraps this and exalts the creation above the creator.

            When we fall for these kinds of worship we loose our grip on God’s principles.  We can no longer find the true rest in a simple life.  Contrary to scripture, we come to care more for the perceived “soul” of the natural world than for the hearts of the people for whom our Savior died.  In the end, even our successful efforts to better that planet’s natural systems have failed. 

            The best way we can care for the planet, is not to seek first global life-styles, but to seek first God.  When we seek first our Lord, He cleans the inside of our hearts.  The natural out growing of this process makes us the global citizens we should be.  His love in our lives kills the selfishness that dwells within and guides us to give of ourselves in a life of simplicity.