Settle

Yes, I'm a day behind...but that gets to the heart of this anyhow. When is settling for less than perfection just settling?

I guess I never expected to be: a perfect pastor, a perfect mother, a perfect wife, a perfect housekeeper, etc. But how come it feels like settling for less than perfection is settling? It feels like I'm not good enough at any of those things and so it doesn't matter that I'm not doing anything. (Which is, of course, not true.) Most days feel like I'm either not coming up for air or I'm just wasting the day.

So I'm not going to settle anymore. I'm going to strive for more (closer to) perfection. At least I'm going to try.

Injustice

Perhaps this is also a better word for a picture...

Injustice is just such a huge word. It's overwhelming to think about. Perhaps that's why what comes to mind first is Precious/Thing 2 and the beginnings of the terrible 2s. When she cries such huge tears at the injustice of having to do something like have a diaper change or not being allowed to play with a certain thing. But those aren't really injustice...

What should I point out? More than I'm able to even begin to think of today. (Tomorrow's sermon needs to come first!)

See

See...

‘See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’
Revelation 21:3b-4

These prompts were designed for pictures, but I'm much more a word person (and don't want to give away my identity so easily on this blog).

Still--why are these the words that came to me with the word "See"?

They are beautiful words, yes. They are a beautiful sentiment, yes. I believe God has the power to wipe the tears from our eyes, yes (and sometimes even does). And I believe God is present with us now--at home among mortals today--even as we await the passing away of the first things.

But really, of all the things, see could point to, this is what came up?

I can't explain it; I guess I needed to hear these words again.

Return

"Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love."

I guess I am a church nerd--and it is Lent if just barely.

But these words are ones that are in me, echoing in me this day.

Not bad words for a busy day.

Who am I?

So, a friend posted this on FB and it's designed to be a photo challenge but I'm a rebel, so I decided to attempt to use this as my Lenten discipline. Writing on each of the prompts--as if I don't have enough writing to do. (HA!) But it's also an attempt to contain my on-line time that disappears into the abyss and turn it into something productive.

So today--who am I?

There could be so many answers--especially on this Ash Wednesday, some of which I mention in my sermon for tonight. But somehow, the only one that bubbles to the surface today is mom or more accurately, mama (specifically in Precious'/Thing 2's voice).

When Baby Girl/Thing 1 was small, the law in our state and the recommendation was rear-facing in the car until age 1 and 22 pounds. About a week after her first birthday, I had to travel a long way (6 hours if I recall correctly) with her by myself. In the van, I had her rear-facing carrier seat and her new front-facing seat. I put her rear-facing when I thought and hoped she'd nap and front-facing for the rest so she could see the DVD player. When we got home after that trip, we took out the rear-facing seat. She's been in the other seat since (now using the regular seat belt, not the five point harness) but still.

Now that Precious/Thing 2 is small, the law in our state is still rear-facing until age 1 and 22 pounds, but the recommendation is rear-facing until 2. She's still rear-facing in my car. But in hubby's, we've turned the seat. It's just too hard for the front seat passengers to fit her seat in rear-facing. And, she rarely rides in his car anyhow.

Just a few days ago, I was buckling her in his car and realized that though I complain about getting her in the rear-facing seat (she's getting tall and scrunched, it's so high in my van, etc.), I'm not ready to turn her around. It feels like it will be the last thing that marks the end of her being my baby. Which isn't true of course...I'm my mom's baby as she tells both my girls. But...my baby is growing up. She's solidly toddler. She's independent, oh so independent. She wants to do so much on her own.

AND, she's my baby. She loves her 'babies' (dolls) and any real-life baby. She gets frustrated when she can't take them out of books or photos. We have a number of picture books with Mary holding baby Jesus. And reading them goes something like this. "Where's the baby?" She points. "Yes, that's baby Jesus. Where's his mama?" She points to Mary. "Where's your mama?" She taps her index finger on my chest. "Where's my baby?" She taps her index finger on her chest. "Are you my baby?" She nods solemnly, slowly, deliberately and snuggles into me with a smile.

Yes, she is my baby and I'm her mama.

How Can I Be Sad?

I recently started following a page on fb--the page of the milk bank where I donated. I think I have to un-follow.

Every post I see makes me sad. Sad that I didn't do more. Sad that I didn't keep pumping longer--for them. I think I'm past sadness that Precious/Thing 2 never got to nurse again after surgery. She makes me too happy to be sad about that. I'm okay with how long she got breastmilk.

The timing made sense for stopping. It was a gradual wean from the pump and I had no problems.

But I'm good at making milk. Even if I had taken that week away from the pump when I was at the youth gathering, I could have resumed pumping as I still had some milk for quite some time.

Why does it make me so sad that I only contributed 285 ounces. It's such a small drop in the bucket for babies who need it. I could have done so much more.

And I'm sad.

Chocolate Fail

We are hosting an event at our house on Saturday--a group that rotates once a month. We've been doing theme nights--Mexican, Italian, etc. I had this 'brilliant' idea to try a chocolate theme (in honor of Valentine's Day and also a last weekend before Lent thing).

As the hosts, we provide 'main course' food. So, I found some recipes and experimented...

1. Cocoa enhanced sloppy joes -- I managed to eat mine and thought it was okay. Hubby ate his even though he didn't like it at all. Thing 1 (formerly known as Baby Girl who is not so much baby--pushing 5--how did that happen!?!) ate one bite and spit it out. Thing 2 (aka Precious, my baby who is staunchly toddler more than baby, closer to 2 than 1, already had some temper tantrums worthy of the terrible twos, talk about wondering how quickly we got here!)ate hers--she will eat ANYTHING! I froze the rest and planned to serve them anyhow--but accidentally thawed them on the counter for days, so no. In my defense, they were in the same kind of non-see-through container that I also had cookies frozen in and I thought I was taking those out of the freezer!

2. Cocoa curry chicken rub--again, okay. Not good. Don't think so.

3. Chocolate nut pasta--which I didn't really read the recipe for when I started it. I didn't expect dessert until I got to 3 1/2 cups of powdered sugar!! It was a pain to make and the worst part was/is that it really doesn't taste good. Bummer.

4. Have a recipe for chicken mole--I'm going to make it and hope for the best!! Well, I plan to make it Thursday night or Friday and if it's horrible, one of the Mexican restaurants here has got to have it on the menu.

Oh well, it was fun trying new things. But--next time it's our turn to host, hubby will have to pick the theme.