Thursday, April 30, 2009

rain rush

Yesterday, when it was time to head out of the house on an errand, I caught my 4-year-old enjoying the rain. Wearing my mother hat and running late as usual, I really didn't have time to enjoy the moment with him, nor allow him to soak it in as long as he pleased. But I did pause long enough to watch his face. As he closed his eyes and tipped his head upward, allowing the sprinkling of rain to dance on his face, I took in that look of joy, if only for a moment, enough to let him savor that life-giving feeling of receiving rain water on your face.

It is a receiving, is it not? The gift is offered, but do we receive it? Sometimes, we are in a better place to receive the gifts that are offered. Other times, we rush past, not even realizing they are gifts, failing to see the outstretched hand in whatever form that might come.

This is what my children teach me, time and again. The younger they are, the more in tune to these offerings they seem to be. It is a refreshing delight to still have that energy in front of me. It makes it pretty hard to miss it when it's so in my face. Even though I wasn't able to let Nick linger for too long, even though I ended up having to run out and scoop him up in my arms and plant him at the door of the minivan, at least I stopped long enough to recognize it. He had the full pleasure of experiencing the gift. I had the brief pleasure of watching him enjoy it.

Here's a photo from a year ago, when I caught him out in the rain in his pajamas.


Leisure (by William Henry Davies)

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

loads of embarrassment

I think if I were any younger, I would have crawled in a hole today and stayed there for the duration.

As it is, however, I'm 40, and much more equipped to let the things of life that might have sent me into hiding a decade ago or more pass on by without too much fuss.

But it was embarrassing, if only for a moment, when I showed up at Hornbacher's this morning with my minivan fully loaded (with dirty clothes, that is), ready to take Tide up on its offer to take on our family's dirty laundry for free, only to find out you can only bring two loads per person, and each person has to be present.

Ooops!

I wrote about Tide's Loads of Hope program last week after a friend sent me an email message with the announcement and asked me to pass it on (read that here). The company had chosen Fargo, due to the recent flooding we've experienced, as the latest recipient of its charitable program offering ten days of free clothes washing, drying and sorting. But still, it seemed too good to be true. Were they truly willing to take on my laundry pile? Or, was there some glitch, some fine printing I hadn't yet read?

To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was going to go through with it in the first place. Certainly, there are others more deserving than I. At the same time, the program has been heralded as targeting anyone in the community, regardless of age, occupation and/or how deeply the flood changed their lives. The premise is that, in one form or another, we all have been affected by this natural disaster. So, fine, okay, and, yes, I'm behind on my laundry, and, are you kidding? I mean really: chance of a lifetime here. After hearing from my oldest son this morning that, once again, he could find no matching socks...well, that pushed me over the edge. I decided to go for it.

It took me about a half-hour just to bag up all our dirty laundry and get it into the van. I was childless for the morning, which seemed perfect. I knew it would be impossible to haul all our laundry PLUS the kids to the grocery store where the truck was parked. However, when I arrived and learned the conditions of the drop-off, then noted the size of the handy Tide bags into which the clothes were to be placed, and glanced back at my laundry-filled van (which likely comprised about twenty bags' worth of clothes), I realized all the work I'd just done loading my van would be mostly in vain. Two bags out of twenty would have made a dent, but just a dent. My only sensible option would be to go home and remove some of the clothes, wait until my van was at least partially filled with children, then come back. So I returned this afternoon with four of my five chicks and filled and handed over ten bags of laundry (five times two).




Hopefully this will not cause a premature shut-down of the program. Hopefully Tide understood when it made its offer to wash our community's clothes that a few of us might have an abundance of dirty laundry. I certainly don't wish to take advantage of the company's generosity. After all, as long as our clothes make it back to us (I did read the fine print about not being responsible for lost or damaged clothes), I will be one of many here singing the praises of Tide for weeks to come.


Finally, this could well be the last time I catch a glimpse of the bottom of my laundry pile, so, for prosperity's sake, here it is. (Nevermind the random socks that didn't make it into the van, not to mention the whistle, shell necklace, plastic bbs, Batman glove, nickel, beads, pink shorts or lint.)

Drum roll pulease....

TA DA! (Thanks Tide. Who knew there was a vent hiding back there?!)



Tuesday, April 28, 2009

the upside-down of it

TEETER TOTTER


I'm sandwiching today's entry in between a couple photos from my daughter's dance recital practice this evening. It's that time of year when final activities -- dance and piano recitals, confirmations and first communions, award ceremonies and graduations -- come at us parents (and children) relentlessly. Many times of late, I've caught myself staring at my calendar for the upcoming month, stuck in a how-to-be-in-three-places-at-once trance. And yet, it's all good. This culmination of a school year, of another season of life, serves as a marking for our forthcoming passage into the next place we are to go. Without these signals that come like spring buds, multi-colored and imperfect yet truly beautiful, we would have a mighty hard time making the transitions gracefully. And certainly, given the flood that hit our area so hard so recently, these ordinary season-markers have become even more meaningful and appreciated. A month ago, it was hard to imagine we'd have a soccer season at all, and yet here we are, gearing up for it all full blast.

Despite the more-than-usual hurriedness of it (given the time we've lost fighting floods), I am finding it necessary to pause. This evening in particular, I need to gently turn the spotlight onto something that began mid-flood: my latest read. It's taken me a full month to get through it, but it's not for lack of enjoyment. This book surprised me. It was a treat that became sweeter as it went along, and I'm glad I stayed with it, even if distractions caused my occasional inattention. I'd marked several sections to share, including the one below, and I don't want to put the book back on the shelf until I've done so. This particular section comes at a time when the narrator has made some fairly serious discoveries, and I feel her words offer some nice food for thought:

[From Our Lady of the Lost and Found, "History (7), p. 270-1:]

Now I see that the opposite of fact may not be fiction at all, but something else again, something hidden under layers of color or conscience or meaning. If I were a visual artist, I might call it pentimento. If I were a historian, I might call it a palimpsest. But I am a writer and I call it the place where literature comes from.

It is a place akin to those known as "thin places" in Celtic mythology. Like the thin places in both palimpsest and pentimento, these are threshold bridges at the border between the real world and the other world, still points where the barrier between the human and the divine is stretched thin as a membrane that may finally be permeated and transcended.

Now I see that the opposite of knowledge may not be ignorance but mystery; that the opposite of truth may not be lies but something else again: a revelation so deeply imbedded in the thin places of reality that we cannot see it for looking: a reverence so clear and quiet and perfect that we have not yet begun to fathom it.

Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.



Monday, April 27, 2009

introducing my fellow bloggers (part 3)

For the past two Mondays, I've reserved my blogging space for the introduction of those "blogmates" with whom I've journeyed in the last year-plus, especially those whose links I've included in my Peace Garden Mama I Blogger listing. For the first two installments, go here. While I continue to discover new and wonderful blogs on a regular basis, these are among those I happened upon when first entering this world, and continue to enjoy reading and featuring each day.


KAREN EDMISTEN: "The blog with the shockingly clever title." Author: Karen. I first met Karen through a writers' listserv, and quickly became "attached" to her blog. She describes the theme of her blog-writing in this way: A thoroughly Catholic (formerly atheist ... there's a story), Eucharist devoted, confession going, homeschooling, writing wife and mother who doesn't let a day go by without pining for a nap. Well, the first part was interesting enough, but the "pining for a nap" part was what pulled me in. Hello faith sister, I thought. I'm SO with you. I, too, live for the ever-elusive-but-always-appreciated nap. Karen's devotion to her three children comes partly in the form of homeschooling (a calling I greatly admire). She's also a widely-published freelance writer and the author of a forthcoming book, The Rosary: Keeping Company with Jesus and Mary.

MOTHERLOAD. Author: Amy. "The fruitless, losing quest for perfection we are pressed to feel as mothers," is how Amy leads her blog. I found Amy's blog through another blog, which I found through another blog. That's the way we get connected in this world, right? But something about it stood out from the others. When I clicked on the link to "tour" her "Mother Load," one-mother show, I was laughing to the point of tears. This is a talented woman who has found a way to take her mother angst and bring it to the stage. The show is currently on tour, traveling soon to a city near you (if you're lucky...not sure when/if it will ever get as far as Fargo, but one can hope...). Her witty and thought-provoking posts detail life of a mother interacting with her children and sharing thoughts about the culture around her. Her dedication to the subject of breastfeeding is another reason her blog caught my attention and admiration. You will not regret a stop by her blog.

MURRAY'S MOMMA. Author: Marie. "Musings from a 20-something new mom." Finding Murray's Momma was one of the initial delights of my venture into the world of blogging. Marie found my blog first, and in no time, we'd formed an online blogger-mommy friendship. Lucky for me, Marie lives nearby, and in December we had the chance to meet in person. I have truly enjoyed following Marie's blog and rediscovering and remembering, through her, the joys of new motherhood. Marie is one of those hard-working locals who rolled up her sleeves during the height of the Fargo-Moorhead Flood 2009. Through her blog, she's recently shared the difficult but hopeful recovery of a relative who was injured in an accident. Murray is one lucky little guy, and it's been fun tracking his emergence from babyhood into toddlerhood.

NOT STRICTLY SPIRITUAL. Author: Mary. Like Karen, Mary was introduced to me through the writers listserv of which I've been part for quite a few years. I find her writing eloquently stated and honest and include her blog among my daily intake, almost as faithfully as my morning cup of coffee. Here's how Mary describes her work and life in her Blogger profile: I am a mother, a wife, a chronicler of life, and a believer who understands that this journey leads us ever closer to God, even when I feel as though I'm standing still. Although I often don't understand the plan, I get that there is one and I'm part of it. As for my writing, I am the author of the recently released "Complete Idiot's Guide to the Catholic Catechism" (Alpha/2008) and Parenting a Grieving Child (Loyola Press/2002). I also write an award-winning monthly column, Life Lines, which has run in Catholic New York since 2001. Mary's beautiful writing on motherhood and faith has been a true gift to me.

SLEEP ZEALOT. Author: Lori. Obviously, Lori still hasn't caught up on her sleep. Her last post was in January, but it's not for lack of talent. Lori and I go back a very long way -- to 1987, when we worked in the music office at Minnesota State University Moorhead (back when it was called Moorhead State University). I've known her longer than my husband, and she was a bridesmaid in our wedding. This is one of those rare people with whom I have sat up all night in my pajamas discussing everything from politics to religion. Much about our worlds have changed since we first set up our loft in the 12th floor of Neumaier Hall (which has since been imploded), but we've managed to stay in touch through all of it, and serve as encouragers to one another in matters of writing and mothering. In fact, Lori was the first person to encourage me to start a blog. I can only hope that once Lori catches a few more zzzzzs, she'll be back on the blogging trail to share with us more often.

And that concludes my three-part series of blogging introductions.

May your peek into blogging, whether it be as a reader or writer or both, be edifying and worthy of the time it takes to sneak away from those dirty dishes or pile of paperwork to gaze upon the life of another fellow journeywoman/man and make a connection.

Peace!

Saturday, April 25, 2009

celebratory meal

Friday, April 24, 2009

sacramental sweetness

Sacramental Sweetness

We gave you food to eat, beverage to drink, but tonight, you've tasted the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus himself; spiritual nourishment to strengthen you for the next phase of your Christian journey.

We named you Elizabeth, but tonight you've added to your spiritual identity the name Cecilia, patron saint of music; one who has known the bliss of melody inherent in the spiritual life, one of many who will guide you now.

We prayed, we sang, we gathered together to celebrate, opening gifts and eating cake with frosted roses.

I can still smell the chrism oil that was dabbed in a cross on your forehead, the aromatic seal of the Trinity.

All of it is sweet indeed, just like you, dear one.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

7 quick takes friday (vol. 6)

Below, find my random thoughts of the week. For more Friday “Quick Takes,” see Conversion Diary.

1. How I know for sure it’s spring: Earlier this week, I posted some photos of the kids and their neighbors jumping on a trampoline out back (in the neighbors' yard just beyond our back fence). It was my first “how I know it’s spring” visual. Here’s another. Those of you who were with me back in January may have caught my post featuring our neighbor’s wooden yard crane. I couldn’t help but feel this crane was expressing our emerging feelings of being completely buried in winter. Seeing the crane now reminds me of how exhilarating it feels to finally shed the heaviness of winter. But as you can see, it's collected a few nicks in the process -- again, representing the feelings of many of us, I'll bet.


2. How I know for sure it’s spring in Fargo:

Today

N/A | 39°
Rain Showers Likely
Fri

48° | 31°
Slight Chance Rain/Snow
Sat

48° | 31°
Slight Chance Rain/Snow

3. How I know for sure it’s soccer season (passenger’s side of my van at 8:30 p.m. this evening):


4. Why Elizabeth’s soccer practices will not take place at the Centennial Elementary soccer field this spring:

Yes, this used to be a very green, flat, beautiful soccer field. It's hard to believe. Wish I had a "before" shot. It was dug up something fierce during the flood fight; the earth was needed to build dikes nearby.

5. My thoughts on singing sensation Susan Boyle.

6. What I’m most excited about this weekend: It’s huge. Elizabeth and 69 other young candidates will receive First Eucharist and be Confirmed into the Catholic Church. This evening, I took her out for cider at a local coffee shop to talk with her about her full initiation into the Church.

She’s chosen my mother as her sponsor, and St. Cecilia, patron saint of music, for her saint name. She will be Confirmed by Bishop Samuel Aquila as Cecilia, not Elizabeth. Though we don’t plan to retire her birth name (meaning: gift from God) anytime soon, we trust St. Cecilia will be with Elizabeth in a special way from here on out. More on St. Cecilia.

7. A mnemonic device Elizabeth used to help in preparing for the final two Sacraments of Initiation: “Wook poof,” or WUCKPFF. Hint: the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. Anyone want to take a stab at what they stand for?

Wishing you a wonderful, warm, windless weekend!

the source of true joy

A brief followup to yesterday's post on singer Susan Boyle:

Real joy comes not from ease or riches or from the praise of men, but from doing something worthwhile.

-- W.T. Grenfell

A sidenote of interest: while searching for a photo that would capture what I wanted to convey about true joy, almost all of the images I came across showed people with their arms raised upward. Something about true joy seems to cause an upward thrust of our body -- and, I would say, spirit as well. Why is that? What is this seemingly universal gesture of reaching upwards and out to express joy? What are we reaching for?


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

a little sad for singing susan boyle

By now, most people who have television or Internet access throughout the world have seen the surprise singing sensation, Susan Boyle, give her debut performance on Britain's Got Talent. For those who haven't been glued to a screen in the past couple weeks, go here to see/hear it.


Like so many, as I watched this audition unfold, I became quite emotional. I've since read more than a few reactionary accounts of viewers who cannot refrain from crying each time they see the video. Some seem strangely addicted. They keep going back to watch this over and over again. They remain perplexed by having been so caught off guard. Later, well after the novelty has worn off and whenever they need an emotional readjustment, they go back and view it again, and again, and again. Many a discussion has taken place worldwide over how Susan wowed the judges and audience, which, by all accounts, wasn't prepared for what was about to take place.

But I have to tell you, after my initial emotions had subsided, some secondary ones began to emerge; those hovering more along the lines of sadness. For along with the thrill I felt for this woman upon seeing the audience's surprised reactions to her angelic voice, I also felt disheartened that it should be such a shock that someone so ordinary (from outside appearances) could have something so extraordinary, so beautiful, to offer the world.

What does this say about us? The truth is that we've gotten to such a low point that, more often than not, we only highlight the most beautiful among us. We've set ourselves up, created a trap for ourselves. How many Susan Boyles have passed us by without so much as a glance from us? I'd hazard to guess a great many indeed.

The day after her performance, the looming question seemed to be: How could we have missed her earlier? How was it that this woman escaped our ears for so long?But the more pressing question to me is why the media gets to decide which Susans we see and which remain hidden.

Let me revive an old philosophical question to go further with my thoughts: If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Or, if an ordinary-looking woman exists in the world for 47 years and spends most of those years singing beautiful songs in her quiet, Scottish village, and that same woman and her voice are discovered by the rest of the world, does her value increase just because she's been noticed by a larger audience?

In other words, is it only because she has been exposed to the world, through the media, that Susan Boyle's singing voice is worthy of being called beautiful? Of course not. She and her songs have been beautiful for many, many years. Although we might feel we've been gypped by not knowing of her before, certainly, those years were not wasted just because Britain's Got Talent didn't happen to be a reality yet.

There are many, many, many people in the world doing beautiful things that go unnoticed. Just because those things are not highlighted on prime-time television doesn't make them less worthy. Some of these people will die without ever being noticed by the wider world. That doesn't mean their lives will be any less real or valuable. They created something beautiful, whether it was noticed by others or not.That creative act, in and of itself, made the world a better place, whether or not we were aware.

I believe that when we create, we are, by and large, meant to share our creation with others. But it is more about what's going on on the inside during that process and less about what is projected outward, even though the projection outward of something lovely does add to the world.

I don't want to take anything away from Susan. She deserves to have her day in the spotlight. But I'm wondering whether she is going to be happier from here on out than she was last year -- you know, back when she was a just a lowly, middleaged, unemployed villager singing at church.

And this is where I get sad again, because I am worried about Susan. I look at that sweet, sparky lady, and then pan over to the audience with its sneering glances and quick reversal (the standing ovation), and I see her as a lamb about to be fed to the wolves. I can't help but wonder if the journey ahead of her is truly going to be as incredible as she imagined; if the dream she dreamed that has now come true is going to be as dreamy as she'd envisioned.

I am not typically cynical by nature, but in this case, I am nervous for poor Susan. I'm happy she got her due, but worried she's not even close to being prepared for what awaits her. We saw in that video how quickly we are inclined, en masse, to either turn on someone or herald them as a hero. Yesterday, an unsung hero; today, one who has sung. But now that Susan has achieved her dream, even if she goes the whole rags-to-riches journey and becomes wealthy, will she truly be in a better place?

It all depends on who Susan is at her core; what's at the center of her soul. If in those years leading up to this shining moment she has tended her spirit as well as her singing voice, if she knows that at the end of the day she's a child of God above all else, if she can stay centered through all of the cameras and attention that will threaten to eat her alive, all will be well. But it's not going to be easy, and there might come a day when sweet, sparky Susan wishes she was back in her village singing before her humble congregation.

Here's another thought that I almost hate to utter: is it possible that bringing Susan on stage was an attempt to garner more publicity and higher ratings for the show? Something about the whole thing, while elevating my emotions, made me wonder if I wasn't an innocent part of some kind of public relations stunt. On this point, too, I truly hope I'm wrong and that all of the amazement in that room was completely genuine.

I truly wish for the best for Susan. I'd love for her to prove me wrong like she proved that audience and the judges wrong. It would be great if she continues to soar, both through her singing and in spirit, and shows me I don't have enough faith in the world or her. I don't know really know her, after all, but I know the world fairly well. If anyone will prove me wrong, I'm certain it will be Susan herself.

Like many others, I'll be watching. And I'm going to be adding in a prayer or two for Susan. I hope she gets all that she desires in life. I hope this life-changing event will continue to be a blessing to her. Even if it doesn't turn out quite as she'd hoped, at the very least, she's already accomplished something monumental by reminding us that the true judging of a person can only be done from the inside out. In my mind, through that, her star potential is as high as it could possibly be already.

Best of luck Susan. I do hope the world treats you gently. You deserve that much.




Tuesday, April 21, 2009

a day off laundry for our area

Well, here's an interesting way for Fargo-Moorhead and surrounding cities to gather momentum for flood clean-up efforts. Procter & Gamble has chosen our area to be part of the "Tide -- Loads of Hope" program. As such, a gigantic, clothes-washing truck has been dispatched to our area and is set to park here on Monday, April 29. It will remain here for about ten days, during which time, get this: Tide will do your laundry for you -- FREE of charge!

The truck comes with 32 washers/dryers and the capacity to handle up to 300 loads of laundry a day. It will be staffed with four people who will work ten hours a day. The service is intended for the whole community, even those whose homes were not directly affected by the flood. It is designed to support our community in its ongoing efforts to fight the flood and help with recovery and clean-up efforts -- and, yes, offer us a reprieve from our daunting laundry piles.

The truck will be located at the Hornbacher's-Osgood store. Participants simply drop off their laundry and go. Upon returning, their clothes will be washed, dried, sorted and smelling fresh.

The service is for anyone in our area, no matter their age or how they've been affected by the flood. All of us were adversely affected in some way. This is Tide's way of giving us a little rest from the ordeal that recently turned our cities upside-down.

I know, it's a public relations tactic, but if it means I might see the bottom of my laundry pile for the first time in several months, well, I MIGHT be pulling up to that grocery store next week with the others to see what it feels like to have that load off my mind. However, if I do decide to go, you can bet I'll be up the night before pulling the underwear from the heap. I'll do that part myself, thank you.

More information can be found here: www.tideloadsofhope.com

And while we're on the subject of the flood, here's a blog that helps with visualizing the amount of sandbags that have been used in our flood fight. Pretty amazing.

My neighbor said the other day, "If you want a sandbox, this is the year to do it. They're going to be donating all of that sand eventually." Alright, then, maybe this is the year to install a sandbox...which will mean, of course, more laundry.

Any chances of I might talk that Tide truck into setting up camp in my back yard until my kids are all out of college?


fruit pizza

MMMM. This has to be my favorite kind of pizza -- fruit pizza. It was my turn to provide a "brunch" item for my Tuesday morning faith-mothers group. My friend Mary said, "You can never go wrong with fruit pizza," which is true. What a wonderfully light and sunny treat on a spring morning.


Wanna give it a try? I used light cream cheese and light peaches, and mostly canned fruit (lack of chopping time), but fresh fruit also works wonderfully. This recipe serves around 10-12.

FRUIT PIZZA

For crust, mix together 1/2 C. powdered sugar, 3/4 C. soft margarine, 1-1/2 C. flour

Bake at 300 for 10 to 15 minutes, no longer, and cool.

For pizza sauce, beat until creamy:

8 oz. softened cream cheese, 1/2 C. sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla

When crust has cooled, spread "sauce" mixture over the top.

For toppings, arrange any amount of any combination of fruit on top of cream-cheese mixture.

For glaze, heat to a boil:

2-1/2 T. cornstarch, 1 C. fruit juice (pineapple works great), 3/4 C. sugar, 1 tsp. lemon juice

Cool until slightly thickened, cool and pour over pizza.

Monday, April 20, 2009

introducing my fellow bloggers (part 2)

A week ago, I began a short "series" introducing my blogging friends -- those whose links I've included on my blog. It just seemed right to let my readers know who these people featured on my blog are, and how I found or know them. Go here for part 1.

I'm going to dub this next group The Emilie Group. Each of these women bloggers is, in one way or another, connected to Emilie Lemmons, who made her blog shine with honesty and depth until her death this past December. I suppose it would only seem reasonable to start with Emilie.

LEMMONDROPS. Author: Emilie. I'd only been in the blogging world a couple months when I received word that Emilie Lemmons, a writer I'd come to know online through a Catholic writers list, had just found out she was battling soft-tissue sarcoma (cancer). Through another writer on our list, she was requesting our prayers for her health. When I saw the photo of her propped up in bed with her small boys nearby in the post from that day, I was brought to my knees. She was struggling with the thought of having to wean her baby, Ben, due to upcoming chemotherapy, not to mention the prospect of possibly dying. It just seemed so unfair that a mother of young ones would have to be dealing with such tragic prospects. I read Emilie faithfully from that point until her untimely death on Christmas Eve 2008. And I've chosen to keep "Lemmondrops" on my blog list, even though there are no recent posts, nor will there be, ever. Even so, I believe her words will continue to have a powerful effect on those who are privileged to read them, and I feel honored to have her among my list. Emilie also wrote a column for the Catholic Spirit. See her final column here. (P.S. I can't help but think, from the above photo, that Emilie's is gazing down on us from her new home.)


MARKETING MAMA. Author: Melissa. As I came to appreciate Emilie's words and respect her blogging, I took a peek one day at the blogs she was following, and came across Marketing Mama. She, too, had a fun blog that seemed worth checking out and keeping nearby, but I didn't really get to know Missy until after Emilie's death. During that time, many people who had known Emilie, some from separate contexts, found themselves reaching out to each other in our grief through blogging and Facebook. I have loved getting to know Missy, even though it took Emilie's death to really bring us together. Missy is a strong but gentle advocate of breastfeeding (one post on the subject), a topic that is near and dear to my heart as well. She's also really good at finding great products for kids (and those who parent them) and sharing those great ideas with others. She quickly became knowledgeable about food allergies in children after a recent scare with her young daughter, who broke out in hives, forcing Missy's attentiveness to this issue. For so many reasons, I am delighted to have Missy on my blog list, and I look forward to continuing to follow her parenting journey.


KIDWATCH. Author: Molly. Yet another blessing that followed Emilie's death, my relationship with Molly formed online when we connected, first, through a Facebook memorial commemorating Emilie's life. Soon enough, I learned she's from Fargo, and just a slight bit younger than I. We also share a history in journalism. Even though Molly moved with her family (temporarily) to Oregon so that her husband could pursue an education opportunity, she continues to work as a reporter for the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Though they once lived in the same apartment building, Molly and Emilie didn't really get to know one another on a personal basis until Molly took up the task of writing a story about Emilie's fight with cancer (read it here) -- an assignment that endeared her to Emilie, a fellow mother-writer of small kids. Molly claims three beautiful children, two daughters and a son. She is also greatly talented and possesses a genuinely Fargo/Midwest heart. I look forward to meeting her in person someday. Until then, I will happily keep tabs by reading her blog and news stories.


GIFTS IN THE RUBBLE. Author: Barbara. Barbara was another friend of Emilie's whom I met at the crossing of life and death. In between her graduate studies in theology, Barbara keeps a blog, which she describes in this way: My story of trying to survive grad school and waiting to adopt, along with tales of love, life, healing and laughter, and discoveries of grace in the most unexpected places. When I think of Barbara, and all of the women I've mentioned here, I am overwhelmed how, even in death, people can gift us. I have been so privileged to get to know Barbara, and through her, have another glimpse of the person Emilie was/is. One of the most powerful outcomes of connecting with Barbara and the rest of Emilie's circle is realizing what a treasure Emilie had in her friends, and they, in her. I love hearing Barbara's musings, either on her blog or through our Facebook connection. And, since she, too, has North Dakota roots, and I have family and friends in her neck of the Minnesota woods, it's not entirely improbable that we might meet for real someday as well. Whether in person or through online means, Barbara has much to offer the world, and step by step, she is finding ways to do so -- no doubt with the help of her lovely friend.


RANDOM THOUGHTS OF A LUTHERAN GEEK: Author: Liz (lunargoat). This title/icon used to catch my attention every time I checked in on "Lemmondrops" and took a gander at Emilie's blog list. And I think it's so funny -- of the followers I've collected on Peace Garden Mama I, several of them use animal icons. I've got a goat, a buffalo and a cute little doggy who "follow" me. But the goat in front of the moon has to be the most intriguing of all my "following pets." I was so glad to see Liz's name in the comments box on one of my posts following Emilie's death. Our connecting was yet another moment of healing for us both, I think. Liz describes her blog this way: I'm a geek in the best sense of the word. I am passionate about books, movies, theology, philosophy, language, music, and of course, cheesy science fiction! Recently, Liz gave birth to her first child, prematurely. Recently home from the hospital, he is cute as a button, and I'm happy to help welcome Liz to the world of parenting. As an official follower of Liz's blog, I look forward to "watching" her little guy move through his first year of life.

And there you have it -- The Emilie Group! To read more of my sentiments on Emilie, go here: Grieving from the Periphery.

I'll be back next week with the third installment of introductions.


Sunday, April 19, 2009

how i know it's spring

positive thinking

The April/May issue of The Village Family Magazine is out.

The Village Family Magazine

To read the cover story I wrote, go here:

The Power of Positive Thinking


the loophole

Overheard yesterday:

Nick, 4: "Let's get a go-gurt outta the fwidge."

Adam, 6: "Wait, we have to ask Mom first."

Nick: "Uh-uh, don't hafta."

Adam: "Uh-ha, do so. If it weren't for Mom, you wouldn't even be here." (Hmmm, I think he's borrowed this line from someone else. Okay, I've thrown it around a few times when I've felt beyond disrespected...)

Nick: "Uh-UH-uh, it was GOD who did that."

Hmm, how do you come back from that one?

Saturday, April 18, 2009

red river runneth over (aerial view)

Yesterday, my blogging/mommy friend, Marie from Murray's Momma had an amazing chance to go up in a charter plane to view the water-ravished Red River Valley from above. During the crux of the sandbagging efforts a few weeks back, Marie was one of those who rolled up her sleeves and worked like there might be no tomorrow. I can only imagine what it must have felt like for her yesterday, especially having been among the working bees on the ground during that very intense time, and then, several weeks later, to be glimpsing that same scene from on high. It must have been something of an out-of-body experience to have seen that wide-angle view after crawling around in the muck just weeks earlier. I can imagine it was both humbling and awe-inspiring, both amazing and gut-wrenchingly sad.

Here's what Marie shared with me about her up-high adventure:

"I was listening to KFGO a few weeks back, and a man by the name of Mike Paulson called in to report that he would take those interested up for a view of the valley. My curiosity peaked, but I didn't follow through. A co-worker of mine who was interested called and inquired. After some research, I discovered that Mike is an instructor at the Fargo Jet Center. ...For $50.00, (a different instructor) took us on a forty minute tour. We went south to Briarwood, made a big loop to Horace, the Sheyenne Diversion, then north to Harwood and back. It was an incredible experience. I feel that it was the best $50.00 I've spent in a long time!"

Here's one image from her incredible day. For the rest, jump over to Murray's Momma.

doubting 2 (revised)

I woke up this morning feeling that I did not do last night's post justice. By posting a revision, I'm revealing to you a bit of the ongoing nature of the writing process. Thankfully, a blog can be forgiving that way, whereas a newspaper column or book, once printed, endures with any imperfections. It is my hope this revision will clarify any muddled points from my earlier attempt. (If you didn't read yesterday's second post, you've not lost a thing.) Go HERE to catch the beginning of the conversion.

As before, I'm drawing on my latest read, Our Lady of the Lost and Found: A Novel of Mary, Faith and Friendship, by Canadian author Diane Schoemperlen, and will begin this time with a quote that starts the chapter called Doubt (p.242):

"When I was younger, Lucian said: and so much more confident, I was entranced by praying. I soared upwards on wings. But now I'm older, I find God through doubt as much as through belief. We search for him in the darkness. I'm full of doubts. That's what faith means." -- Michele Roberts, Impossible Saints

An important point, I think: doubt can enhance faith. What an apparently mixed-up way of looking at it. But it's true. Some of the biggest doubters in the history of the world (think St. Augustine, and before him, St. Paul) have ended up the most fervently faith-filled. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that just because you may doubt does not mean you are not faithful, or that you don't have the capacity to be so. Doubts, once wrestled with, can enrich, enhance and enliven an ongoing faith process. Doubt and faith need not exclude each another; they can, indeed, complement one another.

So back to this book. The premise of the novel surrounds a visit by Mother Mary to the narrator's home. She's come there looking for a reprieve from her hectic life of apparitions and answering prayers. In between describing their conversations and how they spend their time together during that visit, the narrator offers a sort of history lesson of Marian apparitions, delving into some profound revelations on life and faith.

Yesterday, I came to a chapter, History, that blew me away. It, too, starts with a quote:

"Just as the divine might manifest to us in a variety of ways, so on a subatomic level, an electron can be in many places at once, as a particle and as a wave. It seems strange, but on the subatomic level, only potentialities exist for the electron’s location – that is, until one actually observes what is there. In the act of observation, the potentialities collapse into an actuality and the electron appears in one place only." – G. Scott Sparrow, Blessed Among Women

Basically, the author is revealing the principle of indeterminism, otherwise known as "the uncertainty principle." In layman's terms, it might be thought of this way, according to the narrator: “...it is like trying to figure out if the refrigerator light stays on when the door is closed. If you open the door to look, the experiment is ruined.”

In other words, in obtaining an accurate measurement of a particle’s position, the scientist necessarily alters its momentum, and vice versa. “History, like science, is limited by its own methodologies," the narrator concludes.

Yesterday, I talked about cucumber sprouts, and how, in essence, faith cannot be contained within a petri dish. While science certainly plays a part in our understanding of the world around us, it cannot, and wasn't designed to, explain everything, most especially the complexities of faith, which involve not just strict observation (the mind), but movements of the heart and soul as well.

Later in the chapter, the narrator describes watching the television game show, Jeopardy! The question posed by the host, Alex Trebeck, is this: According to the uncertainty principle the position and this of a subatomic particle cannot be accurately measured at the same time. She knows the answer, and shouts it out loud: "Momentum!" The TV contestants don't answer it correctly, but the winner gets the Final Jeopardy question right: 1 of 2 women to appear most often on the cover of Time magazine, they are separated by 2000 years. The correct answer turns out to be the Virgin Mary, and the other most-frequently appearing woman in Time magazine: Princess Diana.

From this, the narrator concludes the following (p. 241):

"For the whole rest of the evening, I felt inordinately pleased with myself for knowing the answers to both these questions. Obviously, whether we ever get to be on Jeopardy! or not, we can all live quite happily without knowing how many times Mary has appeared on the cover of Time and without knowing the exact measurements of the momentum and position of subatomic particles.

"Still it is worth trying to understand how the uncertainty principle applies to all areas of thought, life, longing, and faith. It all depends, I suppose, on how comfortable you are with uncertainty, how fond you are of mystery, how willing you are to make the quantum leap that faith requires."

We're back, now, to the cucumber sprouts, as well as the “inexactness” of faith (as well as science itself).

For those who do not believe, no explanation is possible. For those who believe, no explanation is necessary.

Well, some explanation, perhaps, but there will never, ever, ever be enough evidence to satisfy our minds, because when it comes to matters of faith, the mind is helpful but still inadequate. Faith cannot be channeled into a tidy equation. It is only when both mind and heart act in accordance that faith can exist at all, not to mention, flourish.

So when in doubt, go ahead and doubt, and then pray for God's hand in taking that leap of faith that is completely out of the realm of science and exactness, but totally essential and eternally satisfying.

Friday, April 17, 2009

doubting thomas/theresa

I can’t seem to get Doubting Thomas (or Doubting Theresa to attribute a female name to it) off my mind. Earlier this week, my mothers’ faith-sharing group discussed this part of Scripture, as we do in cyclical fashion every year. As a refresher, John 20:24-29 recounts the effects of Thomas’ absence from a gathering at which the risen Jesus appeared to his disciples. Having missed the special blessing of seeing the Lord, Thomas had only the accounts of the other disciples. His response: "Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe!" A few days later, the Lord came to Thomas and said, "Reach your finger here, and look at my hands; and reach your hand here and put it into my side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing." Thomas said to Him, "My Lord and my God!" to which Jesus replied, "Thomas, because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

Whenever we come upon the time in the Church season when the “Doubting Thomas” passages emerge, I become more alert. It has always intrigued me, this idea of belief and non-belief. As a baptized “cradle Catholic,” the seeds of faith were both planted within me and nourished at an early age, well before reason was within my grasp, or I could hold up my own head, for that matter. And certainly, my parents weren’t perfect teachers of the faith, no more than I am to my children. But what they gave me was enough to lay down a good base that would draw me back to the faith of my roots again and again. Because of this lifelong seed-nurturing, which came from many different sources (though first from my parents), I feel like I have an unfair advantage. Faith is something that has seemed to come quite naturally to me. And while I have had doubting moments like anyone else, those moments have only made my faith stronger in the end. Yet in many ways I still feel like a child, searching with eyes wide open in wonderment.

I think this explains in good part my draw to Jennifer’s words at Conversion Diary. It’s one thing to talk with other cradle Catholics about the faith journey (though, certainly, we’ve all had our wandering moments of questioning), and quite another to hear from someone who had no need for faith (in fact, thought it was all a fairytale) until a few years ago. And I keep coming back to a post she shared a few days back, in which she described a moment of pondering some cucumber sprouts in her windowsill, likening them to her faith journey; seeing their lean toward the “sun” much the same as believers leaning toward the “Son.” It was a short but thoughtful post, but just as interesting were the comments that followed. In several of them, her premise was questioned. In essence, the comments challenged her contention that information, instruction in particular, cannot come from a non-intelligent source.

http://www.conversiondiary.com/2009/04/reach-for-light-moment-i-was-no-longer.html

As I read the more negative comments after having just been so inspired by her post and the visual she presented of those little green sprouts leaning toward the light, I felt sadness in my heart. I understand the need to question. Most (but not all) believers have an innate need to get things right in their brain before they can get it right in their heart as well. But to me, the questioning felt like someone just took a hoe and started digging up those pretty sprouts. It was like one of my children had just handed me a beautiful drawing, “Here, Mama, this is for you,” and another of my children, in a jealous moment, took that same painting and ripped it to shreds before I could even hold it in my hands.

I was among those who left a comment on Jennifer’s blog the other day, and in it, I said this: The thing about faith is that, while you need to make logical sense of it up to a point...sometimes, you just need to take the plunge. You look at those lovely little sprouts reaching toward the sun, and you know, somewhere down deep, without thinking too much about it, that it is symbolic for something inside of you that is also reaching for light. At that point, science and religion can join together in a full embrace, because the same source created both. We can analyze and analyze and analyze, and then there is a point at which we just turn our face toward the sun and smile.

You see how it all comes back to the Doubting Thomas? It is natural for us to ask questions. In fact, more often than not, our faith is heightened through doubt once we’ve come to understand. But I find it an unfortunate result of deep doubt that those who paint a picture of love and present it to their maker might also be forced to watch as it’s stomped on and destroyed by another who could not quite make that same leap of faith.

Doubt we must. It is a part of our human nature. But it can go too far and stifle the most beautiful things of this world – even a simple cucumber sprout.

I’ll have more to say on this soon. Until then, have a lovely weekend, and don’t forget to enjoy all the beautiful things around you, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

7 quick takes friday (vol. 5)

I’m pleased to participate once again in "Friday Quick Takes" (sponsored by Jennifer at Conversion Diary). Here are my seven random thoughts of the week:

1. Baby no more. I knew Nick was about to turn four when he came in my room the other day squinting his eyes. At first, I wasn’t sure what he was doing exactly. Then I realized he was winking at me. Soon, I realized he could do it with both eyes – and not at the same time. He was also snapping his fingers the other day – a skill he learned from his six-year-old brother. These milestones are the true mark of an exit out of babyhood. Since he’s so thrilled with these exciting changes, I can't stay wistful for long. Here’s a shot taken by our daughter at his party at Chuck E. Cheese’s a bit ago:


And speaking of Chuck E. Cheese's, he's not your ordinary mouse. After Chuck E. Cheese made the rounds of taking photos with the tykes, he decided to change courses, and went up the play tubes with the kids, a trail of them following behind him.

Yes, that’s Chuck E. emerging from the slide!

2. Communications luncheon. Ever since the end of college, I’ve been a member of the National Federation of Press Women, along with its state and local affiliate groups. Today was our monthly meeting of the Fargo Moorhead Professional Communicators (overseen by the North Dakota Professional Communicators), featuring a talk by local communications expert Martin Fredricks of Fredricks Communications. Martin gave a fun “birthday party” themed talk (marking the fifth birthday of his business). I had the privilege of working with Martin briefly in a freelance capacity for North Dakota State University publications before he darted off in a different direction. He’s done well for himself, and among his many obligations, he puts out a great one-page newsletter that contains excellent writing advice and tips. You can subscribe here.

3. Prayers for Roxana. Roxana Saberi grew up in Fargo and attended school just down the road from our home. I first came to know her as a reporter for our local KVLY television news station, and took a liking to her right off, perhaps because of 1) her name and initials, so much like my own, and 2) she was doing what I’d once aimed to do (my college internship in news reporting took place at KXJB, also in Fargo). Roxana is in prison right now in Iran, where she’d been working and living as an international news reporter. The story has gone from the accusation that Roxana illegally bought a bottle of wine, to the more serious indictment that she’s been spying for the United States. I really believe she’s being used as a pawn by the government over there, and I’m not the only one who believes this. Her parents, who still live in Fargo, are of Iranian (father) and Japanese (mother) descent. Along with them and many others, I am very concerned for this young woman's safety and future. Please pray with me for her safe return to the United States. Here's a blog article written by a friend of Roxana's.

4. How I know for sure it’s spring: A house full of mud. And by the way, it’s looking like our raging Red River has, in fact, completed its second crest, lower than expected, and that very soon now we’ll be able to bring the materials we hauled upstairs back downstairs so they might reclaim their rightful spots.

5. The soul of a writer. Here’s a nugget from the book I’m reading, Our Lady of the Lost and Found: A Novel of Mary, Faith and Friendship, by Diane Schoemperlen. It comes on p. 184 in a chapter describing the life of St. Teresa of Avila:

“Although Teresa frequently claims to hate writing, she is, in fact, a fast and prolific writer, author in her lifetime of many other books besides her Autobiography. She writes all the time, whether she is well or seriously ill. Often she writes in a small, cold cell without even a table or chair. She has the soul of a writer: a soul overflowing with contradictions, irony, self-doubt, stubbornness, wonder and faith.” (my emphasis)

6. Shadow-boxing it: I have been looking for a solution for how to display my “precious hands” plaques (see earlier post) done by all five of our children at 3.5 years of age, and discovered it in shadow boxes I picked up at a local craft store. I will post a photo of the results once I’ve found the right wall space for all five of them. The completion of this project has been a long time in the making (since 1999, when the first one was done) and I can’t wait to have them displayed.

7. Peace Garden Project. I received an email this week from an organization called Peace Garden Project. I haven’t had a lot of time yet to investigate what it’s all about, but it sounds intriguing, at the very least. I figured with the blogger name of Peace Garden Mama (which is no doubt how they found me), I could at least mention this project here.

Wishing you peace and plenty of sunshine in your weekend. Happy Easter season!

on turning four - just in the 'nick' of time

Several months ago, when Nick was asking when his birthday would be, and the days were feeling so long and dreary and spring seemed an eon away, I told him, "When the snow is gone and you don't have to wear your coat anymore, it will be time."

And so, it has come to pass. Two weeks ago, I grew nervous as I looked around outside at the heaps and heaps of freshly fallen snow and dragged out the winter coats -- again. But today, on this April 16, I've been saved. This being so, my youngest still believes I am invincible and all-knowing.

Thanks to his Salonen grandparents, he believes he is as well.

Are you convinced?

After meeting a few other obligations today, I followed up on a promise I'd made to Nick a while back to take him to A&W on his birthday. As far as I can tell, and as these photos suggest, the day has been a success so far. Soon, we will be heading off to Chuck E. Cheese's -- perhaps for the last time in Salonen birthday history. Maybe I'll actually enjoy it this time around.