writing wednesdays: napping through the writing life

Before I go on with my "Writing Wednesday" teaser, I'm closing out the collage series from the week-long visit of our youngest three with their grandparents in early June. They're all packed up and ready to go, apparently having had a grand time. I get a feeling of peace and satisfaction looking at this one, knowing my birdies' heads are now filled with new memories, and their hearts, with a fresh supply of love.

I'm continuing with the theme of van shots over at Peace Garden Writer today, where I start off the post with a visual of said little boys in an endearing pose -- one that hints at the subject of the day: Napping Through the Writing Life. For those who function best following an afternoon snooze, I think you'll appreciate the wisdom within. See you there!

time with grandparents - collage 7 (there is a grandma!)

When you're the main photographer in a family, you're often not in many of the shots that are taken to record that family's adventures. I'm so glad that Grandma Beverly handed the camera to Grandpa Roger a few times during out kids' visit earlier in the month so her presence could be recorded as well. Yes, there is a Grandma, and here she is!

I'm nearly done with this series, but I have a feeling Grandma Beverly is going to keep me well-stocked with photos this summer. Our older daughter's visit starts tonight, and then a week down the road, our oldest son will have his turn.

The summer is humming along nicely. Many wonderful experiences have been had in this first full month of it. Last night the three youngest kids and I went to Island Park in Fargo at dusk and enjoyed free pop, popcorn and a movie on a hill with others in the community. It reminded me of the old drive-in theatre days and was such fun.

Even without a major vacation in store, I think this is one of my favorite summers in a long time so far. That might have something to do with the fact that I am working hard at keeping a healthy balance, which is always a tough thing when the kids are all home. These out-of-town trips our kids are enjoying have helped, too.

Q 4 U: What have you been doing this summer to stay healthy and more fully embrace the season?

mama mondays: when you gotta go...

...Might as well make it a grassy field in the middle of nowhere.

Yep, our Beth had just gotten her new camera when this beauty of a photo opp came at her.

I wasn't around at the time. I discovered the shot much later, while downloading her first attempts at amateur photography onto my computer. Hmmm. It could be interesting having another photographer in the house with a slightly different vantage point.

Speaking of the little camper, she's back home now. Here she is with one of her friends in front of her cabin, "Phoebe."

To get a glimpse of the energy that spewed forth from camp at the closing program today, watch the short video below. All the birdies are back in the nest. One will be flying away for a bit later this week, and shortly after her return, another will go for a while. We like to keep them rotating in and out during the summertime, so that everyone has a chance to experience life away from home.

I'll be hosting the "Real Presence Live" radio show from 9 to 11 a.m. (Monday). The lineup goes like this:

9 a.m., Author Brian O'Neel will talk on his book, 39 New Saints You Should Know.

9:30 a.m., Roberta Johnson of Moorhead will share bits about her faith from the perspective of a mother and wife who has been battling leukemia for nearly a year now.

10 to 11 a.m., our "From the Catholic View" program will feature Jan George, a former radical feminist who is looking at life from a different lens these days. Our segment, "Feminist and Proud," will discuss the New Feminism, a feminism that is rooted in life and Catholic teaching.

To tune in, go to 1280 AM in Moorhead-Fargo, 1370 AM in Grand Forks, or here (online).

Q 4 U: When were you last one with nature? How so?

faith fridays: lovely things

"Whatever is lovely...think about such things."

(Philippians 4:8)

On Wednesday, my middle daughter left for Catholic camp. She departed a little after lunch, following our running around doing last-minute errands and enjoying a bite to eat together. We had just a bit of time at home before her friend's mother came to retrieve her; just long enough for me to download some of the first photos she took with her first digital camera (see peonies above).

And then it was time, and there I was in the driveway, waving goodbye to one of my lovely things.

As I stood waving, I suddenly shifted from what I was feeling -- the sudden void -- to what she may have been feeling -- the sudden sense of wonder over what was upcoming. It was a cool feeling, stepping aside from my own concerns and letting myself feel the excitement with her: Who would their counselor be, and what about the cabin mates? What would they eat for dinner? Was it going to be rainy or sunny at camp?

Then, I let my hand drop to my side, no longer able to see her, and just let go. I allowed myself to be okay with seeing her disappear.

It's never the same when one child is gone. The dynamics change instantly. I felt a sense of relief that we'd gotten all her camp things in order. I could let go a bit -- one less child to tend to for a few days.

The summer has been good to me, to us, so far. I do not feel the stress that I've felt in previous summers. It's not tension-free, but I am feeling the lovely things in abundance.

Peonies are one of my favorite flowers. They don't get the attention of the rose but I find them just as lovely, perhaps even more so, and nearly as deliciously pungent. They, too, are lovely things.

I was sad I hadn't gotten out to take a picture of the peonies before they began to wilt from rain, but my daughter showed me that she'd taken some with her new birthday camera. I was so joyful to know the peonies would still be with us thanks to her tender heart and keen eye.

What a sweet gift to leave me with -- the gift of a memory from our back yard that wasn't mine but hers.

A lovely thing, indeed.

What lovely things have you encountered this week?

writing wednesdays: the binging and purging of words

Whether you're a writer or any other kind of creative type (and aren't we all in some form or another?), there's a cycle we go through in pursuing our art: an input phase and an output phase. Both are important. Both contribute to the eventual outcome, the beautiful piece of creation that did not exist until we put it into motion.

Come obsess with me a while today over the dichotomy of the writing life and its patterns on my post, The Binging and Purging of Words on Peace Garden Writer. I'll be looking for your fingerprints over there!

mama mondays: peace in the summertime

I'm still not done sharing the awesome collages my dear mother-in-law created to document her time with our youngest three earlier in the month. Though they're a bit too small to see well here, you get a taste, at least, of what the kids were up to the week they stayed in their grandparents' lake town. Grandpa's the breakfast maker. Most days started with a fresh plate of sausage links and pancakes. (Grandpa makes them better than I, but sometimes, I'll hear, "These are almost as good as Grandpa's," when I'm close! I always take that as a huge compliment.) Morning chores also were part of the routine, and the evening routine included clothes-folding, and then hunkering down for a video (see the three of them snuggled up in the futon with their movie playing?). In between, on a good day, there were midday treats to keep things humming along.

Now we've gotten into somewhat of a routine at home, though I'm afraid it's not nearly as tidy as what the grandparents were able to pull off. We start our mornings at the indoor pool, where the little boys are taking swimming lessons and loving jumping off the diving board. In the afternoons and early evenings, we've been spending lots of time at the pool (the life guards already recognize us, I think), which is our equivalent to the lake. Tennis lessons have begun, and this week, we'll see our middle child off to camp. Following that, our other daughter will have her week at Grandma's and Grandpa's and get to meet up with her cousin from Mississippi.

There's been a lot of running around, a lot of time in the van going here and there with the kids. I've put in some long days. But in the midst of it all, I've allowed myself to feel the peace that is so evidently present in my life at the moment. Despite the crazy schedule inherent in our household of seven, I realized several years ago that it was imperative I take care of myself in order to take care of my family. I've still found time to exercise and nourish myself in other ways, even with our change in routine.

The peace I feel isn't a surface kind of peace. There have been days thick with squabbling. Things are always a bit out of sorts at summer's beginning. The peace I feel is a deep-down-in-my-soul peace, one that tells me a lot of things are very right in my life at the moment. I don't take this for granted. It hasn't always been this way, and we never know what tomorrow will bring. But for right now, I feel whole. I love that I'm available to the kids -- this feels very right to me. Knowing I'm doing what's right for my family and for myself is a very good feeling. I know that I am very blessed. My husband and I are both working very hard right now to keep our family thriving, and I know that is a big contributor to this peace as well. My faith, which feels very vital at this point in time, is another factor that can't be discounted by any means. In fact, without it, all of these other elements would feel very flat indeed.

The kids are healthy, my husband has a good job that he enjoys, we have a roof over our heads, and I am working as well, putting time in the cracks wherever it fits -- a wonderful perk to being a freelance writer. No, we don't have a trip to Disneyworld or anywhere else exotic planned. But we have a firepit out back, and a few small trips to see family and friends planned. Soon, it will be time to gather up school supplies and head into another school year.

But I'm not there yet. I'm still breathing in, deeply, and back out again, content to be just where I am.

What brings you the greatest sense of deep-down peace in the summertime?

happy father's day 2010

From the files of Beverly Salonen, four years ago...

And a Father's Day poem from my friend, poet Shirley Vogler Meister, columnist for The Criterion, newspaper for the archdiocese of Indianapolis:

PARK PROMISE by Shirley Vogler Meister

Father strolls, smoke dangling
cloudlike from strong fingers.
I run, skip, twirl on the walk
to Forest Park, where golden
minnows dance 'neath waterfalls.
Pond-smells greet us and foam
froths on the pool. Quietly
we watch the fish scurrying when
playful pebbles disturb clouds
buoyed upon the water-mirror.
Dragonflies dart as father cuts
my angling twig, well stringed
but hookless: a fishing charade.
When I tire, we amble home.
"Traffic's bad; take my hand."
We inch across, I in silent
fear midst screeching brakes
and whirring wheels. A siren
wails; a hospital looms near:
"If I am hit, will I go there?"
"You can't be hit; you have my hand."
Trusting, I clutch it still
though he is gone.

faith fridays: don't look now but you're emanating light

SHINE!!!!

My mother is a card-giver. Sometimes she sends them for a special occasion, and with our family size we have many of those. Sometimes, she clips out a magazine article or cartoon and feels compelled to pass it on. Sometimes she sends one “just cuz.” Whatever the reason, I always pay attention to her cards because there’s nearly always a special message within them.

Recently, I received one with this message:

“Without even knowing it,
your faith is a shining light
touching those close to you
and even those who do not know your name.

That last line struck me, especially as a writer, author and blogger. I can’t, and don’t, always know the effects of my writing. A while back I came to a place of contentment about this: that the writing is up to me, and whom the writing touches and how (or whether it effects anyone at all) is largely up to God. I can’t even begin to comprehend how my words may or may not resonate with someone on a particular day. It depends, of course, on the recipient and his or her circumstances. All I can do is work on being the healthiest person I can be so that I can channel the very best thoughts and messages God has brought to my attention through His varied means.

This is the way I view writing. I see it as an extension of my faith, which is why I haven’t been able to successfully separate the two. I wouldn’t want to, really, but sometimes I am called to do that, especially when writing for secular publications. I also recognize that most people, faith-filled or not, don’t want to be beaten over the head with a message. So I try (though not always successfully, I’m sure) to offer up the message on my heart in the most gentle way possible. It is very hard to convince people by beating them over the head. That’s why Jesus spoke in parables. He relayed his message largely through stories. He didn’t mince words, but neither was it His mission to condemn. His mission was to love. That is what I want my mission to be as well, and I know I can do it much more effectively by shining rather than shouting.

Recently I've had a chance to observe a few other special people shining. Last night we attended the vigil service of my husband's former boss, Marguerite Mowry of Marguerite’s Music in Moorhead, MN. Marguerite became something of a legend in starting and operating a successful music business, the largest of its kind in the region. It was heartening hearing her customers and friends talk about her last night, telling of the many ways she shined brightly to them. Marguerite was very attentive to her customers, though she’d frisk them, too, if she thought they might be suspect. She had quite the sense of humor and seemed drawn in a special way to kids. She used to call my husband “Grumpy” because of his sunny disposition around customers. Anyone who knew her knew she was extraordinary.

Another friend who is in ill health is beginning to show signs that recovery may not happen. She’s now making some tough decisions as she faces whatever might be ahead. This friend is a particularly bright presence, and as a mother and friend, her shining had only begun, it seems. I’m still trying to process the thought that her light on earth might soon be diminished. I’m also looking for ways to help her shine while she still can, because I know she's not even close to being done with the message she's here to share.

We are all here on this earth for a purpose, and as I’m reminded so often, and have been again in a poignant way this weekend, our time is fleeting, like a mist, a vapor, according to the apostle James. “There’s but a heartbeat between you and eternity,” a pastor shared at a business luncheon I attended yesterday. “We should not assume that we’ll have tomorrow.”

These things coming together as they have in my life recently – the awareness of soul light (including my own) and my own impending earthly demise – make what I share all the more urgent. It also makes what I do to increase the intensity of my unique life-light all the more relevant.

What are your sunny summer plans? And by that I mean, what do you plan to do to increase the intensity of your brilliance capacity and output?

“Ye are the light of the world.
A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.
Neither do men light a candle,
And put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick;
And it giveth light unto all that are in the house.
Let your light so shine before men,
That they may see your good works,
And glorify your Father which is in heaven.” – Matthew 5:14-16

time with grandparents - college 6 (take a kid fishing day)

The "Take a Kid Fishing Day" is an annual event at Lake Minnewaska. Here, the kids are learning the ropes. Later, they received free fishing gear -- including rods/reels, some lures and a bait tub. Grandpa's at the helm, once again! (Wish Blogger could expand to accommodate these larger files!)

A few days earlier, Beth got to go by herself, following the little boys' turn before that:

There's lots of fishing to be had when you live near a lake!

Q4U: Do you have a favorite fishing memory?

writing wednesdays: learning from the ducks

We saw the cutest sight this morning when a mama duck led her babies across the street. We were absolutely fine being a tad bit late to our obligation to see to it that all of the ducks made it safely to the other side. But it wasn't easy for them!

Find out about our morning view of the ducks and what they can teach us about the writing life in today's "Writing "Wednesdays" post on Peace Garden Writer.

Quack Quack!

time with grandparents - college 5 (water fight)

You know your grandparents are awesome when...they give you permission to dump water on your siblings and cousins -- and even provide the means to do it!

mama mondays: the powerful effects of oxytocin (and why parents should care)

C.Commons: urban-science.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive

About halfway through my 12 years of breastfeeding, I became aware of the powerful effects of oxytocin, a hormone largely connected to the procreative capacities of the female, and how it was directing my life.

Not that I minded. In fact, of all the hormones that have affected me through the years, I’d consider oxytocin a favorite. If it were a drug, oxytocin would be my drug of choice.

Oxytocin has many functions, including the ability to cause the uterus to contract, to release breast milk, and to promote effective storage of a mother’s nutrients while also helping digestion. It also calms a mother by lowering her blood pressure and stimulates maternal attachment as well as mothering behaviors and maternal vigilance.

Many times through my nursing years, I had a keen awareness of how breastfeeding was contributing to my emotional health. Knowing more now, I credit oxytocin. I would even go so far as to say that oxytocin was largely responsible for several significant changes in my life: the decision to leave the traditional work force, our relocating to the Midwest, and being open to a larger family.

I'll explain why I believe this in a little bit. But for now, it's enough to know my nursing years changed me; or, rather, oxytocin changed me, or, at the very least, encouraged certain behaviors and decisions, several life-changing.

Thanks to Dr. Miriam Grossman, an author I introduced on Friday, I finally have a clearer understanding of why. In reading her second book, You’re Teaching My Children What?, I’ve learned more about this amazing hormone, and as a result, I’ve gained important information that every parent should know; information I'm certain will be crucial to me as I guide my children into and through their teen and young-adult years.

You see, one doesn’t have to be lactating to be affected by oxytocin. Some have referred to oxytocin as “the cuddle hormone.” It’s the reason, according to Grossman, that brain experts advise girls not to let a guy hug them unless they plan to trust him. Why? Because a serious embrace (at least twenty seconds in duration) can fire up the oxytocin production.

Grossman pointed to a study of prairie voles through which it was found that the voles’ propensity for choosing monogamous, lifelong mating is prompted by oxytocin acting on their brains. In contrast, the Montane vole, which has an oxytocin-resistant brain, tends to play the field.

In short, oxytocin promotes social bonds. That's why I feel those huge decisions I mentioned earlier were influenced in part by my lactating state. Oxytocin was encouraging me to settle in, to tend to my family above all else, to choose domesticity for the sake of my children.

But there are implications here beyond the raising of my brood. Parents listen up: even an act such as kissing is an intimate enough behavior to fuel oxytocin. Furthermore, oxytocin acts powerfully on the reward center, the same area that produces the euphoric effects of drugs like cocaine.

And here’s something related and slightly disconcerting. “While oxytocin is amping up the reward center and fueling attachment,” Grossman says, “it’s slowing things down elsewhere...de-activating the centers that mediate negative judgment, caution and fear.”

According to Grossman, oxytocin turns on attachment while turning off critical thinking. It sends a signal to the brain with the message: Now I’m with someone special. I can relax and trust this person. I can love him or her. And girls are particularly susceptible, because oxytocin works even more powerfully within them.

Grossman explains that after a while a girl’s brain may respond to a guy even without touch, due to the brain having been saturated with oxytocin. “The sight of him in the laundry room or cafeteria may be enough to stir those feelings of attachment.”

Of course, I happen to believe from a faith perspective that all of this is part of God’s design. The scientific evidence is amazing and points to a divine plan. When things happen in the right order, it is all as it should be, as it was meant to be. But if the bonding occurs prematurely, before critical thinking kicks in, the consequences can be devastating.

I don’t need to spell it out. You can let your imaginations go to the possible conclusions. I’m merely a conduit for important information that is not being disseminated in our schools as part of the sex education curriculum. Our children are being told about safer sex and encouraged to use condoms and the pill. They are not being taught so much about biology and how our bodies and brains were designed to work, and how, if we move things out of order or context, our lives can turn onto a regrettable path.

Oxytocin is a wonderful thing. I love oxytocin. It helped me settle into motherhood in a way I might not have otherwise. It kicks in whether you breastfeed or not, but it’s especially powerful in the nursing mother. I lived it, and I have no doubt it influenced my life’s path in a very profound way. It was, indeed, like a drug, natural and pleasant, and even had a healing effect on my life.

But after learning what I have with the help of Grossman, I am thinking more deeply about how this might play out in the lives of my children. I am praying that I can adequately teach them that oxytocin, like all good and helpful things, is meant to be released in a certain season of their lives, and that they will not regret waiting for that season to flower before opening themselves to its powerful effects.

Q4U: Are there other aspects of today’s sex education programs that are being overlooked?

time with grandparents - collage 4 (morning adventure)

A spring morning, a creek, a bridge (with troll?), bugs, wildflowers and who knows what else?

faith fridays: theophobia and scientific evidence of God

Last week, I was immersed in two books by Dr. Miriam Grossman. A section in her book Unprotected revealed a new word to me: theophobia. Theophobia, as she describes it, "is a name for the irrational antagonism that psychology has for religion."

This is important, especially for those of us who have children who have, or may someday, be helped by a psychologist, as well as for those of us adults who have, or will. It's important that we're aware that a pervasively negative view toward religion exists in this field, and that discretion should be used in the search for a good psychologist, whose guidance could make all the difference in your or your child's emotional and spiritual health.

Dr. Grossman knows it all too well. She's lived and breathed theophobia through her job as a psychiatrist, primarily on the college campus of one of America's most prestigious universities, where she's worked most of her profession. Yes, she is helping shape the newest crop of young adults in our society, and so are her many colleagues who fall into the category of being "theophobic."

Don't believe her? Consider this: (p.44) "A search in the indexes of several recently published, authoritative psychology and psychiatry textbooks...reveal no entries for church, religion, prayer or God." When such textbooks do discuss religion, Grossman points out, it is often with a focus on religious pathology.

"A past president of the American Psychological Association called on psychologists to help get rid of organized religion," she wrote, quoting the article, 'It doesn't matter which religion, they are all patriarchal. And that is one of the major sources of social injustice in our society and in our world.'"

That's just part of the evidence to back her claim. But I don't want to take too much more of your time today, so let's assume she's right here (and I believe she is). Skip ahead to p. 48, where Grossman shares this:

"As much as mental health professionals and organizations may shun issues of faith due to theophobia, 75 percent of college students are on a spiritual search and seek answers to existential questions. Sounds like a large population but it shouldn’t come as a surprise; it’s consistent with research indicating that neurologically, we may be designed to search for meaning.

"You probably haven’t heard about it. Two neuroscientists at the University of Pennsylvania used radioactive imaging to study the brain’s capacity for spiritual experience. They scanned the heads of skilled Tibetan meditators and Franciscan nuns following a period of intense religious contemplation, and discovered an unusual pattern of brain activity. As peak moments approached, the circuits responsible for orientation in time and space fell quiet. The area of the brain that informs us where we end, and the rest of the world starts, was turned off. These moments, according to the subjects, were accompanied by a rush of positive emotion. They were moments of 'being connected to all of creation,' of 'a sense of timelessness and infinity' and 'a tangible sense of the closeness of God and a mingling with Him.' The researchers suggest that the brain is equipped from birth with a capacity – even an urge –for religious experience, and they call the study of this capacity 'neurotheology.'

"They even admit:

Our research has left us no choice but to conclude that mystics may be on to something, that the mind’s machinery of transcendence may in fact be a window through which we can glimpse the ultimate realness of something that is truly divine. This conclusion is based on deductive reason, not on religious faith – it is a terrifically unscientific idea that is ironically consistent with careful, conventional science.

At this point, Grossman argues that "psychology had better get its act together."

"The irrational avoidance of religion in therapeutic work is not only unethical, it’s old. It has no place in this century, where single-photon emission computed tomography identifies 'neuronal spirituality circuits' and produces color photos of a brain connecting with God.

This was absolutely fascinating to me, not because it was surprising, but because this is evidence, scientific evidence, to back up what I have believed - or known, rather - most of my life.

God is not a figment of our imaginations. Prayer is not futile. The Holy Spirit is not make-believe. Jesus isn't a farce.

There's an order to this world, and those of us who "have seen and believed" have, on average, happier, more satisfying lives.

It's not fair, to anyone really, that we so easily discount the presence of God in this world, not to mention the next. I know I'm likely preaching to the choir here, since my readers are largely Christian, or at least God-believing. But are we aware of how our faith is being compromised in the field of medicine, especially psychiatry and psychology?

More and more, science is proving what so many seek to disprove: that God exists. Acknowledging God as our loving, omnipotent creator improves our lives exponentially.

Have you ever experienced the reality of theophobia? In what context?

time with grandparents - collage 3

More views from the lake, as promised, this time, a swimming day w/pontoon picnic.

writing wednesdays: something lovely for you

Just had to share a little floral beauty before pointing you in the direction of where it's really at today. Those of you who have been following me a while know how jazzed I get over flowers, especially those that spring up in my back-yard garden every year.

Here's my favorite, a shimmer of purple that flashed at me earlier from a quiet spot near a pine tree. It was dampened by rain but its purple is so rich, its bloom at its peak, I'm sure. It reminds me of a Spanish dancer; feminine and deliciously graceful.

Also hidden, but not enough to escape my gaze, was this pretty little primrose:

My son and I admired the little bud nearby that soon will be opening up to the world as well:

This iris was a bit more confident than the others, it seemed, shining as it did in the afternoon sun:

The rain did a number on this yellow iris, but I wanted to give it a moment in the spotlight before it wilted away forever. The "beards" of the iris never fail to enthrall me. This one reminds me of a fuzzy, yellow caterpillar climbing into a sleeping bag:

Finally, I don't know what this is called but it's a tiny ground flower that came up near the shrubs. I love the way the leaf, which doesn't belong to the flower, is acting as a green backdrop against the gorgeous hot pink of the petals:

That was just the warm-up. Now, for someone really lovely, please visit Peace Garden Writer today to meet one of my favorite writer friends, children's author Jean L.S. Patrick of Mitchell, South Dakota. See you over there!

time with grandparents - another collage

As I mentioned yesterday, the photo collages that come forth from our children's visits to their grandparents' Minnesota lake town are way too great to keep to myself, so I'll be sharing them here until there's no more to share. I apologize in advance if this feel like "Salonen kids image overkill." My intent is not to bore my readers with visuals of my youngest three "petals," but to share the delightful handiwork of my wonderful mother-in-law, Beverly. Each summer, she and Daddy Troy's father, Roger, invite our kids into their home for week intervals. It's a win-win for everyone. The kids have time with their grandparents alone, the grandparents have a chance to bond with their grandkids, the siblings enjoy a break from the regular dynamics of five-in-a-pod, and the parents revel in the reprieve from some of the regular stressors of raising up five lively young'ens.
Today, enjoy this collage from the sandy shores of Lake Minnewaska!

Q4U: When was the last time you felt sand between your toes?

mama mondays: an unusual start to summer

Over the next month, I'm going to feature photos my mother-in-law took this past week; the week our youngest three children stayed with their paternal grandparents in their Minnesota lake town. These are just too great to keep hidden in my computer. I feel deeply grateful for their generous hands and hearts. The daily reports were so heartening, and I have never had such a peaceful transition into summer vacation. Our oldest two were so busy hanging out with friends that I found myself IN MY HOME ALONE on more than one occasion. This is a rare occurrence for me. I had a heightened awareness that not everyone lives in this super-intense mode that generally comprises my daily life. I also got a taste of what life will be like someday, when the little voices and high demands have dissipated for good.

It was nice. It was a gift. I could breathe. But I knew it was temporary, and that's part of the reason I enjoyed it so much. The other part was because I knew the kids were having a ball, doing things I would not have been able to do with them, getting a chance to know their grandparents better without the influence of their parents to muddle things. It seemed to have been a win-win for everyone. But even as I embraced that wonderful gift, I did not, for a moment, wish that things could be different, not anytime soon. The life we live here in the Salonen household can be stressful; it is not a life for wimps. There are many complex dynamics at work, lots of needs. We've got everything from pre-K meltdowns to teenage flare-ups going on. But I never thought that life with a larger family would be easy. I expected it would take everything I have and then some, and that has turned out to be true. But this past week, I got a glimpse of the peace that awaits us someday, and it was a beautiful glimmer of how our lives will be when that season comes.

I was gone when the chicks were all back in the nest. When I arrived home this morning, I was greeted by a small voice, "Hi Mom," which was music to my ears, and then, throughout the day, the hugs came, along with the, "I missed yous." There really is something to the saying, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Sometimes, we need to take a break from those we love to truly appreciate just how blessed we are by their presence. I'm sure that will wear off soon enough, and I'll need another dose of separation to get it back. For now, I'm enjoying the feeling of having everyone in one place. This isn't the easy way, but it's the way we know, the way that helps us grow, and I'm quite fulfilled by our busy, crazy lives together, even though it's rarely easy and only occasionally peaceful.

I'll be back throughout the week with more photos from "beyond the Peace Garden."

Q4U: What is your favorite summer memory?

faith fridays: suffering through decaf days

Yesterday I found out how dependent my body is on caffeine. I gave it up in order to take part in a study that requires my body to be free of it for the weekend, and the day-long headache that ensued felt like punishment for all those mochas and colas I’ve enjoyed this past year. I had things to do – important things – but I was forced to set aside everything that required mental energy in order to just get through.

By the end of the day, I was toast. Unable to function, I went to bed earlier than usual. All I could really do was eek out a few prayers. But how glad I was for those memorized prayers! They required so little thought. A mantra can be a comfort in such times. 

By morning, the headache seemed to have dissipated. It was as if my head had been bathed in the prayers I’d requested from others and those I’d sent up myself.

During that time of misery, I was reminded of what physical suffering can feel like, how it limits us. And I remembered the book I’d finished a while back, Never Give Up, which explores suffering. In part because of that book, instead of fighting my headache through the night, at some point I let go and just accepted what was happening to me.

In the book, the author, John Janaro, who has suffered with numerous physical ailments, several chronic, says, “Sometimes I feel like shrinking beneath the covers of my bed. I feel tied to a wall with tight cords from head to foot.” He adds that he often feels as if he’s “a burden to those who are stuck with the obligation of having to be bothered with me.”

I felt that yesterday. I was not all that fun to be around, I’ll admit that right now. And I didn’t like the feeling of bringing others down.

But he goes on to challenge his own thoughts, saying that if his value as a human being were measured by the way he feels, he would find life impossible. He then poses the question of wondering how people live without God, especially given the human condition of suffering. “Why go on dragging yourself around like an old dried-up piece of meat in a world that has no meaning beyond physical vitality?” he asks.

“What amazes me is that people who do not know God do have the energy and desire to go on living,” Janaro continues. “I think the only way to account for this is the fact that there is a God who cares personally for everyone – even those who do not yet know him or who think they have rejected him.”

And there’s more.

“God plants the seeds of hope in every human heart. If there were nothing but this life, then despair would be the logical human position, even for the healthiest of people. Yet the human person has to be driven to despair, as if it were against nature. People endure unimaginable misery and keep going. They do not feel that there is any reason to carry on, and yet they do. They have a sense that there is more than what they feel.”

I find these thoughts very profound. Yes, I’ve come a long way from caffeine to this, but it was the caffeine that led me here. Going without caffeine has reminded me of my limitations, that sometimes I'm going to move through this life in a fog and I cannot do it well alone.

The world dishes out neon signs blinking our limitations. Every single day we are reminded of them. They come in many forms. But as Christians, we are moving toward something else – toward a life without any of the limitations we know today.

Last night, just before I shut my eyes, I received an email from my friend Mary on my cell phone. “Ouch! on the caffeine withdrawal,” she said. “I can only offer sympathies from here. I won't write much. I don't want to make any extra noise for you.” She ended with a brief update, a maternal admonition to drinks lots of water, and a signing off that made me smile: “'Take care,' she whispered."

A little while later, my husband reached over and rubbed my back before he drifted off.

This is how we endure suffering. We allow those who love us to reach out, to whisper when needed, and then, when we see that someone else is suffering, hopefully, we’ll do the same for them.

How does God’s love manifest itself through the actions of the people in your life?

writing wednesdays: my dual identity

I'm over at Peace Garden Writer today talking about my dual-identity life. The column you'll find there was first printed yesterday in The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead newspaper as part of its Tuesday "Parenting Perspectives" offering.

Have a peaceful Hump Day!

PGM

report from the lake: fried fish eggs and other adventures

Our youngest three ended up staying at their grandparents', where we all converged yesterday for the Memorial Day holiday (see photos). They will remain there until Saturday afternoon. It's sure been a nice way to begin summer vacation, certainly less harried than usual. Indeed, my typically tenuous transition with five home all day every day has been softened by the grandparents' generosity. While I welcome the quiet, it's also caused me to think how boring our lives would be if we'd taken the advice some doled out earlier on in our parenting and just stuck with the first two -- our "perfect" little family of one boy, one girl. Don't get me wrong. We're enjoying having just our oldest two here this week. But it's not normal for us and I feel the void through a lack of liveliness that, I guess, is the norm, the life to which we've become accustomed. It helps that they are in wonderful hands and having adventures they would not be having here in Fargo.

I'm going to move aside now and let Grandma share how things are going in their little Minnesota lake town. (The following is an excerpt from an email I received from her this evening.) 

"I think it was a huge success. We kept the kids busy and they seemed to enjoy themselves very much. Rog went fishing with the boys in the am. Beth and Grandma B went to Target to purchase her BD camera. She was delighted with her purchase. Grandma got her a case, battery charger with rechargeable batteries and a 2 gig memory card. She should be set!!! Hope she takes good care of it now. Those digital cameras really need tender loving care. She caught on to it right away. I think it will be very user friendly. It honestly has a setting that recognizes if the person is smiling or not, and won't take the picture until the smile appears...

"The boys seemed to like fishing and ate the fish that Rog fried for supper. Nick really liked the fried fish eggs. Of course, Grandpa had to bribe them each with a dollar if they would try them. Nick ate more than one. Have great pictures of that to share.

"We took the kids on the pontoon over to the swimming beach for them to play in the sand and get wet. We stayed there until they tired out. We put suntan lotion on, Mom. Missed their ears - they got a little red and their cheeks a little rosy, but nothing serious. That lotion wears off in the water quickly - have to keep reapplying. They had fun - took lots of pictures of that too.

"After supper Beth and I went to get a movie. Before the movie watching they all did their duties. We had a clothes folding party on the living room floor. Each child picked out their own clothes and then folded them. That little Nick is a good clothes folder. We had that task done in no time. Then they each took a bath/shower and cleaned up from the days activities. Now they are watching a movie. Its' been a great day.

"Love, Mom"