all creatures great and small

Living on a farm has its advantages in the spring time. My little animal-lovers get to witness nature in a mostly undisturbed setting.  Though I am somewhat squeamish at heart, I try not to let on in front of my children. Shhhh... don't tell. I fool them into believing I am not afraid of these crawly things in hopes that someday they will not let fear of touching an animal 1/100th of their size rule over them.

One day back in March, thousands of tadpoles appeared in the small spring-fed pond at the bottom of our hill (picture above). I did a good mom kind of thing and let my children catch and raise a quartet of them in one of my favorite glass vases on the kitchen counter. I assumed the tadpoles would take around three weeks to grow legs and lose their tails. Not sure where I came up with this number, but I figured that kittens can be adopted away from their mothers after 6 weeks, and tadpoles are far more simple creatures, so it couldn't take too long.

Wrong. Three months later a few of them had hind legs, but they all remained in the tadpole category. Their bowl was absolutely putrid because we had discovered the hard way that tadpoles are "fragile". I was afraid to clean it lest they die after all this time on prime kitchen counter space, and my kids would want to start over with new ones.

After all of that watching and waiting, metamorphosis did eventually occur. Despite the long tadpole stage, the end process was alarmingly fast as one tadpole at a time made its final change into a Pacific Treefrog. In a 24-hour period a tadpole would sprout front legs, lose its tail, and then did its best to hop right out of the bowl. After the first frog was found on the kitchen floor, we paid more attention to the others as they approached frog-hood.

Goodbye frogs that took FOREVER to grow. You can fend for yourself in our backyard now.

After all of the observing for months I couldn't believe how fast the final miracle happened. Perhaps the long stage of tadpole development really was about preparation for that final miracle. Even the smallest among God's creatures is complex in its own way. And perhaps metamorphosis can occur in our own lives if we are patient enough to see it through.

Without further ado, here is glimpse (seriously, only a tiny segment) of the other animal encounters we have had over the past few months. Cecil Frances Alexander's poem says it best...

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

All things wise and wonderful,

The Lord God made them all.

(Rescued baby hummingbird)

Each little flower that opens,

Each little bird that sings,

He made their glowing colours,

He made their tiny wings.

(Great Blue Heron)

The rich man in his castle,

The poor man at his gate,

God made them, high or lowly,

And ordered their estate.

(Wild male turkey displaying his feathers. So much more magnificent in real life.)

The purple-headed mountain,

The river running by,

The sunset, and the morning,

That brightens up the sky;

(Swallowtail Butterfly)

The cold wind in the winter,

The pleasant summer sun,

The ripe fruits in the garden,

He made them every one.

(Gopher snake that doubles as a styling necklace)

The tall trees in the greenwood,

The meadows where we play,

The rushes by the water,

We gather every day;--

(Snake skin as tall as Annike. Hopefully the owner is out eating our gophers.)

He gave us eyes to see them,

And lips that we might tell,

How great is God Almighty,

Who has made all things well. 

-- Cecil Frances Alexander

circa 1848

Oh yes. Can't forget the chyrsalis hanging in the doorway after nap.

mother's prayer

We started off the summer on a bad note. Within an hour of awakening on Annike's first day home I was angry, frustrated, impatient, and found myself using a military tone with my children. Of course, this is because they were whining, arguing, ignoring me, and generally being unpleasant. It may be well-deserved, but this is not how I want the summer to go.

I am morally against planning up every moment of the summer because I sincerely believe in the health of unstructured time. Unplanned hours are when children learn to be creative, when they exercise skills I didn't know they had, and when they first practice self-motivation. Their future world has plenty of structure and they need freedom to simply be kids. But I also don't want to spend the next few months dreading the way we will spend our days together. (See last summer's post here... I am still striving to avoid survival mode!)

Not wanting to fall into a cycle of frustrated, negative, parenting this summer, today started with a prayer:

A Mother's Prayer for Summer

Dearest Lord of All Seasons,

Bless our time of togetherness.

May I treasure up today for tomorrow it will be gone.

May we strike the delicate balance between rest and activity.

May our unstructured hours be fruitful in the ways that matter most.

May our boredom be fought with creativity.

May our whining be fought with gratitude.

May our arguing be fought with appreciation.

May our selfishness be fought with perspective.

Guide us as we choose our words, our hearts, our attitudes.

Together life is better, we laugh longer, we love stronger.

Help us view each day a unique opportunity.

The lesson isn't just for them. It also is for me.

Amen.

I am also re-convicted to be consistent with our family breakfast devotional time. My friend's blog at Not My Own once recommended the VeggieTales "365 Very Veggie Devos", and I must agree that it feels just right for small children. The short and simple lessons are about sharing, telling the truth, being kind, obeying - all very applicable to the little group listening. If you aren't currently using something you like, I recommend it!

We also started a summertime sticker chart with the goal of keeping us intentional and providing alternatives to television as a time-filler. I made Annike's first, and wrote the title at the top:

"Annike's Summer Chart".  

Annike was participating, and as I moved on to the second chart, she suggested I write:

"Sommer's Annike Chart."

Hmmm. A bit confusing when you name a child after a season.

So this is how our summer will go. It is never too late to start over, set some better goals, and PRAY for the Lord to bless our endeavors!

(This video made me laugh. I hope you are not viewing it sideways. The narrative is not important, but the joy of watching my three kids fill up the swing set is. Anyone want to join us at the park?!)

tribute to kindergarten

School is out! Summer is in!

Annike flourished throughout this year of Kindergarten. It is shocking to think that a year ago she did not want to go anywhere without her blanket. She did not know many of her lower case letters, or any math. She has learned so much over the past year that she even initiated writing and illustrating her own "books" that she liked to take in to read to her class. Ha!

Throughout the year our budding zoologist incorporated her love of animals into any activity possible. While her classmates were painting rainbows, Annike painted sea otters diving for urchins in a kelp forest. During a popsicle stick building craft, most of the kids made a boat while Annike constructed a lizard. At least she has a clear understanding of what she likes!

Mostly, we are pleased about who she is becoming as a person and a friend, with a growing awareness of others. A few comments we have heard about her recently include that she is a cheerleader, truly rooting for her friends... that she is not competitive with the other girls, giving them sincere compliments... and her teacher says that somehow she manages to stay out of the drama that sometimes arises between girls in the classroom setting. That means more to us as her parents than any academic accomplishment.

That being said, here are a few of my favorites from the last few months. Some completed at school, some completed at home. All of them inspired by her love of learning and love of animals. I will let them speak for themselves.

Below, our tribute to kindergarten:

Kelp forest 

"Look at the elephant. He is picking up water with his trunk."

"I love all my stuffed animals."
Notice green blankee is drawn on the far left.

"The flamingo is pink and he's drinking."

Forest scene

Probably close to 20 of these books have been created over the year. All animal-themed.

Savannah Book with inside pages

Sea Life book with inside pages

Notes like these are beginning to appear around the house.

Invitation to a "pardee" (party) where we will dance and pretend to be fish.
Can't wait.

Poor baby Karsten. She loves him too.

Left for me on a post-it.

Another season, gone with the wind. Thank you, kinder years, for all that you have given our daughter. A fresh breeze blowing into a girl who will be a life long learner.

Good-bye Kindergarten. Hello 1st grade!


Aside: There have been issues with people trying to make comments on this blog. I believe I have fixed the problem. If you don't have a google account, you can leave a comment in the "anonymous" category and be sure to include your name. Thanks!

what makes it vacation

Vacation with three little ones has been whittled down to its simplest form. No sleeping in, no fancy restaurant dinners, no expensive or involved events, no schedule to follow. Just swimming and family time. We eat P.B.J.s and mac and cheese out of the condo kitchen, take naps when we need them, and all the in-between time find us swimming in the pool or at the beach.

It is special because we are together. It is restful because we have low expectations for accomplishing anything outside of being together. It is vacation because Daddy is around ALL the time, thus greatly increasing the adult to child ratio.

Here are a few highlights from our recent trip to Kauai...

Thanks to a 3-hour time change, we made it to the beach for a lot of beautiful sunrises. Thanks to the balmy weather and deserted beach, clothing was optional (for the kids, at least.)

Our kids become better friends every time we take a trip together. It is a beautiful thing to witness and makes my heart feel full.

Annike learned to swim and snorkel on this trip. She can name every fish she saw. We were so proud of her bravery in the ocean.

Daddy enjoyed catching lizards, and Sommer enjoyed holding them.

This little guy discovered that his new favorite food is sand. If you look closely, you will see the sand goatee in the majority of his photos.

Happy Mother's Day to me!  How did I get so lucky to have these three precious kids making me cards, drawing me pictures, giving me back scratches, and whining for me to feed them on Mother's Day?

Vacations are a priceless time of memory making. We never forget how much we love each other, but it is good to be reminded how much we LIKE each other.

celebrate music

Today's post is just a little celebration of life! Annike's first piano recital was this past Saturday, and I have never been more proud of someone who played 30 seconds of "Skip to my Loo".

I joined her up on stage for the duet part, and as a confidence booster. Though the last time I played piano in front of someone may have been in the first grade. Violin is my instrument.

We want to have children who play musical instruments and have a musical skill they can use for the rest of their lives. A year ago we started Annike on the violin. I soon discovered that children resist doing things that are only Mom's idea. Both lessons and practice met with so much resistance that I gave up and let her choose something else.

I couldn't seem to find any, but my mother has quite a few pictures of me playing violin just like this - in my underwear. She comes by it honestly.

Now that I am a mother myself, I can better appreciate what a HUGE undertaking it was for my mother to get all three of her children (myself, my brother, and my sister) to play a stringed instrument from the time we were around 5, until we left the house at 18ish. When we left, each one of us had mastered our chosen instrument well enough to have it for life. We recently came across this picture of me at one of my own recitals around the age of 10.

I well remember having a bad attitude about practicing and playing in general. What child would rather do work than play outside? As I encourage Annike to pursue her musical talents, I try to remember that even though I did not always want to do it, I have never held it against my own mother for encouraging and enabling me to play. Even at a young age I understood what a great gift she was giving me. As it turns out, that gift paid a majority of my way through college, and has the potential for side jobs and fun for me for the rest of my life.

Thank you, Mom! Though I can't return the favor, I can pass on the legacy of implementing, studying, and celebrating music in our family.

i saw the light

It is tradition on Easter for our entire church to come together for one service at the Civic Center in heart of downtown Santa Cruz. In the heart of a city full of people that seem unreachable, desperate, unwholesome, and dark. Yet, even in the heart of this city, there is Light.

As the band started up on this reverent Resurrection Sunday, I glanced around the room at the thousands of believers surrounding me, singing "This Little Light of Mine." Tears welled in my eyes as I had the distinct sense that I was a tiny part of something so much bigger than myself. Sometimes tears are the only language of the spirit within us. When our mind can't find the words, our heart can.

It happened, too, about a month ago. It was one of those Sunday mornings when I had been wondering why we had bothered coming to church because we arrived late with three cranky kids and I spent most of the service shushing them and passing out snacks or crayons. At the end of the service was an extended period of singing and I was finally able to engage. Despite my familial chaos, in those last minutes of church God laid a heavy burden on me for the lady sitting next to our family, listening but not singing. I felt an urgency to meet her before she rolled out with the masses. We connected instantly as if she had been my friend for a long time. As it turns out, it was her first experience in church ever. The next week I saw her again, we prayed together, and I had the privilege of giving her her first Bible. I will remember that moment my whole life.

I don't think for a minute that the experience had anything to do with me. God had been working in this woman's life for a LONG time and I happened to cross her path at one particular place in her spiritual journey. I was so wrapped up in my own garbage I don't think I would have noticed this gal if the Spirit of God hadn't laid it heavily upon my heart. Both Sundays meeting with her left me humbled with the realization that life is so much bigger than me and my little myopic life. I can't help but wonder if all of that garbage with my cranky kids was an effort to distract me from being a part of the bigger picture.

On a cross, two thousand years ago, a man died leaving his family and friends distraught in their loss. The picture was small and personal, affecting a crowd in a city in a land far away. Then the resurrection. A tragic event suddenly became so much bigger than the emotions of the people involved. It affected all people across all generations for the rest of time. The bigger story changed the world.

We are a part of that bigger story and the Light that changed the world.

Happy Easter from my family to yours!

firstfruits

"Bring the best of the firstfruits of your soil to the house of the LORD your God..."  

Exodus 23:19

There was a lightly attended morning convocation service I enjoyed during college if I had time between classes. One Friday morning, a guest speaker whose name I do not recall and whose face I would not recognize, shared a challenging story about his own journey with God because of a commitment he made to read his Bible every day for a year. The idea was to read anything, short or lengthy, so long as the Bible was opened and the date was recorded in a journal as a form of accountability.

It seemed a simple enough commitment, with a rewarding enough outcome, that I took up the challenge. I didn't exactly get all 365 dates of that year in my journal, but it was the first time in my life I had engaged in regular Bible reading and quiet times with God, and it was life-changing.

I consider that decision to be one of the dramatic turning points in my testimony, transforming me almost overnight into a woman pursuing solid food instead of milk (Hebrews 5:12-14). The commitment also turned me into a journaler, though I am sure no one who reads this blog will be surprised to learn I process my thoughts by writing them! I continued in this pattern of setting aside quiet time, with my Bible and journal in hand, on a mostly-daily basis for many years.

Then I had kids.

The change was gradual at first. However, recently it has become obvious that the main obstacle between my Bible and me is that there is no such thing as QUIET TIME. Quiet now means that the volume in the house is such that I can hear the thoughts in my own head because the little voices are talking to each other instead of me. Time is what I use to cook dinner or empty the dishwasher or move toys from the living room back into the bedroom. Awakening early ends up awakening the others in the house early as well. Actual quiet time is a rare enough occasion that when it occurs I become immediately anxious about how to fill it... should I finish the project I started 3 weeks ago? should I sweep up the crumbs left from dinner last Wednesday? should I take a nap? return a phone call? pay bills? check my email?...
Should I read my Bible?

It is a daily battle for me to find time for anything that doesn't involve six small, enthusiastic, but not-so-helpful hands, let alone quiet time that belongs to me and God alone. Yet, it is God who first invented the idea of motherhood. He put this love and desire for children deep within me. He designed the whole of mankind to prosper through the affection and nurture of a mother. He endorses and embraces my role as mother. He intimately knows each busy, noisy, detail of my day, and still longs to meet me somewhere, anywhere, on a daily basis.

He is not asking too much. Even in my busiest seasons He has never asked me to give Him something I don't have. He asks only for the firstfruits of what I do have. In this case, He is asking for the firstfruits of my time.

"Bring the best of the firstfruits of your soil to the house of the LORD your God..." 

Exodus 23:19

Literally, the firstfruits are the first and best harvest of a crop. The ancients were asked to give to the Lord the first and the best of what they had grown to survive, trusting that He would ultimately provide all they needed.

Time has always felt like something I need to survive. I cling to it tightly, selfishly, with anxious ownership over how I want to distribute it. There has been, and always will be, something more pressing to do than reading my Bible during any free or quiet time. In my moments of struggle with what to do, how to divide, where to give, I try to remember that the time was never mine to begin with. It is a gift from God.

Pursuing God and Biblical wisdom has come to look different than it did during my childless days. It is not as quiet. It is not as focused. Yet, it can still be a regular pursuit. Perhaps pursuing Him involves a greater sacrifice of time than ever before. But the reward is sweet. He asks for the firstfruits of my time, promising that as I give it to Him, so will He provide for me in all the ways I need.