cumulus

not sure why, but cumulus clouds evade me. they are the puffy, fluffy kind that look like piles of soft cotton...and where they live, it is always sunny.

Hmmm. I am not always sunny. In fact, last night I was told I was sarcastic, with a dry sense of humour. It kind of stung. That makes me sound more like a cirrus cloud...comprised of ice crystals...curled lips of criticism. truth hurts.

Yesterday was one of "those" days. The kind where the sharpness of my tounge sliced the bluest of skies and, in true cumulonimbus fashion, thundered down upon my umbrella-less children until they were, themselves, raining a torrent of tears.

the type of day that leaves me in a puddle of self-pity and regret.

Cumulus clouds like to constantly change their shape. Sounds familiar.

they aren't that far from the ground, either ... personality application, anyone?

Today, I called my husband for homeschool help. He suggested I start over...from the beginning...and while it was hard, I think I reclaimed some serious ground.

Clouds aren't always ready to drop rain...sometimes it's cleansing snow.

how we shop for christmas

a while back I was on a loop that sent me emails about homeschooling boys. It was filled with tons of practical, funny, and just down-to-earth truth about raising kids...especially the boy kind. While this particular nugget of wisdom is not gender specific, I wanted to share it because it has made a huge difference in our celebrations as a family, and we ALL loved each other up in the process. Here goes:

Purchase only 3 gift types per person, corresponding to the gifts the magi gave...

gold ... wrapped in gold if you choose. this gift is a lavish show of your love

frankenscence ... wrapped in white. this gift is a spiritual gift, meant to encourage and inspire the soul

myhrr ... wrapped in brown. this is a "body" gift, like the incense given.

( perfume, jammies and slippers etc )

I loved the simplicity of the colours under the tree, and we all loved the narrowing down of the "what" to buy, as well as the paring down in expenses. It brought so much meaning to Christmas instead of random shopping.

Try it for yourself!

why?

My husband just emailed me from work to let me know that Lorrie passed away yesterday. www.homeschoolblogger.com/grisoniranch/



My heart just cannot believe it, and yet I know it is very real to those who knew and loved her

why?

Still, I know they are thankful...so am I. I can only imagine.

still (on my birthday)

last night my husband came home a little early ( always a treat! ) and, asked me to greet him at the door, please ( I know...I am working on this ). So I willingly went to see him and, to my surprise, after hearing him say " happy birthday " he proceeded to open his coat revealing a darling little 7 week old kitten!

Neal had seen the "free kittens" sign on the way in to work that morning ( are kittens every really free by the way? ).

We had been discussing the possibilities for a while, but had not acted as our current cat has some, ahem, "issues".

She was the worst one last night.

The wee boy we named Silas slept peacefully between us while our psycho Louise popped up from under the bed like a jack-in-the-box gone wrong at hourly intervals, standing straight in the air, hissing and scaring the daylights out of all of us! It was like a bad movie, only I couldn't return it unwatched, and may have to relive it to boot.

Neal also came home with exactly the same hairdryer I had purchased myself earlier that afternoon...after almost 13 years of marriage we are starting to think a little too much alike! I'll return mine today. It's the thought that counts.

Slicing up my requested black forest birthday cake revealed yet another surprise...it was cheesecake inside, not the traditional chocolate. Neal was initally concerned, but, how could cheescake ever be wrong?

After dinner, he accompanied me to a worship night I had specifically taken time off of Pollyanna rehearsals to attend. I was so excited to be singing again after many months of being "missing in action" due to conflicts with the play. I could hardly wait. Little did I know, the biggest surprise of the day was to be the Lord's message to us. Father's thoughts, though not expected, were very clear to all who were present...still. Be still. Test Me in this. Listen to me in the stillness.

I don't know about you, but I am not always the best at waiting, and being still.

I was a live mannequin this weekend for a five hour stretch. Obviously there were breaks ( like the break we took to benefit the scared, crying toddler who did not like our "game" ) but it was the stillness I tried to capture. I was asking Father to speak to me. I did not want the standing still to just be a production promotion. I wanted to believe that the Lord could reveal Himself to me wherever I was, in whatever I was doing, if I would only ask.

It took Father 4hrs and 45mins to get through to me...

I love you, daughter.

Just what I needed, and when I thought it was too late.



Watermark said it best, and I felt father asking me to sing it over the people gathered last night ( though it took some convincing )

still, I wanna be still, let me be ok with the quiet in my heart, oh,

still, let me be still, and know that You are God, and You're always enough, shut my mouth, crush my pride, give me the tears of a broken life ... still.

so, today, I am going to be still...and listen.

with outstretched hands

I've heard it before, if God seems far away, guess who moved.

I'm not convinced.

Look at the Isrealites. They got 40 years for being whiners. Besides the fact that I complain on a regular basis and still eat way more than manna each day, am I supposed to believe that they had "unhappy hearts" for the whole time? With no love from Daddy?
How about Moses and the many other prophets of old who sought the Lord,of whom it is written: God remained silent. Did they somehow become yesterday's flavour of the month?

Or take Abraham. How long before the child actually came that he longed for ... was promised? How come he never actually saw the fulfillment of what he was specifically told he would? Did Father forget what he had declared?

Why was this man born blind? Was it a result of his own sins or those of his parents?

I love that.

I think of my friends back home who have a beautiful daughter who, for lack of a medical term on my part, has "blotches" of very dark brown, hairy skin that covers most of one side of her face. They have prayed. That is putting it mildly. I remember calling the Mother one day to tell her I had dreamed she was holding her child and someone reached out with a healing hand and it was done. Apparantly I am not the only one who has dreamed this, down to exact details, and yet...

Are we all lacking in faith?

How about my Mom. She married a great guy and then spent an agonizing 39 years praying that he would stop smoking and drinking and turn his life over to our Saviour. Almost 40 years of the same request...really...can you imagine? My brother and I surrendered to the Lord at an early age, so why two blessings and not three for this prayer warrior. Why two blessings but one curse, if you will. Sure, my Daddy knows and serves the Lord now, but why so long...an unequal yoke... so was she being punished?

so many questions I'm dying to ask, am I moving too slow?, am I going too fast?I don't wanna miss it when it walks through my door

Will it look like I want it...will it leave me wanting more?



*** I'm fascinated by the way You look at me, and I am enraptured, fall in love so easily...well I , I'm captivated, oh the things You let me see, and I, I have been captured by the Love that lives in me.



Well, is it true that my prayers can change Your heart? I want to know fully, but I only know in part. Just want the reason before I hear the rhyme, would I know it if I saw it...would I follow every time?

***

How can I ever truly understand...my life, my being, all formed by Your own hand...and if I listen, will I really hear Your heart? Will I know Your direction, will I hear it from the start?

***

You know what I really love? I love a Daddy who can take it all, and still love me.

barf, or God has a sense of humour

gonna be absent for a while ...

son #2 went without supper tonight, and his cheeks were pretty red.

As we were tucking the boys into bed, I commented on how tired they must be on account of their having camped with Cub Scouts on the weekend. suddenly my husband decides to remember " oh, yah...Evan did say something about one of the kids puking a bunch of times ".

great.

No sooner do we get to the couch downstairs when we hear the call ...

I puked!!!

so I call my best sister and cancel our shared birthday plans for tomorrow.

think I'll just go to bed early tonight.

happy birthday, tomorrow, to me :)

walking conviction, the song

tara ... sorry it took me so long to let you know the lyrics. I think you will find yourself without any commentary. ( to my best sisters ... love you both! )



I wanna be a walking conviction You're filling me like some kind of addiction

I wanna be fact and not fiction Help me be...a walking conviction



She's standing tall beside me all her children in tow

six sweet smiling faces, she feels tired I know

but she won't ask for anything but more of His grace

He's called her and she knows it, you can read it on her face



A family of five drives out West to start again

not to some big mansion but a humble little den

fueled by belief that if they trust He will provide

livin' unconventional, not along just for the ride



I wanna be a walking conviction You're filling me like some kind of addiction

I wanna be fact and not fiction Help me be...a walking conviction



Using his hands to paint the pictures in his mind

not for recognition, but to fan the flame inside

the colours they ebb and flow just like the rolling tide

washed across the canvas, he can't hold them inside



I wanna be a walking conviction You're filling me like some kind of addiction

I wanna be fact and not fiction Help me be...a walking conviction



Whether I walk on the mountain or in the valley so low

I will not be pursuaded...will not be invaded

Well, you may see me stumble, but watch me as I grow into a

walking conviction...walking conviction...I wanna be



a walking conviction You're filling me like some kind of addiction

I wanna be fact and not fiction Help me be...a walking conviction

kacnov5/06

Our Father Who Art in Heaven, 1914

Here's a quote from a 1914 issue of Women's World. Elana sent it to the Carnival

Suppose you are a housewife. Your home is small. Your means are limited. Your "things to do with" are meager. Your children are trying. Your work is hard and monotonous....There you have a stream of events bearing you down. If you yield you become nervous, irritable, discontented, perhaps eventually careless and slovenly, a physical wreck and spiritual misery. And now, suppose you make up your mind not to yield. Suppose you say to yourself, "I will think beautiful thoughts. I will make my surroundings cheerful. I will be happy and strong and brave and make my husband and children even as I am." That you reply, is easier said than done. It is very hard. Wait!...it is not so hard as you imagine. Cease pitying yourself. Say, when you awake in the morning, "The world is beautiful. There are many great, noble, unconquerable souls. I am one of them....I shall make this house glow with peace and good will."


Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven ...

Oh Father, may it be so in my heart, and may my children rise up and call me blessed because they see You in me.

"leaves" of thankfulness

I couldn't sleep past 4 this morning ... not really sure why, except I had these thoughts over and over about honouring my family on my blog today. I trust the Lord will get me through my day, 8 hours or no. Since we don't celebrate a November Thanksgiving here in Canada anymore, I thought I would be thankful in my own way for all the "leaves" of blessing Father has showered on me and mine.

I need to paint a picture -

meet my Daddy ... aka Granddad, Genius, tumor-man. Ok, ok, yah, yah ... not supposed to joke about cancer, I know ... but in my house, laughter is the best medicine. Dad was told he has cancer a couple years ago now, in his lungs and brain, but he is still the one we all go to when we just don't "get" it.

He rolls his eyes in his sympathetic way ( he truly feels sorry for us lesser brained people ) and answers faster than you can ask: how did you know? Dad made sure I knew he thought I was beautiful. My Dad is strong, too ... strong willed ... but he finally met the Lord two February's ago ( now he'll probably tell me I have the date wrong here, and I'll say " what do you know, you have the tumor " ). I really believe that our homeschooling had something to do with it, too. I remember the day that my oldest couldn't sleep much. He really felt he was supposed to talk to Granddad about Jesus, after all, he had already talked to him about how he should stop smoking and he had! So, armed with his little Bible, some Scriptures and the conviction of the Holy Spirit, Jonam walked a few blocks down the road to preach the good news to Granddad, who was very obliging and told him that was a mighty big load he was carrying. Jonam did his thing, told my Dad he would give him three days to make a decision, and happily came home. Seems to me it took more like three years ( forgive him, he's British ), but Dad is now a member of THE family, and cancer's got nothing on him. My Dad "leaves" me with quiet endurance ... In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.



Now, for my Mom, aka Aino, Aiti, Mummo. My Mom was born in Toronto to a Finnish carpenter and his wife. She speaks fluently in Finnish and makes a mean pulla ( ok, here is where my Dad says that she would probably burn it if he didn't supervise ). Pulla is a kind of braided coffee bread and it is fantastic. They always bring a loaf whenever they come for a visit. For those of you who know what I am talking about, she chose angel food cake ... and for those of you who know and love her, that is no surprise. Anyone who has had the priviledge of meeting my Mom cannot help but love her also. She manages the Crisis Pregnancy Centre back home and displays a "mean" poker face in the middle of anything. I count my Mom as one of my best friends. I've been there, done that, and she loved me through it all. I remember as a little girl being convinced in that little girl way that I had breathed under water. Why, I ran half way around the world telling anyone who would listen, but it was my Mom who said " Kristina, if you really think that that's what happened, then I believe you " Wow. It wasn't the fact that I had " convinced " my Mom of the impossible, but that she was willing to tell me she believed in me that made all the difference. My Mom " leaves " me with strong conviction ... Therefore, put on the whole armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.



I have one big brother, too, but mostly I remember wishing he was adopted, or I was, or something. Ok, I did say we like to joke in my family, right? My brother, Eric, is almost 5 years older than me so that automatically makes him smarter, cooler and infinitely more handsome ... he trained me well.

We didn' always get along so well. I have absolutely NO idea why, but it seems to me that most of our time together was kind of strained and consisted of me breaking his " stuff " or playing with things he specifically asked me NOT to touch. I remember the time he had bought an Indiana Jones hat and told me NOT to touch it ... AT ALL! ... and I just had to put it on my head. He wasn't home to remind me in his gentle, all-loving, big brother way so I kind of " forgot " that he had said not to and tried it on for size ( really quickly, ok, and I already know that all of you first borns will not understand at all, or sympathize with my completely legitimate and genetic temptation ). Later on that day I found out ( boy, did I ) that he had taken a hair out of his head and closed it in his bedroom door so he would know I had been in his room when it was no longer there! I still do not know why he felt so uneasy around this beautiful little priceless treasure of a sister. ( I am soooo the baby )

Anyway, when I finally found myself in grade 9 and he was a big grade 13 ... and yes, we did have 5 years of High School here in Ontario, we became fast friends and I finally stopped going into his room and touching all his " stuff ".

As a matter of fact, he started inviting me to visit him at University and loaning me things of his if I wanted to borrow them. He has two handsome young boys of his own now, along with a beautiful, intelligent and very gracious wife, and I am very blessed. My brother " leaves " me with philosophy and philanthropy ... a generous man prospers; he who refreshes others will bimself be refreshed.

William Wilberforce on Parenting

Beware Before It Is Too Late: William Wilberforce on Parenting
By David John Steel Jr., Phd
Parenting and education have an important thing in common: they involve soul work. They both must be seen as spiritual formation. Many think that spiritual formation is a specifically Christian activity. It is not. As essentially spiritual beings, all hearts are in the process of being formed--either toward Jesus or toward someone else. It is not a "Christian" process but a human process. Dallas Willard writes, "Terrorists as well as saints are the outcome of spiritual formation. Their spirits or hearts have been formed."



I could not have said this better myself ...

In this journey I am on I am learning so much more than I ever imagined I would, or could ( or, unfortunately, needed to ).

I wish more parents took the time to kneel before the Lord and ask those hard questions about being an example and how to parent well and how to change those areas that have our feet "cemented in".

I know change is not easy ... neither is self-reflection, but it must be done, and done on a regular basis.



I just began reading the Boundaries book and discovered that I am a Compliant. I have struggled with false guilt for much of my life. Add to that the revelation from Growing Kids that I have a prohibitive conscience and you are reading the words of a woman who has a lot of work to do!

continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose. phil2:13



read the whole article here: http://www.tosmagazine.com/newsletters/devotional/11-06/11-06.php

pushing the busy bus

some days are just like that ... you mean to go to bed on time, but the cat needs fed, and the litter box needs cleaned out because it is garbage day tomorrow, and we haven't practiced the watercolour techniques we need to teach for Friday, and Ben's present hasn't been wrapped yet, and Scott needs to know how many worship team rotations our schedule can hold, and I left my script at the rehearsal hall, and I think Evan needs money for Cubs tomorrow, and Jonam didn't put away his knife after Scouts on Tuesday, and there are school books all over the kitchen counter still, along with newspaper garbage the boys left out again, and I can't remember what Scripture I need for Bible Study next Monday, and laundry needs to be taken out of the dryer so a new load can be put in, and someone left an empty milk bag in the pitcher so I can't grab a quick drink unless I change it and if I don't get into bed in the next 5 minutes I just know I won't sleep through the night ( guess I won't if I drink milk just before sleep either ).



Ever feel like you are just pushing the busy bus?



Father says to rest in Him. I am to cast all my burdens on Him 'cause His yoke is easy and His burden is light. So why does everything feel so heavy right now?



Little Christian, in Little Pilgrim's Progress, is teaching me so much about focus. I need to keep my eyes on Him ,and His Celestial City, and let my burden fall off as I gaze upon His cross. He'll show me what needs done and what can wait.



I like Anne's teacher in Anne of Green Gables who tells frazzled, little Anne that

"tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it".

His mercies are new every morning

got the matches ... ready to light some fires!

Well ... today is the BIG DAY!!

This afternoon, at 2pm, Onfire turns into a real bustling centre of art and imagination. As of 7:30 last night, we have 25 students coming to learn all about the arts ... sketching, watercolour, upo paper, lino cutting and altered art are all on the menu for the next 5 Friday afternoons.

My husband and I were thankful for all the supplies we have been able to purchase ( really good quality stuff ) and for all the willing parents that emailed and called begging to send their little Monet's for two hours.

We were also blown-away by my husband's boss's willingness to let Neal go every Friday afternoon for the next 5 weeks so we could live out a part of our dream. Not only does this man NOT Homeschool, but he isn't all that into art, either ... how can he possibly care? Neal is the only one in his department that knows what is happening with the jobs he is pricing, so he is very valuable, and yet ...


I will post some pictures of the afternoon as soon as we get a chance.

being a bellows

two nights ago, right outside our front door, we heard some women cheering, yelling, clapping and generally being loud. I had to know what was happening, so I left the house to take a look.

I figured out fairly quickly that it was a race ... the start and finish line being the parking lot to the side of our home. I saw no less than 65 people at the finish line alone not counting those still to come.

Now, I used to be a runner ... before I was married. I lifted weights, and I was on the High School rowing team. Yes, it was a long time ago, but one thing I never forgot was the feeling deep inside whenever I heard the spectators cheering us on.

" come on girls ... you can do it ... you're almost there ... ROW!!! "

Suddenly, you found that extra pocket of air inside of you, and you mustered up the strength of an army to press in and take the race.

There I was listening to the cries of the exhausted runners, their breath coming in rasping, laboured waves, when I discovered my tears. Not because I wanted to be in that particular race, but because I heard myself asking ---

" why don't we do this? those of us in the home ... why don't we literally sit on a fellow " runner's " front step clapping and cheering " you can make it ... you pressed past the last hill ... you can do this ... yes! "

--- and it challenged me.