spiffin' up the place

I have blogged now for seven years. SEVEN. Holy smokes. This past spring I told Rory, "I think I'm in it for the long haul." And he said, "Oh you think?"

This past year I had three years worth of blog posts printed and bound in three beautiful books that hold stories and pictures that I found worthy to post. What a joy. I love thumbing through these hard cover books. I'm proud of them. And so glad I took the time.

And so it was at some point this summer that I decided to keep at it. To try to blog well, to write with honesty and to add things to the world that draw attention to the good stuff: family, creativity and faithful living that points to Jesus.

It was about that time that I found a blog that knocked my socks off. The design was stunning, the content was creative and beautiful and the writing felt genuine and true. I was so inspired and found the link for the artist who designed her blog and inquired to have her redesign my own blog.

And here it is. Tada!

No kidding, when Heather of Life Made Lovely, sent me her original proof for the blog I started jumping up and down around the kitchen table. Ivar was amused and curious and afraid. I was laughing and yelping. I loved how she took my ideas and made my life look so lovely.

The honest truth is that I don't have any huge ambitions with this blog. I don't see myself ever making any money through this thing. (though that would be awesome!) But part of that kind of blogging requires some sort of self-marketing. And every time I go near that idea I cringe. Maybe one day I'll be ready to go for it. But for now I love my readers, I love that I can blog about anything under the sun and I really love keeping my life journal up here on ze world wide web.

As always, I am grateful that I have so many faithful readers and love sharing my life in this way. My hope for the future is to continue to share a glimpse into our family, living our lives with creative purpose, always pointing to Jesus.

trouble in the bee hive

The walk to my honeybees leads me through our grove and then through our field. And every time, when I finally make my way I round the grove so the hives are in eye shot, I hold my breath. Because I love my bees and want them to thrive. But weird things are happening to bees like colony collapse and I feel like I'm sort of waiting for something to go wrong. My greatest fear is that I'll round the corner and find my bees have swarmed and are gone or that disease has set into my hives or that the bees have died. I am strangely attached to my bees. And I would be devastated if something happened.

Last Friday I put on my gear, rounded the corner and found a scattering of dead bees at the base of each hive. I wanted to cry. I felt so responsible, so helpless and so sad. I loaded my smoker and slowly watched the activity around the hives.

There wasn't a whole lot to watch...the runway that is usually dense with bees flying in and out of the hive was pretty quiet. So I opened the first hive and saw lots of bees in there, moving pretty slowly. There wasn't a lot of buzzing but they seemed to be fanning themselves a lot.

I opened the second hive and it was about the same. The bees were still there, but they were less active. I walked back to the house and called my bee teacher, Adam. And then I got on a bee keeping forum and explained what I had seen.

I didn't have any answers and left for an overnight with my cousins and aunts and mom and sister and found myself at the Stockholm, Wisconsin farmers market later that night. There I met a woman selling hot pepper jelly, sweetened with her own honey and told her about my bees.

I told her all that I had seen and that I was pretty upset to see my hives look so weak. Clearly something terrible was wrong with dead bees surrounding the hives. And then she told me the 713th crazy bee fact I have learned since starting this whole adventure: She explained that because it had been so hot the day before and gotten so chilly over night the bees were likely preparing for winter. And that to prepare for winter the female bees will clean house by stinging the male bees to death so they don't have to house and feed the moochers eating their honey all winter long.

What in the world?!! Oh I died. I was so relieved my hives are fine (actually, this is a sign of health she said!) and so shocked by the murders that had happened in my hives that morning. So much of what I have read about hives and bee colonies paints this glorious utopia-like picture of a society that works in unity, each person fulfilling their particular job, working hand in hand to get the job done.

But somehow they have left out the part where the women kill off all the men before wintertime.

At any rate, I was relieved. And humored. And taken aback. All at the same time. I left the farmers market with my mom and sister, aunts and cousins and went out for a lovely dinner to kick off our girls getaway. How very fitting.

glazed old fashioned donuts with chocolate drizzle

Last week Rory was out of town and I had a babysitter lined up so I could meet with a friend. Our plans changed, so that I had a babysitter coming, but nothing planned. I thought about cancelling the sitter, but then I came to my sweet senses.

There are many things a girl might do with three unexpected hours to herself. I thought hard about what I would most like to do with my time. And then it dawned on me: grocery shop without my kids. So I went and it was wonderful. (And while in the milk aisle I had the brilliant idea to schedule a pedicure, lest you think I'm super dumb with my sudden free evening.)

It was in the cereal aisle that I came upon the two-year-old that I had heard screaming most of the time I was shopping. The two-year-old sat in the front of the cart, and there was an infant in its carrier in the basket of the cart. The mom was pushing with a four-year-old walking behind. The two-year-old was not happy. At all.

I went to check out and as I stood in the long, long line, I could still hear this kiddo even though their check out lane was not close to mine. And then I heard that little newborn wake up and scream as if it was starving to death. Of course it wasn't, but it thought it was. The cries from that baby were so intense I was worried I was going to start producing milk again.

Out in the parking lot, I could still hear this family and just as I was about to sit down in my car, I opened the trunk again to get the donuts out so I could eat them on the way home. I looked three rows down and saw the mom, peeling bananas for her kids, loading the groceries in the back all while the baby screamed its sad story.

And something came over me and I knew what I had to do. I walked right through those three rows of cars with my donuts in hand and said to the mom, "It sounds like your kids are really hungry. I know because I have two little kids at home myself. But I bet you are hungry too. And I wondered if you wanted a donut for the ride home. I was about to eat one myself on my drive home and thought it sounded like you might want one too." She looked so stunned and said, "I do. I do want a donut." (Ha!) And then I looked in her minivan, right into the eyes of her children and told them, "This is your mom's donut. You guys have banana's, but this donut is just for your mom, okay?" And they nodded in terrified obedience.

I walked away back to my car, opened the box again and began to eat my own donut. Because moms deserve donuts.

baby turkey

One night in July, Elsie and I were sitting in our camping chairs in the driveway taking in the night. And then a lone baby turkey came cheeping our way, running frantically, lost and confused. I ran to tell Rory and then we were able to corner the baby against the chicken fence so that I could scoop it up.

Thankfully Elsie and I had just watched the whole turkey family walk through our yard and up the road into a neighbors driveway. So I walked the baby up the road while it cheeped for its mama. Then I heard the mama call back. Eventually I could see the mom up the path with her other babies around her and I let this little one go, trusting that since they were calling to each other, they would soon have a sweet reunion.

the most important thing you'll hear this school year

My sister's girls slept over on Friday night and I had the great privilege of tucking them in and saying prayers. We prayed Now I Lay Me, Our Father and Dear Jesus. And then I asked the girls if they had any questions about God or things they wondered about. I am, after all, one of their Sponsors, present at their Baptism, and take this responsibility very seriously.

The room was dark, they were snuggled into their sleeping bags and I felt like a camp counselor. Sonna wanted to know what happens to us when we die, so we talked about Heaven and how this world isn't our actual home. Our home is still waiting for us where we will be face to face with Jesus and there will be no more pain, sorrow, death or sadness. 

I told the girls about the story I read with my kids this morning from the Jesus Storybook Bible. We read about how Satan came into the garden and told Adam and Eve to eat the fruit from the tree. And that when they ate that fruit God's very heart broke because he knew that by eating the fruit men and women would forever begin to think they didn't need Him. That they could outwit his wisdom, out-think his logic. Men and women would come to believe the whole story of God and Jesus is just a made-up, feel-good tale. 

I told them this: the most important thing for you to remember is that this is still Satan's goal in this world.  He wants us to eat that fruit and believe we don't really need God afterall.

But then we talked about the moments Satan cannot take from us. The moments when God is so near we just know in our bones that He is exactly who He says He is. Like when you're out in the dark country and see a canopy of bright stars above you. Or when you hike to the top of a mountain and see a view that takes your breath away. Or when you witness the steadfast faith of a grandparent or someone you love and respect dearly...it helps fuel our own faith. Or when you hear a song that stirs your soul. Or when you watch a little life grow inside of a mama...the most amazing miracle for me. Or when you feel pure joy and happiness. Those are all times when you know God is Real. 

But Satan wants us to think the whole story is a lie. And will work hard to confuse us of our identity. We have to always remember that we are Children of God. My prayer is that they never forget that.

We talked about reading our Bibles and how that is the one place where we can hear God's voice clear as day. God wants to speak into our lives, and the Bible is where we can hear him the best.

The room was dark and quiet and I felt so honored to be sharing these big ideas and this good news with them. And for God to be reminding me of his good news even while I was telling of His great love to my nieces.

Then we wondered why Adam and Eve ate the fruit.

And I told them the truth: I would have eaten the fruit. And they would have too. I told them about how I sometimes say things I wish I could take back. How I lose my patience with my kids. How I get frustrated and think mean thoughts. They said they do these things too. I told them its even written in the bible that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Eve was just the first.

And that's why God sent his son Jesus.

Because of our sin we have been separated from God. So God sent his son Jesus to sacrifice his life on the cross to make things right with God. Through Jesus, we are forgiven just as if we had never sinned. Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father but through Him.

And that reminded them of a Vacation Bible School song they know, so we ended our conversation with singing.  I went upstairs and lay in my bed. I thought a lot about how good it was to walk through my own beliefs, explaining them to a child. It's hard work. But I felt fire in my bones as we talked. I knew in the moment there could be no more important way to spend my time. I loved hearing their thoughts and stories that came up as we talked. And I love knowing that they are starting the school year having heard the most important thing they'll ever learn: That God is real. That Satan would like for them to forget this truth. That all have sinned. That Jesus is the only way to the Father. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life.