What I did this Week: Thanksgiving

  As I blogged before, I celebrated Thanksgiving this week. But here is a post about my week in general.

  The beginning of this week was cold, so we started a fire. Now its in the seventies.

 

 

  Tuesday evening, I started brining the turkey for Thanksgiving. I know, the brine looks like throw-up.



 

 



   Wednesday, I made cinnamon rolls to fuel all the pre-thanksgiving cooking we would be doing that day.

  We also painted our dining room this lovely shade of green.

 

 

  Thursday we gave thanks and ate turkey among others things.

 

    Then, after lunch, I went to the railroad tracks with some friends to take pictures.

 

 

  Here's Brook practicing her awesome dance moves.

 

  And that was my week!




On this Day We Give Thanks For...

  Today is a national holiday known as turkey day. Wait, its actually called Thanksgiving. As I did last year, I will again list the things I am thankful for thus far in the year. So here goes:

  I am thankful for salvation through Christ. This is the thing with which I will probably start this list each year, but it is what I am most thankful for because without it nothing else would matter.

  I am also thankful for my family and friends.

  For food. Its pretty great.

  That I live in the United States. And that I don't live in Missouri

  For my new room which is painted with my favorite color.

  For my roommate who wakes me up at one every night when she loses her pacifier

  Coffee. Every morning it keeps me alive.

  The tree in the back yard that I like to climb sometimes.

  That the final Hobbit movie is coming out in less than a month.

  That Christmas is less than a month away.

  For my new haircut.

  For sushi.

  And books.

  And Switchfoot's EP The Edge of the Earth.

  And this song:

 

    So as I do every thanksgiving, I have much to be thankful for.

  Fear is a terrible thing. A horrible ache in our souls. An invisible goblin that haunts our footsteps. In the depths of our humanity, fear is hard to push away. Yet at times it would seem we do not want to. We cling to our fears. We nurse them tenderly till they become monsters of fantastic proportions. We let them enslave us.
  And why? Do we think that God is not good enough. Do we fear we will seem simple in the eyes of others for our faith that He will make all things new. Faith is hard. To trust that God holds in the palm of His hands the world that is spinning our of our control. But fear is harder still. We fear when we try to control this life which is too big a burden for our tiny hands to bear.
  To fear and to have faith are choices. We must choose to try and take control of a life too big for us. Or we must trust there is a good God, who will never let the world leave the palm of His hands.

The Reality of Narnia

  ""Oh, oh, oh!" cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.
  "Oh, it's too bad," sobbed Lucy; "they might have left the body alone."
  "Who's done it?" cried Susan. "What does it mean? Is it magic?"
  "Yes!" said a great voice behind their backs. "It is more magic." They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan Himself."

  C.S. Lewis said of J.R.R. Tolkien's  The Lord of the Rings trilogy, "Here are beauties that pierce like swords and burn like cold iron." While that was true of the gloriously intricate world of Middle-Earth, was also true of the land of Narnia. While I cry over The Lord of the Rings, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe was the first book I ever cried over. I will probably always have a vivid memory of curling up in my bed one winter night to read that book and weeping when Aslan died and then weeping more still when He came back to life.
  Thursday I found that the story still has that same effect on me as I read it to my brothers. I was doing great until Susan and Lucy turned around to behold the newly risen Aslan. Then I had to stop reading for a moment so I could swallow a sob and wipe the tears out of my eyes.
  Its seems strange that a fairy-tale could have such a great affect on me. But then I thought that the stories which have the most profound affects on us are often the ones that reflect reality the clearest. I do not think C.S. Lewis meant for Narnia to allegorical. He once said people drew parallels from his stories he wished he had thought of on his own. But because of his Christianity, stories of love a sacrifice still found their way into his writing. And my own faith enables me to see and cherish the truths found in Narnia. Thus I weep over them.

What I did this Week: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

  This week has been good and busy. But for whatever reason, I find myself with fewer pictures than I expected. No worries though, it is what it is.

  Sunday evening I baby-sat and made pizza cake.

 

 

  Monday afternoon I finally mastered the art of the blind catch-stich. Now you see it:

 

  Now you don't:

 

  Then in the evening I made up this recipe for lemon-mint chickpea soup. And it turned out pretty good.

 

  Thursday I schooled my brothers. To be honest though, I did not help this particular brother with his Algebra.

  Friday I got my hair cut. And not the usual trim and re-layer. I went from this:

 

  To this:

 



  Since my Mom has breast cancer I wanted to cut my hair and donate it. To have enough to donate I had to cut it that short. I love it though. Time will tell if I keep it.

  Then Friday evening I made a cheesecake. To ward off unwanted nibblers, my nerd prodigy made this sign:

 

   I love that kid. And that was my week!





doing school.

  Doing school with three children of varying age levels and simultaneously keeping a three year old and one year old entertained is a trying task. Today while my Mom went in for her chemo treatment, I helped homeschool. I have a lot of respect for all she does.

  It infects society, this depraved sense of good and evil humanity possesses. We excuse all or we excuse nothing. We offer no hope for the other side because in ourselves we cannot find it. We know there is goodness because of the sunrise, because of the light that burns in our hearts. And we know there is evil be the bitter night and the inky black that spills from the depths of our soul.
  And yet, in ourselves, there is nothing. We learn, as we grow, to excuse evil and condemn good. Apart from God's law we have no wisdom. Apart from the gospel we have no hope.
  It is the gospel that brings sense to life, that turns humanity's tradition on its head, that blows our misconceptions of good and evil our of the water. Apart from the wisdom of God there is no true knowledge to be had. No fence to show us liberty. No ground on which to stand.

Given to Ingratitude

 

Ingratitude. That is the word you are never supposed to say in relation to your feelings at this time of year. However, I always think I am entitled to a spirit of ingratitude at this time of year. Not because I do not like Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. I do not like cold. On mornings like today, I am always reluctant to get out of bed because it is cold. Well, it is cold outside. In my room I bask in a balmy seventy degrees while lying in my warm bed bundled up in flannel pajamas and wool socks. And when I finally do crawl out of bed, I get to stumble into the kitchen where I can pour myself a cup of hot coffee and eat hot oatmeal.
  While going outside into the thirty-five degree weather is by no means pleasant. I certainly am not suffering inside. The burden of ingratitude I have shouldered is what makes life miserable, not my circumstances. I ought to be grateful for the cold, because if nothing else it amplifies the extent of the blessings God has given me.

What I did this week

  I haven't done one of these in a while, so better late than never right?

 

  Well, early on, I started reading Crime and Punishment and thus far it has pretty good. I would not say it is entertaining. For the most part it takes place in the head of a reluctant murderer, and it is fascinating. Even one who has hardened themselves to their crimes with logic and desperation still suffers the pangs of conscience. Sin hurts no matter what. And that's as far as I've gotten.

 

  Tuesday I went and bought Tenth Avenue North's new album, Cathedrals. I highly recommend it. They have proved they have not reached the level of stagnancy so many other bands do after so long as a band.

 

  It got cold this week, so we've built many fires.

 

  And I started a couture skirt which has been fun. I love high end sewing.

 

    And that was my week!





 

 

Season's First Fire

  Last night my Dad built the season's first fire in the fire place. To be honest though, this is the second fire of the season that my brother built this morning.

Sometimes God's Will Seems Wrong

God is too big for human understanding. His will exceeds my comprehension and I can never know the depths of His goodness.

  I believe God is good, I tell people that. And when life is going well, that is an easy thing to say and believe. But life is not bliss. Tragedy forces me to be honest with myself and with those around me. It forces me to come to grips with what I really believe about God. When I encounter pain, I naturally question God’s goodness. Why would He allow me to suffer if He loves me?

  The truth of the matter is that I do not understand what is good for me. Because I can only see through a glass darkly, I cannot see how the pain I now endure will grow me into the image of Christ. So while God’s will for my life may include more pain and heartache than I want, His will is still good. He uses this broken world to fulfill His purposes in ways my finite mind cannot grasp.

  God’s will may seem wrong to me at times. If He created this world, why does He allow it to become sick? Why is it dying?  Why do we get sick and die? In those questions I can give into my anger, or I can trust that God is doing something beautiful, and is making the world new again in His time. As someone said better than I ever could:

  “When things go wrong you ask yourself, “How can there be a good God?” I think doubt and faith are equally logical choices in the face of tragedy…Faith is to say, “Yes. The future will have pain, but there is a meaning and purpose deeper than that pain.” For me, that is my choice; to believe rather than doubt.”

-Jon Foreman

 

pain.

  We come here to suffer. If Christ had chosen for us the road of ease, far from this place would we run.
  If our happiness was all Christ desired for us, we would be living as fat, stupid, happy individuals. Our hearts would never break, our minds would never grow, we would never know the joy of coming to the end of ourselves and finding Christ alone can fulfill our soul's ache.
  Christ loves us too much to withhold the pain we so desperately need. Suffering is a part of the curse we have pulled on top of ourselves by our sin and the sins of our fathers. But Christ has transformed pain into a catalyst that draws us neared to Him. We grow by aches and pains.
  The sharp stab of suffering makes joy all the more sweet. We know much by the polarities given us.
  Though we make drown in our tears the night long, dawn will break and the world will be new and more beautiful for the pain we now know.

Play-Dough

  Today my Mom started her first round of chemo. That meant this morning I was in charge of running the house. I do not envy my Mom's job. Its hard work trying to school kids and keep the house semi-clean and make sure children get fed and stay out of trouble. This afternoon when she got back home, I made play-dough my smaller brothers to keep them a little quieter while Mom tried to rest. It was fun to relive my childhood for a window of time while I shaped colored dough into fantastic, diminutive creations.