Out of the mouths of babes

"Jesus, stop it!" my three-year-old niece exclaimed, as she sat down to a picnic at the local park on Monday. And again, "C'mon, Jesus, stop it!"

It took me a minute to understand what she was shouting about, in all her three-year-old, pig-tailed glory. It was the wind. She was quite simply, asking Jesus to keep the wind out of her face so she could eat her corn dog. I'm not kidding.

Now I'm going to ask you a question that will really tax your brain: does Jesus care if the wind happens to be keeping her from eating her corn dog? And how might he respond, if a little person who believes in him so implicitly blurts out a request like this? According to my niece, he stopped the wind when asked. And no offense to the skeptical among you, but I'm totally buying it.

How do I handle it when the wind prevents me from eating a corn dog? I suppose I move so I'm facing against the wind and it blows my hair backward. Perfectly practical, right? But that's an adult answer. Kids tend to step into situations without problem solving skills. And sometimes when they need a little help from Jesus, they just ask for it, no holds barred. Wouldn't you love to live like this?

But her spiritual convictions run even deeper, believe it or not. Our family's three-year-old really likes to talk about her Grandpa, whom she would snuggle with on his hospice bed, before he died from cancer a year ago. And she talks about heaven and how Grandpa somehow doesn't hurt anymore and doesn't need any medicine. And she's really pretty excited about going there and seeing him again. I believe she'd go right now if she could.

So when I asked her if there's anything to worry about when going to heaven, she smiled so sweetly, and said "No. 'Cause Jesus loves ya!" And this is the ultimate answer to every question, of course, if you can simply have the faith of a child.

What will happen if cancer takes my life or makes me waste away in unproductivity? It will be OK somehow, because Jesus loves ya. What will happen if my husband loses his job and our income and health insurance? It will somehow be OK, because Jesus loves ya. And what if I screw up and make bad choices that scar my children or loved ones forever? Even in this, you can turn to Jesus, because he loves ya.

It's simplistic, yes, but I do believe the simplest things are the truest. If we can move past our baggage, see the subtext when chaos is all around us, believe that Jesus is weaving something beautiful despite the knots on the underbelly of our lives, we can be secure, safe in anything that comes.

If you're not there now, and it certainly can be a journey, you can get there to understanding and receiving his love. For me, it took counseling, depression, and plenty of tears. For you it might take seeing God's goodness shine through in the midst of loss. Occasionally, we even find God's goodness through joy that unexpectedly bursts into our lives.

But when you grasp this simple truth, that God can't help but be good, that he's redeeming the ugliest things in life for ultimate good, you can rest.

Because Jesus loves ya. 

"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 18:3-4

The Top 10 Joys of Married Life, continued...

When we get to number 1, we'll republish the whole list for you. For now, get a look at numbers 7 and 8:

8.  Healthier habits. 

I don't know about others, but for David and I, we tend to make healthier choices when we're together. Not only do we take more time with our meals, they include a lot of fresh vegetables now, which we take time to prepare and to enjoy together. So far, we haven't had any nights where we had cereal for dinner. He tells me how much he appreciates me taking care of myself, and I find myself exercising 5-6 times a week. I encourage him to go workout for some time by himself, and he enjoys it, too. It's also gently reassuring to have someone who cares about your general health and will accompany you to the doctor when needed. David and I each have our own health issues--including lymphedema for me and thyroid for him, and we support each other through them. You don't need to be married to have your own "health advocate," but I think it's a great idea to get one whether by friend or by marriage.

7.  Someone to do life with. 
For years, OK even decades, David and I have done so many things alone. We had friends around at times, and family, too, but they couldn't always be there. So we sometimes took vacations or weekends away alone. We ate alone every day. It was the same thing with exercise, shopping, etc. The daily things of life were done solo, and we had only occasional times when we could share them with another. Married life brings so much togetherness, but the things we appreciate most are just having someone lying next to us in bed and having someone to share cooking and meals with. We were grateful for God's blessings when we were single; now, due to the long wait for marriage, we find ourselves in a grateful state each day, thanking God for a life companion.

Number 6-1 coming soon!

Crafty, crafty

Don't consider myself much of a "craft" type person--but I do enjoy crafts. So when I find something I can do, that looks halfway decent and has some functionality attached to it, it's actually fun. 

So since my 7-year-old and 3-year-old niece are here visiting for a few days, we decided to get crafty. We used a wonderful invention called "washable paint." Then we let it dry, reapplied a coat, etc. Finally, last night Uncle David helped us as we decorated our frames, each with our own theme.

There was the beach theme. Voila...

The ever-popular barnyard theme with a twist...the three-year-old could not live without a wild pink flamingo on her farm...er, frame. The results were stunning.

And then, finally the "Aunt Suzie" theme.

I know, I know, I need to locate a good picture. And in case you're wondering, Uncle David judged these masterpieces, and awarded us "most colorful," "best overall," and "most creative," respectively.

To tell the truth, I think he was most taken with our sidewalk art:

Cheers!

When It's Time to Change, You've Got to Rearrange...

...who you are and what you're gonna be. A-la Brady Bunch tune from like 1970-something. Remember Peter Brady recording this little ditty? Sha-na-na-na-nah-nah-na-nanna-na. Shanna-nah-nah-na! Ahem...

The point is the look of this blog has changed. Do you like? Let me know, seriously, because I can change font size, etc. to make it easier for reading. Or let me know too if you just don't like the looks of it. I can take it. :)

Post below, friends!

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming...to bring you cute pictures!

Did you know a macbook pro can do some pretty silly things in the photobooth application? Like amaze three really cute kiddos with thermal imaging, x-ray, mirroring, and making a dazzling sun out of a two-year-old's cherubic face. Sheesh, what can't it do?

And now, the Top 10 Joys of Married Life!

You've been anxiously awaiting this list. On pins and needles, aren't you? We've waited until we're sure there were at least ten joys in married life, and we're happy to report, there are many more than ten! But in the interest of brevity, here's what we've agreed on. Completely subjective, mind you...anyway, here goes.

10. Double-dipping. 

You knew it was coming, after reading our honeymoon double-dipping adventures. Honeymooners can be so sappy, can't they? Of course, the joy of double-dipping can only be fulfilled if your mate signs off on the practice. But c'mon, you're folding his underwear and sharing her toothpaste, for pete's sake. Live a little! Even if you've been married for 20 years, and you haven't caught on to double-dipping yet, we encourage you to give it a try. It is oh-so-liberating to break a rule with your one and only.

9. Someone to hold your hand in church (or anywhere else) when you're getting emotional.

Have you ever had a complete breakdown, with tears galore, just because you heard a heartfelt song on the radio? Yes, you too, guys. At least when no one else was in the car. Well, the good news about marriage is that because you make yourself so vulnerable to your partner, he or she is OK with your emotional reactions. In fact, your other half may even anticipate your meltdown. Seriously. And what greater comfort than a hug or hand-holding when your heart is so to-the-touch tender. Trust me on this one, I know! (And even David has had his "dust in the eyes" moments, as he describes them.)

Sorry to keep you in suspense...but not really. Numbers 1-8 to follow soon. Come back regularly. And post often on your own "joys!"

When Three-Year Olds Bowl

It doesn't take long to get me laughing when three-year-olds are involved in anything. I find them to be highly dramatic, with mood changes every three or four minutes, and full of an unadulterated belief that they can do and be anything they please.

Maybe we should be more like three-year-olds. In throwing caution to the wind, that is. You know, not having to be perfect to try something--anything. (No, I'm not saying we should revert to whining until we get chocolate milk in our favorite sippie cup. Though it might be fun just once...)

I found out this week, firsthand, that it can be a very humorous and enjoyable experience watching a three-year-old bowl. It happened purely by accident as David and I babysat my sister's kids on Wednesday. And my three-year-old niece prepared for her bowling experience.

There was, first of all, the matter of ball selection. On the way to the bowling alley she insisted that only pink or purple balls would do. Until she got into her little red/blue/yellow velcro bowling shoes and ambled up to the ball racks. The little thing couldn't pick up anything more than an ugly orange lightweight. We were happy to see her optimism about the game of bowling was not deterred by this turn of events.

But the best part of this whole little outing was the squat.

When it was her turn, she proudly ran up to the ball holder, grabbed the orange one, and ran up to the front of the lane. Those cute little "bumpers" automatically popped up, insuring the improbability her ball would end up in the gutter.

She squatted down intently, granny-style, looking dapper in her cute plaid shorts, and we told her to push. See her hands planted on that ball? As we yelled "push hard!" she intently pushed that ugly orange thing forward with very little force, and I began to wonder whether she or the ball would be heading down the lane.

But she kept her footing and with a very eager look watched the ball's painfully slow journey down the lane. We began to pray it would reach the pins without stalling.

Apparently it did:

And oh the delight when it even, almost by accident, knocked down a few pins. She was every inch a bowler extraordinaire and her face showed it.

I kept laughing every time her turn would come up, because each throw was an event in itself. She ran up to the lane, did the infamous squat and truly believed her "pushes" were amazing. 

As soon as the ball started the slow roll, she'd run back to the seats, watching in anticipation for the "knock-down." She had her own little routine and no one could tell her it might be done differently someday.

Three year olds don't need to know these things. They are usually permitted to exercise their own way of doing things. No matter how inefficient. And it ends up being delightful.

So I started thinking, what if bowling alleys started forming bowling leagues strictly for three-year-olds? Could you stand it? Not even dance recitals could be this cute. Aunts, uncles, and even distant relatives could attend, and receive free comic relief in the form of their little cherubs battling it out lane-by-lane, shove by shove. There would be no rules except common courtesy. You could turn your rear to the lane and push backward through your legs if you felt like it. The crazier the better.

You could even give an award or something for the best squat. 

And oh, the photo opps...

Admit it, friends. You'd show up, at least once.

The next best thing. Go bowling with a crazy friend and bowl like a three-year-old yourself. I triple-dog-dare ya. And don't forget to send me a pic.

Cheers!

On my nightstand

What have you learned from Laura Ingalls Wilder? You know, Little House on the Prarie (not the TV show), By the Shores of Silver Lake, etc.

As a child, those stories taught me that the simple life could be good--very good, in fact. And filled with meaning and joy and contentment.

This book on my nightstand has instructed me with more of the same. It's a sampler of the rediscovered writings of Laura, and it includes lots of essays titled things like "Having a Family Motto," "The First Frost," and one of my favorites, "Simplify, simplify."

Laura was cheering on the cause of simplicity, encouraging downsizing and efficiency, in July 1919:

"There used to be 207 kinds of lawnmowers. Now there are only six. This number does not include the regular mowing machine which the Man of the Place uses so effectively in the front yard nor the pet colt who mows the lawn and puts the clippings to such good use."

Suzie's commentary:

Sorry, Laura, but the # of lawnmowers available has definitely increased. Then again, branding over the years has probably ensured that there are only 6 leading lawnmower manufacturers. Oh, and I love the way you call Almanzo "The Man of the Place." (If any of you are wondering, that was the inspiration for the references to"the husband" on this blog.)

Laura goes on to extol the virtues of a "dining-roomless house," since the dining room is technically only used for a few minutes three times a day. "The fact is that most dining rooms are used by the family as a living room as well, and so in the new plans, the rooms are frankly combined into one."

Suzie's commentary:

Love Laura's use of the word "frankly"--and frankly speaking, she's not afraid to speak plainly on lots of things in a world that's sometimes too careful.

Laura ends her essay with these words:

"Everyone is complaining of being tired, of not having time for what they wish to do. It is no wonder when they are obliged to pick and choose from such multitudes of thoughts and things.

The world is full of so many things, so many of them useless, so many, many varieties of the same thing creating confusion and a feeling of being overwhelmed by their number. It would be a wonderful relief if, by eliminating both wisely and well, life might be simplified."

Suzie's commentary:

Yes, yes, never have we been so tired and so harried. We've never had so many options . . . or so many startups that fail. Never has employer/employee loyalty been rarer, and never have I had more options for clothing myself or simply finding the perfect mustard. I say, let simplicity reign! Perhaps we should be content with accomplishing less in a day, but spending our valuable time on the most intangible things--learning and spending time with God and others. Let's live in smaller houses and eat simple, fresh meals, surrounded by friends and family. It will be hard work to live this simply, ignoring a million distractions, but I think Laura would agree--it is worth it.

The ideal is worthy; yet, I must admit, I still order the occasional decaf skinny cinnamon dolce at Starbucks. And perhaps that is OK, too, as long as we are not obsessed with consumption and catering to our every whim. Everything in moderation.

Thoughts?

Celebrating the 4th, free!

No matter what you think about our country at present, the war and the recession, etc., you gotta admit . . . you are still living free. Free to say what you like, free to observe your faith, free to get up and do what you want to today and tomorrow.

You probably didn't think about these freedoms when you woke up this morning, but that doesn't matter--they are yours nonetheless. Most of you are free to have the day off today and are getting paid for it. You are eating whatever you want to today. Some are grilling burgers on the back patio, not even thinking about the fact that they can do this because they don't live in Baghdad or Afghanistan. And though you might grumble about the cost of gas today, you are still free to drive across town or across state. With your windows down or up. Air conditioning or no air conditioning. Your choice. 

You are watching a movie or baking a pie. Combing your daughter's hair while holding her close. Turning on the sprinkler in the front yard to let your kids scream as they pass underneath it. Lighting sparklers. Mowing the lawn.

You are free in the most ordinary, yet extraordinary ways. So, while you are out and about today, being free, I have just one question for you: are you grateful? 

Some of  you bow your head before you eat, a quick thanks to God for food to eat. But instead of just mumbling thanks for your cherry pie or bratwurst today, why not try thanking God for all your freedoms as you go throughout the day? You'll be surprised at how rich you are. No matter what's in your pocketbook.

Try it and see. 

The divine wastefulness of a beach day

Huffing, puffing, we stair-stepped up and up to the Lake Michigan overlook at Kirk Park. The view was worth it, don't you think?

Today, at this very moment, in West Michigan, things are dark as thunderstorms crash down around us. But not Monday. Monday was crystal clear with only a smattering of fluffy clouds. The two of us, determined to be beach bums for the day, followed our "lookout" view by hiking down to the beach proper, and spreading out our gear. 

The seagulls, the happy beachgoers--few and far between--and the magnificent waves, rolling in, washing up on to the shore, completing what felt like perfection.

There is the feeling, when one goes to the beach, that you will want to finish your novel or a crossword puzzle, that you will want to be busy while you sit there. Or maybe just have the illusion of busyness. (We do not do stillness well, do we?)

But not me. Before too long, I had tossed aside my magazine, sprayed on the sunblock, and settled my body down on the towel above the sand. I think we sat there for a few hours at least, quietly, eating our gourmet cheese and crackers, then lying down to rest again. I suppose for this one day only, we could have qualified as beach bums.

Then, after awhile, I became more aware of the children and the kids-at-heart, flinging themselves into the lake, jumping through its waves, and racing against the current. I wanted to play. So this is me, psyching myself up, putting my toes in the water...

And then, I decided to just go for it, pink intertube and all.

And I jumped those waves, over and over, floating my top half on the intertube and hanging on for dear life. Raising both arms to the heavens and yelling "yeeeah!" each time I crested a wave--not that anyone could hear me, which made it especially fun. I started floating away to the left, as the waves kept coming, and David in his beach chair, getting smaller and smaller.

But soon it became clear that jumping waves alone would not be as much fun as jumping them with David. And so I begged him to join me, even though he didn't have a swimsuit, just shorts. And with protest, complaining of Lake Michigan's iciness, he moved out and into the waves. We made a memory, jumping those waves together, holding on to each other, as he eventually pulled me on my intertube back to the shore. 

What made it perfect, simply divine, was the warm terrycloth coverup waiting for me and the chilled watermelon waiting in our cooler. It was the nicest end to our beach bum day.

Long may the blessed wastefulness of a beach day reign. 

And all of this beauty courtesy of our Creator. Still takes my breath away.