more about the blessings of green

Jessica posted comments and questions to that last post that I thought it would be fun to answer.  With lots of nostalgic photos!  She said:

I've never seen a redwood in real life, so these photos are just amazing to me.

I still think your backyard looks like something out of a fairytale. I imagine little Tinkerbells dancing around in there or for other mythical creatures to be hiding behind those massive trees. What a blessing for your children to be able to play in their own little forest :)

What a shame about the wild blackberries :(

Green is my favorite color, so I just love the spring and seeing all the trees start to bloom around here. Your trees look very lush already. I'm not familiar with how it works in your area of California - does everything essentially die throughout the winter there? Do you guys get a lot of snow?


I agree--redwoods are pretty amazing!  We are very proud of our trees, since redwoods once covered much of the earth, waaaay back in the history of creation, but now only exist in this relatively small spot along the northern CA coast, and just over the border into Oregon.  (There are three varieties of redwoods, two of which grow only here: the coast redwood, and the giant redwood, or what we usually just call the sequoia. There is also the dawn redwood, but you can only find forests of it in China now.  We know all this because we did a fun unit on redwoods for homeschool a few years back. : )  If any of you are a homeschool family or just enjoy life-long learning, there is an interesting documentary about redwoods available as an instant download on Netflix called Climbing Redwood Giants. 

Your comment about the trees being something out of a fairytale and little Tinkerbelles dancing around them of course brought back to mind our traditional Fairies in the Forest teaparties we have given each girl when they turn six. : )  And just the other day--when I was looking for that old photo of DH and the two girls up on the redwood stump--I went through old photos posted to facebook, and rediscovered the ones my friend Willow took at Merry's "Fairies" party four years ago, which I've never shared here before.  Here are a few:

Gratuitous cute daughters photos at the end!

Those weren't taken in our backyard, but just down the creek behind our local elementary school. 

I do love our backyard being something a little bit wild--where the kids can be a little bit wild.  I do wish it was bigger, and I do wish we had some good places of sunshine so I could grow some veggies, and I do wish it had a little more useful landscaping--like steps down, and a stone patio, and a way to get down closer to the creek and make the most of our property--but all of that is not as important to me as being able to look out of my windows and see so much green. 

The view from my front windows is not as pretty, but is still full of green:

There is a very nice housing development up the hill over there, and the developer bought this land as a green belt to buffer the residents from I guess all us regular old poor folks.  But we sure do benefit from it, and see nothing but trees beyond the road. 

This is the view of the front from inside, through the big antique windows:

I took this photo standing up, and wish I had sat down instead, so you would see more of the great green expanse higher up and less of our lovely dirt and gravel yard.  Because the image just can't capture how much green fills my view when I am sitting here at the computer, with trees (mostly native oak) filling my view to the left out the front window, and all those redwoods dominating my view when I turn my head to the right and look out the back over the deck.  It helps too that these living room windows are enormous--11 1/2 feet wide and 6 feet high! 

It's my favorite color too, Jessica (well, besides grey), and where we live on Monterey Bay the weather is always so temperate that most trees stay green year round.  (Well, redwoods themselves are evergreens, which helps, but we also have a lot of oaks and other varieties that seem to keep their leaves year round out here.  But we have just enough trees that change color and lose leaves to give me some feeling of Fall, which used to be my favorite season!)  If you look at that last post and the photo of DH and the girls up on the stump--notice the tree behind them, which has lost its leaves.  That is what winter looks like for us.  The coldest it usually gets is down to the lower 40's at night, although it usually gets to the freezing point at least one night every winter.  A very cold winter day out here will be in the low 50's.  But we routinely have pockets of lovely weather at the most unexpected times, and so will often have days of temperatures in the upper 70's in January!  (Such a difference from the Midwest, eh?)

But then, in the summer we have lots of fog, and our trees do an excellent job of keeping us cool in the shade, so while our area often sees temperatures up to the 80's (if the temps stray into the 90's that's unusual), our peak temperature in our yard is the upper 70's.  Usually the temperature of our yard in the summer is in the 70's all summer long--at the warmest parts of the day!   And anywhere here on Monterey Bay or San Francisco Bay just north of us you are just as likely to have cold, foggy days with temperatures in the upper 50's and lower 60's.  As Mark Twain famously said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco." ; )

So, it does not really ever get very hot where we live, nor does it ever get very cold.  We don't get snow, and only get frost a few times a year.  Although, there was that hail storm in March of '06. . . .

So, weather anomalies can happen, but they are rare. : )  I think the hail lasted all of 35 minutes before it melted.  But gardeners all over the area remember that hailstorm, for the damage it did to our Spring flowers. 

Oh, and about those blackberry vines--we still have them aplenty down on the lower slope of our yard before the creek.  But they are hard to get to there, so we don't actually harvest many berries, although the kids love to pick what they can reach.  But when the vines grew up the neighbor's deck supports, we had so many more, and they were so easy to reach!

So convenient for picking to make ink out of, when we had our Colonial America homeschool "camp" with friends, in the summer of '08:

We tried our best to dress like Colonial girls for the event.  You'll recognize these dresses, Mother!

My mismatched blacks and panty lines bug me, but hey I was pregnant with Smiley, and hosting a day of fun educational activities for five eager little girls, so won't apologize for how I looked. ; ) 

 
So, I do miss that lush, easy-to-reach wall of natural goodness there at the side of our yard.  And I have even toyed with the idea of asking the neighbors if we could put up some attractive metal supports to grow more plants there against the side of their deck scaffolding. . . . but we have more necessary projects to work on first.

In the meantime, like everything else in my life, I will just try to ignore the unattractive, less than ideal things about my yard, and try to focus on its beauty and blessing.

blessing of the week: my backyard

The other morning it was just so pretty outside--the light just hitting the treetops and sending its glow through our little woodsy backyard--that I slid open the antique wooden window and leaned out to get a few photos. 

The view straight down from the bathroom window. 

I was tempted to just post the photos without any commentary.  But remembering the last time I posted a photo of my yard and the endearing admiration that ensued in the comments (I'm looking at you, Jessica), I feel I must give you the pretty pictures within their real-life context. ; )  No Pinterest faux-idealism here!

I confess, my yard looks so much prettier in the photo above than it does in real life, because I carefully held the camera so I would not capture the huge and rotting deck of our neighbors over to the left.  That part of the yard used to be attractive too, because their wooden deck supports, which tower over our sloping lower yard, served as a scaffolding for huge and prolific blackberry vines.  But once the neighbors relocated their (illegal) laundry water run-off, which had watered those vines for years, the vines shriveled up and became a dead eyesore and fire hazard, and were finally removed.  So now we have a clear view to the whole bare under-deck, which is ugly and a little creepy.  So it's fun to see my yard in these photos without that deck so prominent in it.

Same view, wider angle and slightly to the right

What looks like a charming dirt path though the forest is really just the place over the septic tank that is not yet restored to full wild foliage after last year's excavations.  My wild calla lilies are still doing well; you can see the right hand clump of blooms, but I could not capture the left-hand clump without also getting that under-deck.  I so love flowers that thrive without any attention from me! 

The real path down to the lower yard is behind that huge fern on the right.  And if you double-click on the photos to see them enlarged, you might be able to see some of our big paving stones sitting at the foot of the path (in the hollow of that burned-out redwood stump), waiting for the day when we actually use them to make steps and a patio.  And if you look very closely to the far right, you might be able to see a shadow with straight lines; that would be our lower deck, just a wooden platform where the kids play under the redwoods.

Now same view, just looking beyond the forefront

Another view of the big stump and the edge of the lower deck beyond.  At the time of morning I took these photos, the sun was just beginning to peek down into the yard, and you can see how dark the shadows can be under all our trees.  But by early afternoon, that lower deck is the sunniest spot in the yard, and a favorite place for the kids to take their lunch.  The lower deck is right above another fairly steep but not very high slope down to the creek.  Because of all the old houses with ancient septic systems that I imagine could possibly leach into the creek, I don't really want the kids playing in the water; when they are all old enough to explore without getting it in their mouths, I will likely feel differently.

Here's another, old photo thrown in just for perspective--to give you a feel for just how big that old burned out stump is:

Years ago now, I took this photo from our back deck.

Same starting spot as the next to last image, just looking up

The exact same tree, growing next to the old burned stump, as it goes up.  That poor tree--it was smothered by years and years of vine growth when we moved in, and we hired an arborist to clear it off, but as you can see it must be difficult to wield a chainsaw delicately when you are suspended 50 feet in the air and can't really see what you are doing for the feet-deep vine leaves (the vines themselves were so thick--an inch diameter--and so woody that we burned them in the fireplace!).  The other tree you can see to the right also has some dead vines and needs a trim of secondary foliage along the trunk, but it is not cheap to hire professionals with chainsaws to dangle 50 feet in the air, so we're deciding we don't mind the tree's scruffy look.

Further to the right, still looking up.  It's really hard to take pictures of the trees in your yard when they are 200 feet high.

You can see the cheerful spring morning sun highlighting the trees--too bad I can't capture the sounds of all the backyard birds in the morning.  A beautiful cacophony!  I don't have a good enough ear to distinguish all the calls and figure out how many different kinds of birds we have living in our greater backyard area, but I would say at least ten varieties.

By the time you get to these trees, you are looking at the right-hand border of our yard.  The property is only 50 feet wide in front, and angles slightly wider by the time you get to the creek, where our property ends at the back,  but it is still a small yard.  However, with no neighbors opposite us on the other side of the creek, and our right-hand neighbor's structures hidden by trees, our yard seems wilder and much bigger.

I purposefully did not lean out and pan to the right far enough to get our own upper deck in these photos--it is as much of an old eyesore as our neighbor's. ; )  But there are three more redwoods that are not in these photos, smack up against the back deck.  A family of acorn woodpeckers lives in one, so we have the joy of watching them--one Spring a group of fledglings were learning how to fly, waaaaaay up there!  So cute to see the young ones clinging to the tree as they got brave enough to try to fly.  Another of the redwoods next to the deck hosts a colony of honeybees.  They settled into the neighborhood a couple of years ago.  They are too far up to disturb us, but we have to be careful on the deck now, because bees apparently don't live very long, and it is commonplace to walk out on the deck and find dying bees lying around.  Not good for little kids and bare feet.  But Sunny has a hobby of  carefully collecting the bee bodies and transferring them off the deck into parts of the yard she has designated the "infirmary" and "hospice" and "graveyard."  Sunny, looking over my shoulder and seeing what I am typing, wants me to tell you that she has "78 bees alone, not counting the abdomens, heads, wings, and the one exoskeleton." 

I'm sure there's education in there somewhere.  

The three redwoods near the deck have grown from the old stump of one even bigger redwood.  That old stump--it and the other stumps in the yard--are left over from the clearing of the Santa Cruz mountains redwoods to rebuild San Francisco after the quake and fire of 1906.  Redwood stumps decay to leave big hollows in the middle, which are perfect for kid playhouses.  That particular stump has a 5-foot diameter hollow in the center (the whole stump is about 7 feet diameter). Last week Happy had a friend over, and together they took fallen redwood branches and laid them over the top of the stump as a roof scaffolding, and then laid an old sheet across the branches for the roof.  They took kid sized chairs and tables and Happy's tea set inside, and made a cozy little house.  Below is a picture we took of her in it, after they were picking up and had already taken down the sheet. 

Yes, it is rather ironic that she had so much fun making her own little cozy house out of a redwood, when she lives in a cozy little house made of redwood.  We just love cozy little redwood houses!

So, there's a look into our backyard, and one of the things in my life that brings me joy on a daily basis.

In his own words--an older adopted boy writes

My Dear Husband does the taxes.  My contributions are 1) helping him find and collect all the necessary papers, and 2) entering in the donations, since we itemize things we give away.  This year while we were figuring out which of the donations to adoptions were tax-deductible, I re-discovered Shen--another older boy who had been in the same dreadful situation as Sebastian and Joseph, about to age out of the orphanage.  Except Shen was in China, where orphans are emancipated at the even earlier age of 14.   Many people donated to his adoption fund and spread his name and face around the blogsphere, and his family found him right before it was too late.

Shen is now in the US, and goes by the name Colin.  His adoptive parents just this Easter returned from adopting their third and fourth boys from China!  So I was very glad to be reminded of this boy, and to see how his family's story has progressed in such a beautiful way.

As I went through his mom's blog, I saw that he too has started a blog, as a way to share his own experiences as an older adoptee, in the hopes that he might help other families and kids.  This post, which he guest wrote for another adoption advocate's blog, was so special to read:

I often felt alone over these years.  No one was there to help me.  No one to fight for me; to defend me. I had to lean on myself and be smarter than the rest.   Now I think back to that time and I realize that I was not alone.  Because God was always with me.  When my birthmom placed me in the Hallway as a baby,  He allowed my foster Mom to find me behind a stairwell.  He was protecting me and did not let me die.  When I lived in the orphanage,  he kept me safe when others tried to hurt me.  Then, when my time to be adopted was almost gone (14),  He brought my new family from America to me.  All those years,  He was working out the details of my life to bring me here to be a Rylands. 

I don't know why God chose him to be adopted.  Or Sebastian.  Or whether or not Joseph will have a family, and why not.  But I agree with Colin that God is always with all of them, and I pray that they will find peace, love, joy, purpose--whether it is within the bounds of a traditional family or not.

But I am praying most that they do find families.
 

It's WORKING! please keep praying, keep sharing!

I just this afternoon found out through the adoption grapevine that Sebastian has just been moved to the "My Family Found Me" page of Reece's Rainbow!  Oh, that is just so wonderful.  No word yet who the family is, but I hope we learn soon!  That is one blog I would love to lurk. ; )

But it just makes me so so so happy to have the whole body of Those Whose Hearts Have Been Turned rise up and pray, and share, and cry, and consider if they themselves just might be the ones who are supposed to Make a Difference to a child in need.  (If you missed the comments to my last post on Sebastian, you should go back and read them--made my week!)

Advocates for Sebastian are of course thrilled, although we should all keep praying that nothing goes wrong in the proceedings in these last few days--sometimes families step forward and then find there is some reason they are disqualified or cannot proceed, even if they desire it.  But those who were crying out for Sebastian are now trying to get similar attention for another boy who has come to attention, who has the same dire amount of time left!

This is "Joseph."  Oh, how I wish his Reece's Rainbow profile was as detailed and winning as Sebastian's!  We can't get a feel for this boy, just know that he wants to be in a family. 

But that, to me, still says so much. 

Just think about the almost 16 year old boys you might know.  How many of them would claim to want the security of a mother and father?  To want to place themselves under the authority of parents?  Most kids I can think of would claim to want to be treated like adults--to strive for their independence.  They imagine they are old enough and savvy enough to be on their own, making their own choices.  Sure, they might fully admit they are glad to have a safe home and loving parents, but they have that fledgling spirit of Self, and are looking forward to emancipation, to adult freedom.  That is their expected goal.

So for an almost 16-year-old boy (esp. one who has grown up already suffering the hard knocks of orphanage life and health issues) to say he wants a family, to put his heart out there in hope, even as he is reaching the point of his own emancipation. . . . This is a boy who has an idea of what the world will be like for him, and he knows it is not likely to be good.  This is a boy who is admitting he desires love and safety and belonging, when so many boys his age would be boasting about their plans when they are finally out on their own.  

I am especially concerned about his medical concerns. I have never heard of those specific diagnoses, but it says he has suffered from "reoccurring infections."  Oh, that is a child who needs someone to be caring for him!  To be in a country, a city even, where medical attention would be available to him.  But I have a feeling there won't be. I don't even want to think about what that would be like, to be someone who needs medical attention and can't get it. . . .

It just occurred to me.  If he is considered "special needs" then maybe he would not be emancipated, but institutionalized.  If the state thought he would not survive out in the world, maybe in their mercy they would send him to an institution. . . essentially sentencing him to a life of imprisonment. 

I don't know what this boy's future holds, but without a family, it is very bleak. 

Can you all please join me in praying for Joseph too?  Would you please share his face, his need around your social circles? 

Please share, and please pray

There is a boy who is finally getting some attention about his adoption availability--now, when it is almost too late!  "Sebastian" is a boy who turns 16 in 10 days, so he has that long to find a family.  If no one claims him as their son, on his 16th birthday, he will be escorted out of the orphanage doors, with maybe a few dollars and the clothes on his back.  He will not have a place to live.  He will not have a job.  He will not have any more schooling.  He will be ostracized by his culture for his orphan = outsider status.  He will be on his own, expected to fend for himself, with no resources available to help him get on his feet in the world.  All at the age of 16. 

Some of the kids learn pretty good self-protective instincts in the orphanage, and they can adjust somewhat better to the hard-scrabble life awaiting them outside.  But even for these kids, the lack of options lead to extremely high rates in crime involvement, prostitution, and suicide. : ( 

Some kids just seem like they are on the brink--that they would still, at 15, be excellent additions to a family. That they would thrive and learn and end up doing well in life.  Maybe even growing up to be people who are actively striving to make the world a better place, in God's name.  But if they don't end up in a family, they will be those kids who flail, who fall, who crumble, who give in to the sad and harsh parts of life. 

I don't think I'm over-romanticizing the matter.

"Jonathan"--now Andrew--is an excellent example of the latter child.  Please visit his mother's post today to hear her perspective on the older boy adoption.

And then please go read about Sebastian, and hear why he sounds like such an excellent child to adopt, here.  I know most of you reading are not in the position to miraculously swoop down and give him a home--but maybe you could share his face and info around your own social networks so maybe he will be found by the people who are his parents?   (Just please copy one of these above links, and not post my blog link. Unless you are absolutely sure we are not in the same facebook circles. ; )

And most of all, would you all please pray?  It worked for Andrew.  We asked God (a lot of us pleaded!) and He granted our desires for Andrew.  Would you please pray that He would do the same for Sebastian?

I thank you from the bottom of my heart.





 

time to pull up your chair to the table!

Friends, whomever still comes by my little blog,

The Mulligan Stew adoption fundraiser/giveaway is coming down to its last week.  It is amazing (not in a good way) that this year there have only been 120 donors so far.  Last year they had 500.  That's a LOT of caring people--where are those people this year?  The prizes are great, and the total worth is around $5,000.  I am sure you can all do the math and figure out that even with just one $5 donation you have pretty good odds of winning something right now. ; )  Personally, I'd rather the odds get worse for me, and better for those kids.  But winning a prize would be fun too!

AND there are several matching grants available for some of the kids and families, and one is only for the next 24 hours!   If you have not yet visited Julia's blog, would you please go over and consider making a donation?  Any size will do! 

I confess something--I will never, ever ask any of my friends or family if they donated to any cause close to my heart.  It's not my business, and I never, ever want anyone to feel like they have to support orphans just because I do--hopefully God is calling each of us to our own life ministries, and that is enough.  But I admit when Julia posts the first names of the people who donated, and I see a familiar name, my heart gives a little leap.  Maybe that's my Susan!  Maybe that's my Rebecca!  I don't know if it is or not, but it is fun to imagine.  I'm sure even if it is a different Susan and Rebecca, I will always have this extra warm little spot in my heart for you ladies, just in case that was you. ; )

If it was you, thank you. 

So I will never ask any of you if you ever helped ransom any orphans.  But on this Sunday morning, the Lord's Day, I am going to ask you if you would please share the Mulligan Stew giveaway with people you know.  Would you please consider sharing the links with your family and friends?  On facebook, on your own blog, in an email? 

If you do, thank you.

Mexicanish Heart-Peace Fruit Salad

The fruit salad is totally easy--it's the heart-peace that's the hard part. ; )

Seriously--the salad was so easy and so yummy and complements Mexican foods so well that I thought I would share the "recipe" with you.  I made it up, but I am sure you could find other fruit salads like this online if you want ideas to improve upon it.

--pineapple (1 whole fresh would be great, but a largish bag of frozen pieces is perfectly fine--that's what we did)
--mango (same. I don't know how to tell when a mango is ripe--I can't eat them because of allergies. So we found frozen pieces.)
--large bunch red or purple grapes, washed (green grapes are fine too--whatever you think is prettiest.  Halve them longways if you are as paranoid as I am about children choking. Otherwise, just leave them whole, like I did last night for the guys!)
--1 lime
--small bunch fresh mint leaves

Just put all fruit pieces in a big bowl.  Squeeze your lime (wash it first!) into a little cup so you make sure seeds don't get in the salad.  You can use either half or a whole lime--do it to your taste.  Wash and tear the mint leaves and add to the bowl.  The more lime you use, the more mint you will want as well. Mix all thoroughly and voila!

Of course this would be best made when the fruits are in season.  But if you ever happen to need a quick and easy dish for an event, say a men's Mexican pot-luck, frozen works great too!

muckety-muck--the update

Just thought I would let everyone who cares know how that last post turned out. : )

I blogged and cried and showered and then went and got the kids from their testing site, along with Becky's kids.  We went straight to her house, for their play practice (it's a child-led production, directed by Becky's girls, of Peter Pan.  They are rehearsing all week and the show will be next Monday evening.  Should be fun!), and I asked Becky if she would watch Smiley so I could run to the store without kids, and she responded, enthusiastically, "Of course! Absolutely!"  It's not that he would have hindered me, but he had already climbed out of the car to run after the girls, and I knew he would be no trouble at all, and it seemed like maybe a good day to get a kid break.  I went to the grocery store, and then called DH from the parking lot.  I asked if he had decided what he wanted to take, and said I was at the store and could pick up what he needed.  He said he thought the salad idea sounded good.  So I went in and got those things and a little fresh mint to toss in too, since I thought I would go home and make the salad for him, to complete the heart-change.  (The penance after confession, so to speak.)

But then after I got the groceries home, then went to get the kids, then got them settled down for a MUCH needed quiet time (them this time, not me!), and had something to eat and then got them all roused again to pick up before dinner and then did dishes and started dinner--before I knew it DH was home and I had not made the salad.  So I guided him instead, and I appreciated DH being a big boy in the kitchen and taking the overall responsibility upon himself.  I helped too, like tearing the mint and helping him find things like the colander and showing him how to wash fruit.  So we did it together, and that was a nice way to resolve the earlier conflict (which, remember, was likely all churning in my own head and heart--he may have been completely oblivious). 

He's still at men's group, and I finally got the kids in bed and am settling down to finish that cookie and tea and Jane Austen's Emma on Netflix. 

And when he comes home, I'll ask him how it went and how they all liked the salad (and I have a feeling he will said, "It went well. They liked it." Because my husband is really as predictable as my dear Becky in some of his responses. ; )

And then we will have some time together.  And I will make sure my heart stays soft--to him, to God. 

I hope you all have a very good evening too, however you spend it.

muckety-muck heart--time for Truth!

(Fair warning--now that I have finished seeing what my fingers would type this morning, it is pretty self-indulgent muck.  So, if you are at all interested in reading disgruntled pampered housewife stuff, please continue.  If you are having your own hard season--please don't read this.  It might be a trigger for you.  If you do read it, please hear my battered heart speaking, and don't be cruel.  I am laying out my ugly to expose it for what it is, so I can try to sweep it away more fully.  And because maybe my ugly will resonate with your own ugly, and you will be glad I shared it so you don't have to. ; ) 

I have the rare free morning today--my three girls are at their first day of the State-mandated STAR (standardized) testing.  My dear Becky took her girls and mine (we have to drive up to the site in the Santa Cruz mountains, so a good 30 minutes away, much more with traffic), and in a few hours I need to drive up to collect them again.  But in the meantime, Smiley is content with DH's touchpad, playing Angry Birds on my bed while I am here at the computer.  I just finished reading blogs and drinking my tea.  It feels like I should do something really good with this rare moment of quiet--at the very least, blog! 

But I'm kinda brain-dead, and my spirit is a little dry.  I don't feel very conversational.  And I'm definitely feeling a little negative.  So. . .  I think I'll tell you a story about my morning, just a few minutes of the day that speak volumes. 

My Dear Husband, at 8:50 this morning (as he was supposed to be heading out the door to pick up his carpool buddy), comes to me and starts a conversation, supposedly about "getting my recommendations."  Turns out tonight his men's group at church is having a Mexican-themed potluck.  Um, hmmm. 

So, DH, what are you going to take?  Uncomfortable silence as he thinks what to say. Yes, I am getting the feeling at this point that he wants me to volunteer, brightly, to whip up something for him to take. I'm not wanting to volunteer.  I want him to ask, if that's what he wants, and not hem and haw.  It's a hot button topic for me in our marriage--me feeling like I'm treated like I'm the house slave.  Not attractive of me to confess, but there you go. I'm still not fully reconciled to housewifery as my Dear Husband, that 1950's throwback, enjoys it.  It feels too often like those duties are beneath his attention, and yet I'm supposed to eagerly fulfill them, nay, anticipate them.  So it feels like at this moment, in my hard-heartedness, the least he can do is actually ask me to do it, if that is what he wants.

Last time you took chips and salsa, so are you planning on stopping by Trader Joe's on your way to church?  He thinks someone else is bringing chips and salsa.  (Smiley at this point is interrupting and I divert my attention away from DH for a moment to get Smiley to stop.  DH walks off and starts to get ready to leave.  I can tell my husband is frustrated, so I initiate resuming the conversation, so he knows I care about his Mexican pot-luck "recommendations" request.)

You indicated you wanted recommendations.  Was that all, or was there something more you wanted to ask about?  He says something about not knowing what to take, and wanting suggestions. Um-hmmmm.

Well, what about salad?  That's not really Mexican, but you could stop at TJ's and grab a couple of bags of pre-made salad, and they have some really good fresh cilantro salad dressing you could put on top. He does not comment, but does not seem to like this idea.  He pulls out his touchpad to show me the spreadsheet of what the other guys are bringing. Looks like someone else is bringing chips and dip.  And, honestly, there looks like plenty of food already in the works.  Not sure they really need more, but I applaud DH's instinct not to show up empty-handed.  He asks me what category it looks like they might still need food for.

Well, nobody is bringing fruit.  You could do that. And I suggest he take a big bowl and spoon and clean knife with him, and stop at TJ's to buy grapes, frozen pineapple chunks and frozen mango chunks and just toss it all into a big bowl and squeeze a lime over it and call it a salad. Easy, and would complement Mexican well.

He asks, with a hint of skepticism in his voice, if I think fruit goes with Mexican food. My interpretation: He thinks this is not a good suggestion. Fruit is somehow embarrassing, not a worthy contribution to the manly feast.  Either that or he really does not want to put forth any effort whatsoever in his contribution, and running to the store and opening a couple of bags and mixing stuff together sounds like too much of a hassle.  (Which is why it is so perfect for the stay-at-home-wifey to do it, am I right?)

There is another uncomfortable pause.  The weight of the unspoken is heavy in the air, hard to ignore any further, probably like the Fellowship room at church will be after the guys finish all their refried beans.  I give in to the guilt, but still try to word it so he has to at least actually ask me to do this for him.

Well, if you wanted me to, I could make something.  But we don't have the ingredients here, so I would have to run to the store, and I need to get to church to drop off something, and need to pick up the kids when their testing is over, and then take them to play practice. . . . In other words, I've got my day planned, and my planning did not involve running to any grocery stores or making food our family is not going to be eating, and it is not at all convenient for me to have to rearrange my day just because you did not think to mention this culinary need further in advance.

In OTHER words, how dare you infringe upon MY day with your husbandly desires.  I was really looking forward to sitting in my pajamas for a few hours catching up on blog reading and having that big peanut butter cookie I went all Lent without.  And then, even if my errands will take me quite close to various stores, and I might even be able to arrange to do it when I only have one child with me (or even none, since play practice is at Becky's and I am sure she would be glad to watch Smiley while I run to the store), and it makes sense for the stay-at-home parent to do such errands while the working parent is, um, working, I still don't want to do it.  Not without being formally asked.  Not without the spoken recognition of what you are asking me to do for you, to sacrifice for you, of the flaw in your character that makes you ask me to do what is easy for me but which you don't really feel comfortable doing and so naturally look to foist upon me.

In OTHER words, I am such a bitch sometimes.

He wouldn't ask me to go to the store and make food.  So the conversation just fizzled out, unresolved, and he left for work.

It is possible that he wasn't asking because he was trying to be sensitive.  He put out feelers, like we do in any conversation with someone, and we hope they will volunteer their own vision of how they might fit into our wishes, because we don't want people to feel taken advantage of--so much better if their involvement comes from their own willing mouths.  Because if we have to ask, maybe then they will feel like they have to do it, like they can't politely say no.  Sometimes we use this to our advantage. But most of the time we don't like the feeling of someone helping because they felt coerced. 

So that would be really ironic--if DH was attempting to be polite with me, hoping I would offer my help, but I was taking it the opposite and feeling disrespected.  Because if someone wants something, they should be willing to ask for it.  But then, isn't that kind of a power game?  Knowing what the person wants, but refusing to give it to them unless they somehow acknowledge your power as the One Who Can Say Yes or No?  I was thinking of Becky, and how when anyone asks anything of her, she is super quick to say, with natural grace, "Of course, absolutely!"  Immediately makes a person feel loved and supported.  Granted, she is a people pleaser, but ironically so am I.  It's just with my husband I have this bad thing in my heart where I struggle with feeling taken advantage of, feeling unappreciated, feeling like my work is considered menial and not worth his own time or effort, feeling like I have no choice but am viewed as a slave.

Clearly, time for a little Truth to counter all this sin-heavy yuck.

Truth:  My Dear Husband does not actually treat me like a slave.  He is just a normal guy, oblivious to some things, but trying to be a good husband overall.  I put my own mental spin on his actions and words to make them unhelpful for my heart.

Truth:  One of our family values, which you will hear me telling my children over and over like a mantra is that in our family, we do whatever is most loving and helpful.  Um, yeah.  Way to go, there, setting the standard for everyone else in the house.

Truth:  God calls me to be His servant.  To spend my life serving.  It is my privilege to serve those I love.

Truth:  It does not feel like that in my heart.  Something wounded, small and angry in my heart makes me very easily resentful of my family wanting things from me.  Most of the time this hard little ball of black fire is very small and tucked away, only flaring up when I am vulnerable and low blood-sugar.  But sometimes it feels like it's right behind my eyes, so hard and hot I want to weep.  Not because I feel so sorry for myself, but because I hate that I even have these thoughts, these feelings.  I fully admit I am not the nicest person to my loved ones at times, and I wish that was not true.

Truth:  Every marriage has "hot buttons" and both parties just need to learn to recognize them (in themselves and in the other), bring them out into the open for what they are, and then together choose to work around them.  I feel like we have been working on such things for years, and sometimes have what feel like real marital/interpersonal breakthroughs, but it depresses me to think how much things like this still can have a hold on me, on him, can so easily interfere with our good married life.

(Once, when we were Seniors in college, he and his roommate were planning to go see a concert of a band I very much wanted to go see, who was one of my favorites in H.S. and who would likely never tour again.  I knew DH was going for a whole week, and even hinted that I would love to go too.  Oh, we were dating at the time--and had been, seriously, for over two years.  I kept thinking he would invite me to go too, and was increasingly incredulous that he hadn't--until the night of the concert, when he came into my apartment a few minutes before they needed to go, and asked if I wanted to come along.  I was so mad at that point--I would not even have time to change clothes, or do my concert-ready makeup, you know, all the stuff a college girl wants to do--and told him if he wanted me to go with him, he should have asked me earlier in the week.  I felt like I had been dissed, big-time.  So I said, no, I did not want to go now, because it was too late.

So, clearly, we are still working through something interpersonal, some unfortunate communication-style, or set of expectations, even now after 5 years of dating and 17 of marriage!  Pathetic. And depressing.) 

Back to more Truth:  I am sure part of my Dear Husband's (unwillingness?  reticence? stubbornness?) lack of clear communication when we are in such an interpersonal horn-lock is due to his family dynamics growing up.  His mother speaks her mind very freely about anything she has an opinion on, but does not come right out and say anything she wants. There is such a fascinating and important distinction here--she does not want to place herself in the less powerful (i.e. more vulnerable) position of being the Asker.  And I think she is insecure (as many of us are) about how her wants will be viewed by others--for all that she is quick to comment, advise, etc. on other people's lives, she is actually very private about her own personal things.  Instead, she hints at what she wants, and tries to get you to do it through less vulnerable (and ultimately less pleasant) methods, like scolding, ranting, deriding or applying guilt.  DH's father just does not say much at all, and has learned over the years to just be as accommodating as possible.  So where would DH have learned to communicate differently?   He usually does a great job communicating well with me.  But sometimes he does not--just hints and then gets mad if I don't do what he wanted, because he insists "I knew" what he wanted and was just pretending I didn't know, because I don't love him.

Most of the time this is not true.  Every now and then, it is.  Like this morning. 

Now, I don't know for sure what he wanted this morning.  That's another legitimate reason why I wanted him to spit it out.  But I had a very strong idea.  And I chose to make him struggle with knowing what to say, allowing him (wanting him?!) to feel guilty about whatever he wanted.  Let me clarify--I did not want him to feel guilty about wanting me to make something.  But I wanted him to acknowledge that 1) he was asking something of me that was a little bit of a big deal, that 2) he should have remembered to plan for and ask me about sooner, that 3) it's not fair to expect me to do things for him that he is not willing to do for himself.

More Truth:  Going to the store and making food is inconvenient, but not really a big deal.  Esp. today, when I have so much flexibility with my time (except for those specific times today when I don't).

Truth: Yes, he should have remembered.  Yes, he should have asked me sooner. But we just got back from spending Easter with his family, and yesterday were in "getting back into the headspace of regular life" mode and while I spent some time looking at the calendar and making sure I was not forgetting something important, I have not always remembered to do so.  It could well have been me to forget I needed to prepare food for something.  This is not a personal flaw on his part--it's just life.

Truth:  And so is this personal communication dynamic between us.  No sense in getting mad and trying to punish either of us over it--just move on and get refocused on what I want our marriage to BE not dwell on whatever negative it sometimes is.

Truth:  I'm not really mad at him.  I'm just feeling a little weary, and feeling taken for granted is a sore spot for me.  And I really need to cut him some slack, considering *he was likely not asking because he was trying not to be inconsiderate.*  (Well, either that or he wanted me to read his mind and offer, and he is as miffed at me at this moment as I am at him.)  But I need to assume the best of my spouse, esp. since I have specifically asked him in our marriage to try to assume the best of me.   

Truth:  If he had asked me, and just said, "I'm sorry this is short notice--I forgot all about it.  Do you think you could do this for me?" I would have likely sighed and not been nearly as gracious as my dear Becky, but I would have said "Sure." And I would be going about my day without any further negative thoughts on the matter.

And you would have been spared this overly long, somewhat depressing post.

Final Truth:  I am at this moment focused on myself, and not God.  That changes everything, and makes me forget that I serve Him and not myself. 

Time to lay down myself.

You would think it would be hard to forget how Jesus laid down himself for me, so soon after crying over His sacrifice in the church service Easter morning.

You would think I would remember our Scripture reading from last week, about how Jesus, knowing what he would do for all of humankind, told those who wanted to follow him to "take up your cross daily."  He knew it would be hard.  It would be painful.  It would not come naturally, and we would have to choose to do it, over and over.  Choose to lay aside our own worldly desires.  Choose to take up that which means the very death of our sinful (and self-focused) natures. 

Christ died so that I could happily make my husband some Mexican food.  So that I would have complete freedom from the bondage of sin to fully love.

Crying now.  He's got me where He wants me.  I  am sooooooooo ashamed. 

But the tears release that hot hardness that was locked inside me today.  This path of thought--this time spent blogging, of all things--has shown me my wickedness, and has brought me to repentance.

Once again, in His mercy, He meets me right where I am.  And He lifts me up out of the muck of my own heart!



My husband is not perfect.  I'm not perfect.  But God's love is Perfect, and it covers all wrongs.

Thank God.