Cecily

How does the creator of this cartoon know so much about my life?

Fruit grower

For years I've been pondering the fruit of the spirit - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and self-control. How do you really get them in your life anyway?

I've tried 'trying harder'. But forcing love just makes me more bitter and cross at the end of the day. I've tried praying and have asked frequently for supernatural injections of love and patience but the results have been disappointing.

It struck me the other day that perhaps I am attempting to 'manufacture' fruit instead of preparing the conditions for the fruit to grow naturally. Rather than focus on the fruit itself, I need to look more closely at where it is growing.

So taking a roundabout look at each of the fruits of the spirit in turn, and what they need to blossom may be more helpful. It will give me an interesting picture of what life 'in the Spirit' might look like.

For example: I find it hard to be patient when:
- I'm rushing
- I have expectations of other people that they don't share
- I am focused on the things I 'need to do' or I'm trying to do too much.
- I have a lot in my head at once.
- I forget about the real goal or purpose of my life.
- I have not slept or eaten properly.
- I am not rested sufficiently.
- I am angry and have not told the truth about my feelings.
- I am worried.

So from this I know I need to slow down - in both physical speed and emotional intensity. I need to take care of myself in terms of food and rest. I need to tell the truth and not hide my feelings. I need to be sensible in what I am trying to do and understand what I can take on. I need to give up my need to be a superhero and achieve everythign. I need to organise myself with enough time, or else be willing to give up deadlines.

With enough steady slow watering, my patience will grow!

A truly amazing book

I've been reading a little more of this book. It requires taking small bites rather than swallowing great slabs because every paragraph of every page is so full of treasures.

Sittser is in the unenviable position of having lost his wife, mother and daughter in one car accident. A Grace Disguised tells some of his journey of faith through the hard years following his loss. I was moved by the story he tells about moving through his pain.

Immediately following the funeral, Sittser fell into a despairing darkness. At the time he thought he would never emerge from it. A few nights later he had a dream where he was alone on a vast plain. The sun was setting - going further and further west, and he could see that however far he ran, he would never be able to reach the light. He felt that the darkness would swallow him up.

He talked about the dream to his brother, a pastor and poet. For him, it called to mind a poem by John Donne, where west meets east. His sister in law then told him that the quickest way to reach light is apparently not to run west, chasing it, but to run east, into the darkness.

Sittser took a decision to 'run east' and accept and embrace his loss rather than deny it. It didn't make it easier for him to bear it, but it helped him to know that he would see the strains of daylight sooner.

Cubby progress

All the walls are up. Now to finish the cladding, re-fix the window and put the roof on. After that, I hand over to interior decorator hubby to make it pretty!

Another challenging morning

I got enough responses to my 'alarming morning' post that I thought I would share my other recent challenging morning.

The first thing to know is that I have a cross-dressing two-year old. He only puts on boys clothes if he's going out. His preferred outfits are his sister's pink floral dresses. He wears her shoes everywhere and he loves playing with Barbies.

Sunday mornings I am on my own. Andrew is normally already at church by the time the kids are awake and its up to me to get everyone dressed, fed, groomed and out the door for the 9:30 service.

On this particular morning, the two year old who had been dressed correctly, found the pink floral dress about five minutes before we had to leave. He undressed completely and put it on.

I was in a rush and he wasn't going to take off the 'pink', so I put him in the car with the intention to dress him once we got to church before he got out of the car.

We arrived to find no spots in the concreted car park, so had to park under the trees. But it had been raining and the dirt had turned to MUD. I opened the door and started to dress the little boy. So far so good, but then something happened that never ever ever happens: my five year old got out of the car by himself. Normally this would be a great achievement. The only problem was that he slid his feet (no shoes) straight down into the MUD.

So I had a half-dressed toddler squirming to get out, a five year old screaming with muddy feet. The complicating factor in all this was the new cream upholstery in our brand new car.

Somehow I managed to wipe feet, keep seats clean, dress a kid, put on shoes and get both of them out and into the church building so that I could head to the kitchen and prepare the morning tea I also had to carry in with me.

However, I made a fatal mistake.

The toddler wanted that pink dress so much that I let him carry it inside with him. While I was busy in the kitchen, he went to the creche, took off all his clothes and put the pink dress on again.

The next thing I knew was my son was running through the church hall dressed in a pink floral dress with a huge grin on his face. I swiped him up and plonked him back in the car, whipped the dress off and got rid of it. He started to tantrum and refused his clothes. I had to leave him naked in the car while I went back to get the five year old who can't cope without me at church.

In the end, it was a matter of waiting out the tantrum. You can normally time his episodes to about 25-30 minutes. Once he'd cried it out, he was happy to get dressed in his shorts and head into church.

Amazingly, I was laughing. It was an amusing morning! And you can see a picture of the dreaded pink dress in the photo of our cubby house two posts below!

An alarming morning

Thursday is the morning I do the preschool run. It's rarely straight-forward, but this morning it was especially interesting.

It began about 8.30 just as I was finishing packing the boys lunch. The two year old was so excited to be going that he began emptying his bag and eating his lunch. Mess everywhere.

Then my nine-year old came in in a state of panic. She had a harp lesson at 10am and was looking for her tuning key. "Have you seen it? Where is it mum?"

I suggested she look in the special place where we had decided she should keep it. No tuning key. We walked around the house looking in the obvious places, but still no tuning key. I rang the RSL club on the chance I might have left it there last Sunday (hockey presentations... long story), but no tuning key.

"We'll have to check at church," I said and proceeded to repack the two year old's bag and get him and his sister into the car.

Then it was time to move the five year old. He has autism, and hates transitions. I had to pick him up screaming and calm him down to put him in the car, having already put in his shoes and bag.

We then went on the drop off. Thankfully the younger son was easy. He literally danced in. It was just as well because the five year old was NOT GOING TO PRESCHOOL MUM!
"I'm Going Later Mum. I'm Missing Preschool. It's Locked. I Want To Go Home!!!" All at the top of his voice in full screaming mode as I drove the car down the hill.

I wrenched him out of the car and we sat on the kerb for a while. The preschool teacher finally heard the din and came out to help. Together we got him through the gate and spent ten minutes trying to calm him down to no avail. Meanwhile, there were parents coming in and out asking me kindly, "Are you ok?" "Is it his first time here?" I just couldn't tell them that he's been coming all year and except for maybe four mornings, he's cried every time.

In the middle of this, the new car alarm went off. My daughter was sitting inside and unlocked the door. I wasn't quite sure what to do, but pressing enough remote buttons on the key thankfully shut it down.

Finally I got him inside and left. The next task was to find the tuning key. We turned into the church carpark and I noticed there were no cars parked, which meant probably there was no one there, which meant I would have to negotiate the building alarm. I don't know the password!

I took a punt that there might just be someone inside, or perhaps that the alarm was off, so I unlocked the door, but my punt sank. As soon as we got inside, the siren wailed and whined.

I decided I wouldn't waste an open door, so went to look for the tuning key anyway. My ears are pretty used to high pitched screeches by now! Wouldn't you know it - it wasn't there! (The alarm reset itself when I left and I took a call from security checking I wasn't a robber.)

We prayed before we went home that we would find the tuning key. The harp has 30 strings, and it was sounding pretty bad, so we definitely needed to tune. We walked in and the second place I looked was inside the piano stool.

"Oh yeah," said my daughter. "I remember now. I put it in there!"

Cubby progress

Here's the progress on the cubby house. We put the walls up today on the first room.

Below you can see my carpentry teacher and next door neighbour who came up with the plans for this mansion. He has designed it so that it can be unbolted and moved, should we shift sometime in the future.

My other neighbour in the picture came in to see what the excitement was all about!
There will be another room on the side (where the walls are not completed) - the 'writing room' according to my daughter.

Next task is to make the frames and floor for room 2, clad them and put them up. We'll work on the roof at the end.

Bread

I got really hungry for chappati bread (unleavened flat bread from Pakistan) the other day, so I decided to make some.

Unfortunately it turned out tough and burned. Not good enough by half. It certainly didn't measure up to my memories of eating our friend Izzat's chappatis in Rattanbad when we lived in Pakistan.

Thank goodness for the internet. I looked up how to make chappatis and came up with a few tips which made the following day's attempt a lot more acceptable.

Here's how I did it.

I mixed half wholemeal flour and half white flour with a little salt and enough water to make a soft, sticky dough. Apparently this makes a softer chappati. I kneaded it in my Whizz Power Mix for about five minutes and let it rest for half an hour.

Then I rolled out small balls nice and flat - the edges need to be flatter than the sides so that it helps the chappati puff up. Mine are not quite round. I wish I was more perfectionistic and could get them perfectly circular. Oh well. They all go down the same way.

I cooked them in my heavy wok - although it's not quite right. They would have done better over gas, but it was ok with an electric burner. The pan was pretty hot. I cooked one side and pressed down gently with a tea towel to help it puff up in the middle. Then cooked the other side.

Unfortunately I ate way way way too many of these. Then I did something even worse and deep fried them to make poori. Even more yummy, but bad for the waistband of my jeans...

Love/hate

Thanks to my husband's inspiration, I will compile a love/hate list

Love
earrings and shoes
a good project that requires planning and execution
the finished feeling when I complete a good project
showing off my good project
speaking in public
sharing a joke with my children (they think I'm funny)
laughing at my husband's jokes (I think he's funny)
food - in quantity
rollerskating, pilates and a good swim
a nice cup of tea

Hate
making phone calls
organising holidays
taking out the garbage
being interrupted when I'm in the middle of a good project
my susceptibility to RSI
sports interviews on TV or radio
male bravado
female helplessness
the sounds of people breathing or snoring
dripping taps and ticking clocks
when people don't listen

Harping on...

We have found a 30-string folk harp for our daughter to learn to play. It's a beautiful instrument and she's delighted. Already she's learning to play the Cradle Song and practicing her children's band pieces. It sounds gorgeous.

Laughing

Children

My nine year old daughter said today, "Life is like an adventure, and heaven is home."

I said, "You should write that down and use it in a book." She looked at me as if I was crazy.

And it's official. The two year old managed to get through the entire winter without ever putting on a top, jacket or jumper with long sleeves, long pants in a heavier fabric than cotton, or socks with his shoes.

Obsessive escapism or just having fun?

My brain loves a project and I'm really really really loving building my cubby house right now!

This picture shows my latest achievement. I managed to build a side frame with pointy roofy bits AND put in a window ($5 from the tip). I've got another gorgeous old frosted window for another frame.

People ask me how I have time to do this sort of thing. Honestly, I get kind of obsessed over my projects so I sneak half hours here and there to go down and build. I also tend to make decisions like: hmmm, washing or building? cooking or building? cleaning or building? Building wins right now.

As well, I figure I'm doing this for the children's ultimate enjoyment and play. They will LOVE this cubby house and I hope it will get them outside a lot together.

I'm also modelling learning new skills, trying things out and showing that you can make things and make it good with bits and pieces; everything you get doesn't have to be new from the shop. I hope that my children might one day think, "Mum built things and found ways past the challenges, so I can too."

Epic journey

My husband is very good at buying books. It's a skill that doesn't always get my total approval, but his most recent purchase is a real gem.

I've been a bit cross with God recently, mostly over prayer that appears to be unanswered in the way I want so my dear husband found me two books to help. Jerry Sittser is the author of both of them. (I'd tell you the titles, but then I'd have to get up from the computer and walk through the house to get them...)

Sittser lost a mother, wife and daughter in a car accident and is now the single father of the three remaining children. He's been through the wringer and come out the other side and his insights are very very helpful to me.

The idea that is sitting in my head right now is what he says about seeing prayer as an 'epic journey'. You get there in the end, but there are huge ups and downs along the way. Think Frodo and the Lord of the rings. If he'd given up when he met his first obstacle, the ring would never have been destroyed. In the same way, our epic journeys of prayer will not necessarily be straightforward and may well be dangerous and life-threatening.

I'm looking forward to reading the remaining chapters.