little thoughts

advent – the candle of peace

Posted on 2015-12-20 by kristinabean

Peace is at once the simplest and the most profound of the four Advent candles, and it is for me, at least this year, the hardest to understand.

When I think of hope, I remind myself that the brokenness of this life isn’t the final picture – that there is a coming restoration and redemption of all things.

When I think of light, I picture truth and wisdom coming into the ignorance, confusion, and error of our culture.

When I think of joy, I remember that the goodness and grace of God in this world means that there is always something to rejoice about, and it lifts me out of my worry or sorrow.

But peace is so multifaceted, so intricate, so all-encompassing, that I struggle to grasp it. I know it is more than just the cessation of war promised in Isaiah, though that in itself is almost beyond imagining:

It shall come to pass in the latter days
that the mountain of the house of the LORD
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
and shall be lifted up above the hills;
and all the nations shall flow to it,
and many peoples shall come, and say:
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.”
For out of Zion shall go the law,
and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
and shall decide disputes for many peoples;
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war anymore.

I also know that it is more than just the personal peace promised in Philippians, though freedom from worry and fear is almost unthinkable in this life as well:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

My general feeling is that “peace” approximates the overall abundance, beauty, and well-being that will be when Christ returns at the second coming, and because of that it’s not something I’m ever going to be able to imagine completely. All I can do is remember that it is coming – that all things will be made whole and healed, from the despair of a broken heart, to the snapped cords of friendship and lost love, to the diplomatic relations between nations and ethnicities.

family life

messy play

Posted on 2015-12-182015-12-17 by kristinabean

Sometimes I hate messy play because I’m the one who has to clean it up afterwards. Usually, though, I think it is the best – it engages the boys’ tactile systems in unusual ways, gives them a new or uncommon activity to delve into, and provides them an opportunity to create and imagine with different raw material then they’re used to.

Baking is one of my favorite messy plays because it’s highly edible and somewhat productive as well as being a lot to clean up, but outdoors messy play is also nice – not so tasty, but less work for me at the end.

One of our favorites around here is cloud dough (8 parts flour to 1 part coconut oil), which feels like soft, crumbly, slightly moist, moldable sand. I keep it in a box with a few different types of toys: spoons and cups for scooping and dumping, cookie cutters for molding, and a bulldozer for building. Then I set the box on the back patio (I’ve found there are too many distractions out front) and let the boys explore freely.

They typically play together well – Rondel is fairly good-natured about letting Limerick investigate everything he’s doing, and Limerick isn’t particularly aggressive about it. I think it helps with the cloud dough and similar activities that they don’t have a routine in which some toys are the sole possession of one boy or the other. It is always a joint affair.

And, ultimately, while Rondel is busy using the spoon or the bulldozer shovel to scoop cloud dough into the small buckets and cups, Limerick ends up just eating handfuls of it. (That, incidentally, is why I use an edible oil like coconut oil instead of mineral oil or baby oil like many cloud dough recipes call for. It’s also why I don’t use tempura paint to color it like I might when they are older…)

By the end, the cloud dough was everywhere – in their clothes, in their hair, all over the patio – but they were incredibly happy and so was I. The spilled cloud dough had become an opportunity for the bulldozer to build roads, and I was commissioned to bring out one of the HotWheels cars to drive on said roads. The boy who had been wiping off his fingers every few minutes at the beginning of the activity had cloud dough completely covering his legs and arms and was utterly disregarding it 🙂 So, all in all, a great success!

musings, quotes

today and only today

Posted on 2015-12-16 by kristinabean

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Depression feeds into regret – it reminds me of everything I’ve done that I could have done better, makes me feel guilty for every misspoken word or careless act, piles the past onto my head in a tornado of accusations and reminders of failure. And yet, despite all of that focus on the past, it never helps me change anything for the better in the present. All it does is feed me lies and hold me captive in the dungeon of my own mind.

Anxiety feeds into worry – it whispers in my ear all the potential things that could go wrong, catapults my mind to the worst possible conclusion when faced with hints and partial knowledge, makes me cower in fear of the unknown future, promises that I will fail again and something I cherish will be lost forever. And yet, despite all of that focus on the present, it never gives me a practical solution that I can start living out in the present. All it does is feed me lies and hold me captive in the dungeon of my own mind.

A quote like this one won’t free someone from anxiety and depression, but it can be a reminder to me now, when I’m not struggling with those illnesses like I have in the past, that I don’t need to keep listening to the lies they told me then. I can get up each day and do my best. I can pick myself up each hour, ask for forgiveness if necessary, and start again. I can present each minute to God as my gift, regardless of how I failed in the last minute or may fail again in the next minute.

musings

contentment and change

Posted on 2015-12-152015-12-14 by kristinabean

When I’m washing dishes or making dinner and the boys are playing outside, I can watch them through the kitchen window. Occasionally they’ll glance up and notice me, but usually they don’t realize I’m there. In that moment, watching my boys playing happily together in worlds of their own imagining, my heart is completely full of happiness. If those moments could stretch on for an eternity, I don’t think I would ever grow tired of them, or lose the joy of them (well, probably I would because I’m human and need sleep, but you get the idea).

Being a mother and a wife has challenged me socially, emotionally, and practically in a myriad of ways; there are so many aspects of relationship and home-making that are utterly unnatural for me that I’ve had to work and grow a lot over the last few years (and I’m not at all saying that there isn’t still quite a bit of room for improvement, either). But if I’m honest with myself, I feel like I’ve gotten intellectually lazy over those years. When I was in school, I was constantly stretching my mind to learn, to remember, to think critically, to analyze – and I just don’t have the same opportunities for that anymore. My mind is hungry. Sometimes it feels like it’s starving, ravenous for new information to devour and assimilate; sometimes it feels like a dull knife, aching to be sharpened.

I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’ve considered a few graduate programs, but there aren’t any that I can do part-time while I work, afford, and really want to invest the requisite amount of time and money into. Hopefully a door will open soon…

There’s an interesting tension at play here. On the one hand, I want to be able to find contentment and joy where I am, and to a large extent I think I have succeeded. On the other hand, I want to use the skills and talents God has given me, instead of letting them idle, and I don’t think I’m doing that right now, which means “where I am” needs to change. I hope I can seek that change wisely, without letting myself become discontent or resentful about the circumstances I’m living in right now.

family life, musings

Advent – the candle of joy

Posted on 2015-12-132015-12-14 by kristinabean

In the midst of the waiting, in the midst of the sorrows of life, the pain and wickedness in the news, the stress of everyday struggles, there is Gaudete Sunday.

It is a day to remember the coming joy, the enduring joy, that the Baby Jesus is bringing to the world; a day to experience a foretaste of the abundance and redemption that will be after His second coming.

In the midst of our longing, our ache for restoration and healing and justice, there is a reminder that one day, all sorrows will be healed, all wrongs righted, all joy restored.

This season, my mom is doing a fairly good job of embodying that joy for me just through the Christmas spirit and hospitality of her home. Despite a tendency to get somewhat stressed, she loves Christmas deeply and has turned her whole home into a celebration of the season, full of the concomitant happiness and beauty that it entails.

There is joy in the family that holds together with love, in the traditions and celebrations of the family and the church, those two institutions that nurture within them sparks of the coming restoration. There is happiness in seeing the family grow, bringing more people into the reach of the glowing warmth and community of the family heart. And I think of how one day all of us in Christ will be perfectly united as one great family, and I can hardly imagine how great that joy will be.

The joy of Christmas, though it is now only a promise not yet fulfilled, is something we can cultivate in our families, our churches, and our hearts, preparing ourselves and our communities for the restoration, the healing, the coming fullness of joy – because if we can’t experience joy now, if we lock ourselves into the cynicism or despair of a life without the hope of Christ, what chance do we have of living in His joy for eternity? We will have trained ourselves to shut it out.

Joy to the world! The Lord is come;
Let earth receive her king;
Let every heart prepare him room,
And heaven and nature sing,
And heaven and nature sing,
And heaven, and heaven, and nature sing.

musings

some thoughts on prayer

Posted on 2015-12-11 by kristinabean

Often, for me, prayer is a far more challenging spiritual discipline than things like Bible reading, church-going, or even fasting. It can feel forced, awkward, uncomfortable, or contrived at times, when I’m not sure what to say or how to start, and the number of things that I could pray about (whether meditative or petitionary) seems overwhelming.

There’s also something somewhat audacious in the whole act of prayer, particularly in intimate and personal Christian prayer: we are stepping into the presence of someone infinitely more powerful, more righteous, and with more authority than us. If meeting someone like the President or the Queen can make us anxious, how much more coming before the God of the whole universe? It can seem silly to bother someone so important with our small and trivial lives. Even though we as Christians are part of God’s family now, and He cares about every detail of our lives with tenderness and love, it can be hard for us to receive and accept that love and care.

I think, too, our own sin pushes us away from prayer at times. While repentant sin will typically bring me into prayer, sin problems that I kind of don’t want to admit or deal with will freeze my prayer life into silence with amazing rapidity. God has a way, simply in His holiness, of exposing those sins I’ve been hiding or denying, and that can be very uncomfortable or disconcerting!

But despite the discomfort, it is always worthwhile to pray, because prayer is the most relational of all the afore-mentioned spiritual disciplines. It is lifting our hearts and minds to God and remaining with Him in conversation and communion. How can we expect to know Him more, to really be God’s friend and child, if we don’t spend time sharing our heart with Him and listening to His heart? Relationships grow through time together, and with God, prayer is that time together.

A lot of people, with a lot more wisdom and experience than I have, have written about practical steps to improving prayer; I will just add that in my experience, structured meditative prayer is what helps me focus best and feel closest to God. The structure keeps me from feeling overwhelmed about everything I could or should be saying or praying for, and the meditative aspect gives the prayer more connection and communion, rather than leaving me feeling like I’m only shooting requests and needs up to God.

What types of prayer come most naturally and work most effectively for you?

family life, musings

rambling thoughts on taxes and God’s provision

Posted on 2015-12-102015-12-09 by kristinabean

Sometimes, I get these waves of anxiety about our finances (triggered by things like taxes or unexpected expenses). Maybe because I’m the primary breadwinner for our family right now, I tend to worry that I’m not providing well enough, and that something might come up that we wouldn’t be able to handle. I wonder if I’ve made the right choices with regards to my education or my job, or I feel guilty about buying something special, like a carton of ice cream or a shelf. But when I calm myself down and look at my circumstances, I see that those worries are small and insignificant in light of all the abundant ways God has provided for us this year. Remembering those things – focusing on His provision – helps to clear the worry from my mind and replace it with gratitude.

We are blessed by having both our extended families in town, helping us to avoid childcare expenses and (more importantly!) giving the boys deep and special relationships outside of the nuclear family. My parents in particular have blessed us by opening their house to us as often as we want to visit them, and filling up their living room with the timeless toys they’ve saved for all these years. We probably drive over at least once a week so the boys can play in the big house and the big yard with different but still familiar toys, and my parents are gracious enough to make dinner for us when we visit as well! Their generosity has also extended to special times of need in our lives – like when our station wagon needed repairs and they helped pay for the replacement parts, or when my hard drives died and my dad bought me a new one for my birthday (using the birthday as a convenient excuse, I am sure, to make sure I got a better and more reliable hard drive than I might have on my own).

My job has been a blessing as well, even though the salary is low, because it covers my husband’s tuition costs, gives us high-quality, low-cost health insurance, and even subsidizes a bus pass so that we’ve been able to save on fuel and vehicle maintenance.

Our home has also been a huge blessing to us financially: because of God’s past provision, we were able to buy a few years back when the market was still low, so our monthly payments are much lower than they would be if we were still renting, and that is a huge relief. Our location gives us access to many free or inexpensive places to take the boys – the library, multiple parks, Main Street (which is currently extra exciting due to the Christmas tree!), the children’s museum, the dinosaur museum, the fire station, the arts center (which is actually a really neat place to explore) and so on. So our finances haven’t prevented us from giving those experiences to the boys, which something else to be incredibly thankful for.

And honestly, we’ve always had enough so that I didn’t have to worry about groceries or utilities. When I hear of or know people who struggle to make ends meet, to the point where electricity is turned off or they have to skip meals, my little financial worries are put into perspective. We have so much. We have as much as we need, and enough to give to others as well, and any lack is more than made up for by the richness of our family and community. I wouldn’t want to give up my time with the boys for a higher-paying job, or put them in daycare so that my husband could work while finishing school. I don’t regret any of the decisions I’ve made to get us to this point, because I think they were all for the best for our marriage, our children, and our pursuit of God – so I really shouldn’t worry about whether or not He will provide for us. He always has, and He always will.

family life

happy birthday to my husband

Posted on 2015-12-09 by kristinabean

Today is this wonderful man’s birthday:

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My beloved husband, the father of my children, one of the most caring, appreciative, and hard-working men I know.

Every day I see and am thankful for his deep, deep love – love for me, for the boys, and above all for God. I am thankful for his compassionate and thoughtful heart; for the way he notices needs and meets them tirelessly and without seeking attention for it; for the common sense wisdom he shares with me, bringing abstract ideas to life and fruition in the tangible, practical world of everyday life; for his skills and strengths that are so different and complementary to my own.

I see the tender joy on his face when he’s holding one of the babies.

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I see the effort he makes to be a positive force in their lives, bringing them happiness and being goofy with the boys even when he’s tired, worried, or discouraged.

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I see the strength and faithfulness with which he shoulders all his responsibilities as a husband and father, and the love with which he takes on burdens above and beyond those to give someone else (whether it be a family member, a classmate, or a stranger) a helping hand.

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I know you may not be where you pictured yourself being at thirty, but who you are – who God is shaping you to be as you seek Him, who I have seen you growing to be over the last five years, is a beautiful and wonderful thing: a man of godly character, a man who is truly God’s.

Happy birthday, my love, and here’s to many more years together!

family life

a boy and his trains (Grandma’s trains, that is…)

Posted on 2015-12-082015-12-07 by kristinabean

Sometimes I wish I had a window into Rondel’s mind, to know what he’s thinking and imagining as he plays.

He is currently absorbed by trains of all types, having been introduced to them at our local children’s museum, and then having discovered that Grandma had a box of trains saved from my childhood. He’ll spend a small amount of time setting up the track, not worrying about whether it is intricate or even complete, as long as there is something to drive the train on, and then spend the rest of his time lining up the trains, linking them together with their magnetic hooks, pushing them slowly back and forth on the little piece of track right in front of him.

Nothing disturbs his focus. (Not even Grandma!)

He is completely in another world, a world perhaps where giant powerful steam engines chug fiercely down the rails, where light rail trains glide smoothly down the road next to the comparatively tiny cars, where people flock on and off the passenger cars as the trains pull up to the station. Or perhaps he is lost in the details, feeling the rough unfinished tracks and the smooth painted engines, the perfect curves of the wheels or the straight lines of the cars, imagining the freight carried in each crate or channel or bucket, taking pleasure in the effortless connection of one magnet to another, feeling the heft of the train as one engine pulls a whole line of cars behind it down the track. There’s no real way for me to know what captivates him so deeply about the trains.

And he doesn’t play with them the way I remember playing with them. My favorite part of the trains (at least as far as I remember, when I was quite a bit older than Rondel is now) was designing the track, seeing what new configuration I could build with the pieces, creating different loops and tunnels for the trains to traverse.

But even though I don’t fully understand the way Rondel plays, I see his thoughtful and imaginative side, his attention to details, and his love of patterns, connections, and categorizations; I see his joy and excitement about doing something he loves; and I see him playing in a way that allows his mind to develop in its own unique bent, free of the artificial goals and constraints of an adult’s idea of fun or the “proper” way to play. All his senses are involved, his body is unconstrained (as evidenced by how he’s lying on his side to push the trains at eye level…), his imagination is free, his attention is undistracted, and his decisions are internally motivated.

In these moments, I feel like I’m privileged to observe the beauty of self-directed, spontaneous, childhood play, and I’m so glad that my son has the opportunity to experience life and develop in that context. We’re far from perfect, but days like these bring me so much happiness.

musings

Advent: the candle of light

Posted on 2015-12-06 by kristinabean

The people who walked in darkness
Have seen a great light;
Those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death,
Upon them a light has shined.

Of the four candles of Advent (hope, light, joy, and peace), light carries with it the fewest “warm fuzzy” feelings: because, of course, light, in addition to providing wisdom and guidance, showing us the way of life, also brings about the revelation and conviction of sin.

And this is the condemnation, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For everyone practicing evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed.

It clashes emotionally with the joyful and triumphant songs of Christmas to remember one’s sins, and to repent and confess with sorrow. But the lamentation and the confession are necessary to prepare one’s heart for the fullness of that joy and the glory of that triumph; it is impossible, I believe, to truly resonate with the chords of grace and wonder that resound at the birth of Christ while attempting to hide from the light He brings as He comes.

That is one of the roles of Advent – to help us prepare our hearts for His coming – and this candle, this week, presents our choice to us in sharp relief: we have committed sin, and held on to evil, and wandered down paths of destruction; will we turn and repent in the grace He extends us, or will we choose the darkness over the light of life? Personally, my need for this preparation, this repentance, has shown its face in countless little ways: in my focus on my own interests over the needs of others or the responsibilities I have to my family, and in the sharp divisive wounding power of my words in my impatience or carelessness. His light, coming into the world, coming into my life, shows me the little acts of selfishness and callousness that I may have otherwise slipped past obliviously, and that is undeniably comfortable. But it provides me the opportunity for repentance and reconciliation, for praising His grace as I deepen my reliance upon it, for turning back to the light again, and those are equally undeniably good things.