A Magness New Year's Eve

It was a wonderful New Year's Eve.

Trevor received the board game Ticket to Ride, so we played it for the first time. It was fun and not hard to learn. Guess who won? :-)

Evan plots his next move.

I am so proud of these two, the amazing people they have become, and the things they are doing with their lives.

Blurry Evan and Mom.

We made black-eyed peas in our Cosori (think Instant Pot, but better).

After game and supper, we listened to the King's College Lessons and Carols broadcast since we didn't get to do it on Christmas Eve. Then we watched a little of NYE from Times Square, after which we went downstairs to the piano and gathered around to sing "Auld Lang Syne." There may have been a few tears.

We wrapped up the night by taking turns sharing our aspirations for 2018.

Today I leave to go back to St. Louis. It will be a cold, cold drive! I am excited to return to my work but sad to leave the family here. I know they will be making good use of the time, though, and I'll be back home Friday night.

In spite of a lot of sickness running through various members of the family at different times of this holiday season, it has been a blessed time of togetherness. I pray the remainder of your Christmas celebration is a continuing reminder of God's goodness to you and His promise, no matter what happens, of another year of grace.

Now greet the swiftly changing year
With joy and penitence sincere.
Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace
Another year of grace.

Remember now the Son of God
And how He shed His infant blood.
Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace
Another year of grace.

This Jesus came to end sin's war;
This Name of names for us He bore.
Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace
Another year of grace.

His love abundant far exceeds
The volume of a whole year's needs.
Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace
Another year of grace.

With Him as Lord to lead our way
In want and in prosperity,
What need we fear in earth or space
In this new year of grace!

"All glory be to God on high,
And peace on earth!" the angels cry.
Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace
Another year of grace.

God, Father, Son, and Spirit, hear!
To all our pleas incline Your ear;
Upon our lives rich blessing trace
In this new year of grace.

("Now Greet the Swiftly Changing Year" - LSB 896; translation by Jaroslav J. Vajda; to the tune "Sixth Night" by Alfred Fedak)

Happy New Year!

Have you made any New Year's resolutions?

I wasn't planning to, but something my husband said today has changed my mind. He was reading an old post here and noted that one of the things that he appreciates about my blog is the ability to look back and remember what we were doing in years past. The thing is, that is getting harder to do, as the frequency of my blogging has steadily declined over the last five years. I started this blog in mid-2007. In 2008, my first full year of blogging, I posted 431 times. That was by far my most prolific year. The years 2009, 2010, and 2011 each went down. 2012 went back up a little, but since then my posting has gone down every year. So far this year I have only posted 20 times.

I think there are probably several reasons I am posting less. One, when I first started blogging, I had many friends who were also blogging. I read their blogs, they read mine, and there was motivation in that. When fewer people are reading, there is less incentive to write.

Two, I started this blog as an outlet for my writing. Now that I have found some other ways to channel that passion, I feel less driven to do it here.

Three, some of the things I have historically blogged the most about, such as homeschooling and child-rearing, are becoming less of a factor in my life.

But I don't want this blog to die. I have no idea who is still out there reading, but I hope that some day when I am gone (a long time from now!) this will at least be a place my children and grandchildren can go to revisit stories of their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents. Maybe when I'm an old lady in the rest home it will be a place I can do the same.

And hey, I may not have as much to say about homeschooling and child-rearing as I used to, but I do still have thoughts, and maybe even a bit of wisdom to share.

So I'm going to try to blog more in 2018. How much is "more"? If you want to know the answer to that, you're going to have to keep reading. :-)

Things I Learned (or Relearned) in 2012

It is the time for taking stock, no? Here are some of my random thoughts about 2012--either things I learned or things I was freshly reminded of.

That thing you think is impossible? That you would never in a million years have believed could happen? It can happen.

If you think you can safely predict where you will be and what you will be doing at this time next year, think again.

The human capacity for self-deception and rationalization is truly unlimited. (I include myself in the category "human," by the way.)

The things that people say are often not the things they believe but rather the things they are trying to convince themselves to believe.

If someone is mean on the internet, he will be mean in person.

If someone is mean to others, he will be mean to you.

You find out who truly cares about you when you become less useful and more inconvenient.

Your gut instinct is more reliable than you know.

How people behave around children says a lot about their character.

The best way to salvage a relationship is in person, not writing.

Ninety-nine percent of internet debate is a waste of time.

I am happier when I don't watch, read or listen to the news.

You can't make someone care about you.

God takes care of His children. 

Blessed New Year!

I for one am ready for it. 2010 kicked my fanny. I need only look at my blog post counter to see how much. In 2007 I logged 178 posts. I started blogging in May of that year. In 2008 I was cooking: 435 posts! Hmmm, wonder what was going on that gave me so much to talk about . . . . In 2009 I slowed down a bit, posting 321 times. But in 2010 I crashed and burned: 173 posts, including this one. That's just a little over half of last year's output.

I'm hoping that in 2011 the pendulum will swing the other way, if only a bit. I have wanted to write more this year, but life has gotten in the way. When I have managed to write it has been mostly about my personal life because I have had a hard time thinking much beyond that. That's not a bad thing, since most of you are friends who for some reason actually seem to be interested (thank you for that). But I envisioned this blog as a place to write about a lot more than just my comings and goings and doings, and I hope next year to more often venture outside my own four walls, maybe take a stroll through town, hike over to the next town or those hills in the distance, and perhaps even climb one and see what's on the other side. I would be honored if you would join me.

New Year's Resolution

MOVE MORE.

That's it. Rather than make a long list of goals that past experience indicates I would quickly start neglecting, I'm keeping it simple this year. So I am not resolving to practice the piano more, or cook more from scratch, or read my Bible more, or floss daily, or be a better listener, or learn how to sew, or organize and print my digital photos, or spend more time planning my children's schoolwork, or stay on top of the filing, or study French more diligently, or lower my coffee consumption, or do any number of worthwhile things that would certainly enrich and improve my life.

If some of those things happen, I will pat myself on the back and enjoy the benefits. But knowing myself as well as I do, I know that if I start making a list I will continue adding to that list until it contains all the elements of "Cheryl's Perfect Life." And then it would be so daunting as to become a symbol of utter hopelessness and I would go down in defeat before I even got started. So this year, no list. Just one little goal.

MOVE MORE.

I have never been an athletic person. It's not that I'm uncoordinated. But I am also neither fast nor strong. I was one of those iconic "last to be picked for the team" kids. I have always much preferred to sit and think or sit and read or sit and play the piano or sit and do just about anything else than move and hurt and sweat. There have been times in my life when I've joined an exercise or aerobics class or even a health club. But invariably I did not see the thing through and the money that was laid down was ultimately for naught. I just don't like to exercise, and thanks to a good metabolism and small-framed, small-boned parents I have never really had to. I pretty much eat what I want, including indulging my highly developed sweet tooth, and still manage to maintain an appropriate weight. If I see the scale go up a few pounds, I slow down on my eating for a week or two until it comes back down.

Yet I know that I am not as healthy as I would like to be. I get winded too easily. I am tired a lot. I would like to have more body strength and stamina. And I am not getting any younger. As I look at my mother, who suffers from osteoporosis, I know that one of the best things I can do to combat the likelihood of following in her footsteps is to build up bone strength by exercising (and taking my calcium supplements). So when my husband recently proposed that we embark on a new effort to get a little more exercise in both of our routines, I didn't have to think twice. (He has always done a better job of exercising than me, especially in recent years. I am really proud of him for several years ago taking off and so far keeping off about 50 excess pounds!)

So the plan is to wake up in the morning, start the coffee dripping, and before doing anything else, simply MOVE. We aren't following any particular book or DVD or exercise plan or aiming for "X" number of sit-ups or push-ups or jumping jacks but instead are just starting the day by MOVING. We've successfully done so twice this week and have enjoyed the time together (talk about a fringe benefit!) and the accompanying feeling of increased energy and alertness. And who knows--if we succeed in this very small goal, maybe . . . but no, I think I'll stop while I'm ahead.