Christmas Miracles

I know the "Christmas miracle" is a Hollywood creation, and the true Christmas miracle was a virgin birth over 2000 years ago, but we have experienced several bits of extra good news this month. For those who may not have heard all of them, here goes.

1) We have a house! Feast your eyes. :-)

We have decided to rent for now. The pool of homes for sale that fit our needs, wants, and price range is pretty small right now. We narrowed down to a couple of options, looked at those, and decided we weren't up to the task of making them immediately inhabitable. So we turned to the rental market. That pool is also fairly small. We looked at two houses in Tulsa and two in Broken Arrow. Both houses in Tulsa could have worked for us. One was an older midtown home with a lot of character; the other was a newer home with a lot of square footage. Neither was ideal, though, and both would have meant a 20-25 minute drive to church. That is less than desirable for people whose lives revolve around church. So we turned to the Broken Arrow options. One of them had five bedrooms, which would have been great for bunking purposes when everyone is home, but it was lacking in living space and in need of much cleaning and repair. The property manager did not leave us feeling confident that either would be adequately done. So at 7:00 p.m. this past Friday night we nervously headed to the last house on the list.

Oh, my. It was lovely. A little smaller than we would like, but truly a beautiful home, built in 2000 and in mint condition. The current occupants are moving back to their home state of Texas and we enjoyed chatting with them as we looked at the house. We knew within a few minutes that this was the house for us. Not only is it in excellent condition, with the floor plan we need (a suitable bedroom and bath on the main floor for my mom), but it comes with all appliances in new or newer condition. (All of our appliances are remaining with our house in Illinois.) It even comes with patio furniture, flat screen TV in the master bedroom, and bar stools (I kid you not)! It is almost too good to be true. There is a nice-sized, fenced yard (which we need for the dog) and a pretty neighborhood park within walking distance. Church is 10-12 minutes away. Between the charming young couple (with adorable newborn and cute Yorkshire terrier) from Texas and the fact that the house just came up for rent this week and we were the first people to look at it, we are convinced this was a "God thing." I know--everything is a God thing. But this was really a GOD THING. We snatched up that house on the spot, and because we are renting, not buying, and we don't have to be at the closing on our own house, we will be able to move even sooner than we had originally thought (probably the first week of January). Oklahoma, here we come!

2) Caitlin has been accepted to her first choice of college, Truman State University in Kirksville, MO. They have offered her $10,000 up front with the possibility of more money later when the competitive scholarship review begins. Truman was recently ranked #12 on the Kiplinger list of best values in public colleges in the U.S.  Caitlin is very excited about the prospect of attending there, and they have been extremely attentive to her in the admissions process, calling on the phone (multiple times), sending handwritten notes, and now, processing her application and sending her initial offer with great speed. I think the odds are good we will be moving some boxes to Missouri in August of 2014 (sniff).

3) My mom recently took another fall, but after a four-night hospital stay and thorough once-over she is back home and doing fine. As best we can tell, she had a fainting spell due to a urinary tract infection. She got quite a bump on her head and a nasty tear on her hand, but we are thankful that nothing was broken. Considering what she has gone through the last week, she is in excellent spirits. Anyone reading who knows me well knows that the preceding sentence is something of a miracle. My mom was so sad for such a long time--I am still pinching myself at the change she has undergone since her surgery in September. I am having to relearn the way I interact with her. Protective walls don't come down overnight, but we are working on it and slowly remembering what it's like to be mother and daughter.

I am in Oklahoma right now but heading home tomorrow. Then it will be time to pick up Trevor and get ready for Christmas! Phillip will be home the week between Christmas and New Year's. We hope to move in early January. Maybe in 2014 you will see me writing less about our day-to-day struggles and more about ideas. I do still have them, sometimes.

Blessed Gaudete Sunday!

Telling the Next Generation

Shared by a friend.


 For those reading who may not know, the video to which this adorable young man is listening is of my husband leading the Advent hymn "Prepare the Royal Highway" at a former congregation a few years back. The video is precious to me not only for the music and my husband's presence in it but also because it hearkens back to a time when we were all in church together during Advent. In the video my daughter is acolyting and my older son is helping my younger son sing from the hymnal. I also enjoy seeing the faces of some dear friends that we don't get to see anymore. I am so glad I took this video that Wednesday evening three years ago. What a gift it continues to be to me and to so many others.



Prepare the Royal Highway - Lutheran Service Book 343 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Rejoice, rejoice . . . Who?

I ran across this fun article linking Christmas carols and grammar. It got me to thinking about one of my pet peeves: the way the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is typically sung. The refrain of that hymn is as follows:

"Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel!"

Most people understandably tend to breathe after the word "Emmanuel." It's the end of a line, right? And in most musical settings the last syllable of the word occurs on a longer, held note. It's a natural place to breathe. The problem is that when one breathes there, the sense of the line is confused and it sounds like we are telling Emmanuel to rejoice instead of telling Israel to rejoice because Emmanuel is coming.

For this reason, I prefer the musical setting of this hymn in which the "-el" of "Emmanuel" is given only an eighth note and is followed by a series of eighth notes that carry through to the final syllable of the final word. Keeping the rhythm moving more effectively preserves the meaning of the line. Then a quick breath can be taken at the comma after the word "thee." A skillful lead musician will make sure the accompaniment supports this approach, allowing time for the singers to breathe at the comma.

The likelihood, though, is that this Advent you and I will sing the setting of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" that has a long note at the end of the first line. In that case, I encourage you to do what I do. Take a nice, deep breath after the second "Rejoice" and try to sing all the way to "thee" on that one breath. After "thee" take a quick catch breath to finish the refrain. You may be the only one holding out that "el" but you can pat yourself on the back for doing your part to preserve the poetry of the hymn. And who knows, maybe you will start a new trend!

Still Waiting

I woke up thinking about this post from a few months ago. I guess I am already in the Advent spirit, since it seems we are still waiting! We are no longer waiting on my mom's surgery and recovery, thanks be to God. Her surgery was successful and her recovery is well under way. We are, however, still waiting for a closing and a move, and the reuniting of our family. 

I have thought for a long time now that I need to somehow come to terms with the waiting game. I guess our whole lives are to some extent one big long wait. We wait for birthdays and holidays, for weddings and births, for graduations and job offers, for college acceptance letters and ACT scores, for paychecks (especially if you're a self-employed musician ;-)) and home sales, for diagnoses and cures. Sometimes we end up waiting for a very long time, as the job goes to someone else, the home doesn't sell, the apology doesn't come, forgiveness is not offered, or we are told there is no cure. I am not sure, though, how to be at peace with that sort of waiting. I can't seem to do it. I wait and worry and obsess and cry and ask, "How long, Lord? How long?"

But in Advent I am reminded that while this world is one big wait, the kingdom of God is not. While we wait for the kingdom of God in its fullness on the last day, we as redeemed children of God live in that kingdom right now, today, enjoying all of its goodness and blessing. In the bulletin at church yesterday there was a reminder of the threefold meaning of Advent:

Christ came to redeem us.

Christ still comes to deliver His salvation.

Christ will come again to take us home.

As we go through our days of waiting for earthly answers, we can know that Christ has come, is coming to us now, and will come to us for eternity on that final, glorious day. Isn't it just like Jesus to not make us wait for him as we wait for all the other things of life, but to come to us today, offering himself freely to undeserving sinners like us? I guess with Jesus at my side I can wait a little longer for the rest of it. :-)

The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

Word Fun

So, if you're on Facebook you may have bumped into the latest viral rage. It's called "What Would I Say"  and is a Facebook app that generates automated posts by searching your Facebook account and randomly putting your words and phrases together in new combinations. The results are hilarious. Here are some of the statuses my "CherylBot" came up with yesterday. If you're not on Facebook, this will give you an idea of what I tend to share there, albeit a twisted one.

You know those onesided conversations can sell the house.

I was walking down time before the piano students come.

Packed morning and afternoon with a 9-year-old who has Obama totally unresponsive. I called the doctor.

It has become politically correct, including the hymn festival at our hotel this morning.

Caitlin, who usually takes the magazine rack at Walmart at the conclusion of the scars they left behind me. 

God always behaves like us if we go to see him with accumulated AA credit card.

I have pretty hair tips.

I have subscribed to the vanity front. But never around Washington, D.C.

Carole, I am being reunited. That's a pain!

Pamela, that is Biblically inaccurate.

Wonder why Jesus doesn't seem to have been terrorized.

Survived junior high. Evan is not eating Halloween for years.

I understand the concept of those who would see fewer names than washing them. Just so everyone knows, though, I'd like to live in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him in the oven before preheating it to the pool!

Default. Failure to go to bed, oversize shower, sitting by 7:00 a.m.!

Behold, his crate last night was our first night without crying!

Phillip will bow down toward your holy temple in its totality. Isn't an option.

I have rolled back in, the chili is bubbling in his crate for his plane tickets last night and he will both lie down and Animal Farm will wait a few days of his typically petulant, petty, rude and interrupting a piano competition playing the problem that is in my absence. Everything looks on the tower, and out of time to be at feet. Late service. Ahhhhhh.

Sleep well, Homeland Security! Goodnight, NSA, FBI, EPA and that is nuts, Paul.

And now you know me better.

Readaloud Dilemma

We finished The Adventures of Tom Sawyer today. Yes, it took us a while. We savor our books. :-)

Here are a couple of pictures I took of Evan and Willard while I was reading. (Notice who is on the blanket. Willard loves readaloud time.) The second picture captures the moment they turned to look at me after I took the first one.

Back to our readaloud. Today Tom and Huck found the robbers' hideout, along with their supplies, and--let us not forget!--the treasure. This discovery led to a discussion of robbers and their practices, as Tom and Huck made plans to inaugurate their own prepubescent gang of criminals. (For those who have never "met" Tom Sawyer, it is probably good to interject here that Tom's boyish imagination knows no bounds.) The conversation covered the important points of killing all the men but being gracious toward the women--so that they will fall in love with you, of course--and then wrapped up thus:

"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck.

"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies."

At this point Evan broke out into loud, sustained laughter punctuated by repetitions of the sentences "We'll hold our orgies there!" and "It's an awful snug place for orgies!" Finally the guffaws subsided and he turned to me and asked, "What's an orgy?" I continued reading.

"What's orgies?" [said Huck].

"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we get to the skiff."

Such is the adventure of reading aloud. Sometimes you stumble on things you're not quite expecting (even if you've read the book before)! I told Evan that an orgy was kind of like a party--but a party where people get carried away and eat and drink too much, so not a very nice party. The problem with this definition (which is not incorrect) is that it excludes the more common modern usage of the term, the one everyone thinks of when he hears the word. But I don't want to tell my child that meaning yet! Which, of course, opens up the possibility that he'll decide to show off his new word at a less-than-opportune time. Oh, Tom, dear Tom--you just love complicating things, don't you?

Cooking with Evan

My posts of late have mostly been of the "daily life" variety. I'm not sure if that is due to my dwindling ability to write more complex, thoughtful pieces or to the fact that our family continues to live in three separate states and my priority right now is to document what is going on in Illinois for those who are not here. It is probably both. At any rate, here is yet another "what we've been doing" post. A few days ago Evan decided he wanted to do some cooking. I provided him with a few recipe books and he chose for his project "Company Beef Casserole." We had fun whipping this up last night!

Layering in the ingredients.

The best part of cooking is tasting!

Ready for the oven.

Milk for Evan, wine for Mom. :-)

Learning from the Master

"Where do you want to go for supper tonight, Evan?"

"Wherever you want, sweetie!"

Summer of 2012

If Only

"Mom, did you have amnesia again last night?"

"No, honey, but maybe if I had I would have gotten a little sleep!"

(Note: This exchange occurred yesterday. I slept better last night, thanks be to God!)

Science Fail

Evan and I had chemistry class today. Chemistry class right now consists of his Magic School Bus Chemistry Kit.

Today we did card #29, a demonstration of the bonding behavior of water molecules. In this lab activity, the young scientist counts the number of drops of water he can place on top of a penny before the water spills over the side. He then repeats the process, but first he puts a drop of liquid dish soap on the penny. I sat beside Evan as he followed the instructions, and I saw nothing amiss in the execution. On the first penny he counted 13 drops of water. On the second penny (the one with the liquid soap) he counted 21. Why the difference? We turned over the instruction card and read this explanation:

A penny can hold many drops of water because the water molecules like each other and form special bonds between each other. On the surface of the water, the molecules are held together by this surface tension. When too many drops are added, the surface tension is broken and the water spills over. Fewer drops can be put on the penny with the soap because soap decreases the surface tension and the water spills much sooner. [emphasis added]

Yeah . . . right . . . .

I really don't know how we manage to do this. But over and over again, our science experiments turn out with something far afield of the expected result. Just one of our many family talents, I guess.

A Capital Idea

Tonight at supper it was noted that the dog has been getting lots more treats these days. Since my mom got home from rehab, she has been freely dispensing dog biscuits to our mutt Willard. This is new for her, as are many behaviors since she got home. (That is a blog post in itself, a wonderful one, I might add. I will have to write it sometime.)

Anyway, regarding the problem of Willard's overindulgence, I opined, "We might just have to hide the dog treats from Grandma."

Evan's reply? "Or we could just reason with her."

That child is going to go far in life.

The well-fed subject of this post.

God's Own Child

Monday night I went to sleep planning out this blog post. But Tuesday, life intervened, so this is a day late. Eighteen years ago yesterday my baby girl was brought into the priesthood of all believers. Love came down and claimed Caitlin as His own as she was baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I give thanks that He continues to sustain and nurture her in the faith, a faith which is apparent in the things she says and does. I look at her and see a young woman who confesses the name of her Saviour with no hesitation and who does not shrink from speaking the truth but who manages, better than many more "mature" Christians, to always speak it in love. I so admire that about her.

November 12, 1995, was a cold, cold day in Peoria. It wasn't like today in Chicago, where it is cold but clear and sunny. Instead it was overcast and icy. I remember being worried about my mother and my in-laws as they made their way down the sidewalk to church. Once we were inside the building, though, all thoughts of the cold disappeared as we welcomed Caitlin Marie into the Lord's family. 

When he saw this picture Evan said, "Mom, you look young!" To which I said, "Evan, I was young!"

Trevor, Phillip, baby Caitlin and I along with our dear, sainted Pastor Freudenburg and his wife Jo.

 

Godparents.

I am really sorry I forgot to do this blog post yesterday. Earlier in the month I acknowledged Trevor's baptism on Facebook, and then last week I did a special post for Evan. When it hit me a little while ago that I had let Caitlin's day go by, I was disgusted with myself. Sometimes it stinks to be the middle child! Trevor is the firstborn, the oldest, the one away at college. Evan is the baby. Sometimes it seems as though Caitlin can get lost in the expanse between her brothers. But about yesterday's oversight my unassuming daughter was predictably understanding. That is another thing I admire about her. She expects so very little, accepting whatever comes with sincere appreciation.

By the way, that bit of life that intervened yesterday? It was called "selling the house." For those who may not know, our previous contract fell through. It looks, however, as though we now have another one. Having been burned once, I am not going to celebrate quite so boisterously this time around, but if all goes well we will be closing sometime after Christmas.

Male and Female He Created Them

Scene: In the kitchen, before bed. A mother is dispensing a Benadryl capsule to her allergy-ridden 10-year-old son. Son speaks first.

"When I'm 12, I'll take it without water. Or maybe when I'm 15."

"But honey, you don't have to take it without water. I don't take pills without water."

"But Dad does. He can swallow a whole handful of pills without water."

"Well, I don't do that."

"I guess there are just some things men do better than women."

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

What do you do when you don't think you can stand one more Power Rangers episode?

Give him his first Archie comic book.

Yep, We're a Classical School

Logic 101

"Evan, time for your shower!"

"But I've already had ice cream!"

Ten Years Ago Today

Happy baptism birthday to my sweet baby boy!

No Wonder They Gave Him a Music Scholarship

I love how these pieces demonstrate the full range of Trevor's musicianship. From the subtlety and lyricism of the first set of pieces to the technical and tonal demands of Beethoven to the sheer physicality and rhythmic brilliance of Ginastera, these performances showcase a young musician who is going places. I'm so glad I get to follow along as his number one adoring fan. Keep up the wonderful work, Trevor. You have come so far the last few years; how exciting to think of all the places you have yet to go!


 
Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 1 from Cheryl on Vimeo.



Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 2 from Cheryl on Vimeo.



Trevor Magness, Junior Recital, Part 3 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Reading this book with Evan has been an interesting experience. He can't figure out the main character. He disapproves of Tom's fighting, his naughtiness and his lying. And who in his right mind would elect to run away from a very nice home to spend several days and nights roughing it on an island, all the while letting the folks back home think he was dead?

Last night we read Chapter 25, which begins thus;

"There comes a time in every rightly constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure."

Evan's response?

"Not me!"

The one aspect of the book that he doesn't seem to have much trouble identifying with is Tom's affection for Becky Thatcher. It would seem I'm rearing a lover, not a fighter. I'm okay with that.

A Most Excellent Tenth Birthday

Pictures especially for Dad and Trevor, who couldn't be here.

Mario game from Dad

His own personalized copy of LSB from Mom & Dad

Charlie Brown & Snoopy Show DVD from Trevor

Willard & bows

Mario pajama pants from Mom.

Stuffed Snoopy from Willard

A watch from Grandma

Garfield book from Caitlin (she also got him a Magic School Bus book)

Big sis hugs. 

Money from an auntie! (Total haul from the aunts: $85.)

Snoopy

Happy birthday, Evan!

Goodbye, Single Digits

My youngest will be 10 tomorrow. To honor the occasion, a few final 9-year-old stories.

This morning upon waking he immediately said, "Well?" "Well, what?" said I. "You know what." I didn't, but a few seconds later I did. Moms are like that. "Happy Birthday Eve, Evan!" (What? You mean you don't celebrate the eves of birthdays? What planet are you on?)

Later in the morning he declared, "My passion for video games grows ever larger." Yeah, I've noticed. He then went on to tell me that some day he would like to have a job with Sony or Nintendo but not with Microsoft because they publish too many adult-rated games. "I only want to design E-rated [everyone] or T-rated [teen] games." That's my boy.

And on the topic of video games, it was a rather difficult night for the almost-ten-year-old. A downloadable program that he has been enjoying has ceased working properly. It is a program that allows the user to design his own Zelda game adventure. Evan has not been able to use the program for a while because of the malfunction, so his dad suggested just getting a fresh download. Unfortunately, the site where we previously got this program is now identified by our virus software as unsafe. Caitlin said she would see if she could find the program on a different website, and I went upstairs. A little while later, a very sad 9-year-old showed up in my bedroom, eyes red from crying.

"I did a very brave thing, Mom."

"What, Evan? What happened?"

"I deleted Zelda Classic and all my files."

"Oh, Evan, why?"

He explained to me that the program was no longer available, which meant that he would no longer be able to use the files he had created (a lot of files), so he didn't see a reason to keep them. I told him how sorry I was but also how proud I was and how what he experienced tonight is something we all experience throughout our lives: realizing when it is time to let go of one thing and move on to the next. I promised him that soon, very soon, something else would come along that would inspire him more than Zelda Classic ever did.

After he got ready for bed he informed me that he wanted to skip reading tonight except for the Bible. He wanted me to get to bed early so I could be rested for his birthday. "I'm going to miss my 9-year-old self."

I am too, Evan.

This is blessing.

To have a realtor who, when you share some of your misgivings about the sale of your home ("What if something goes wrong?") responds as follows:

"And above all, your life and this deal are in the Lord's hands. So rejoice and have faith in the wonderful plans He has for you and your family! Living in faith is always exciting!"

Thank you, friend.

I love this kid.

"Evan, what are you doing?"

"I don't know what I'm doing."

--a few seconds later--

"Look, I did what I didn't know I was doing!"

News

We have a contract on our house! Closing is set for the first week of December. We will be having Christmas in Oklahoma. :-)

What does this mean? We are in for quite the month. Next weekend we will be going to Nebraska for Trevor's junior recital. Not long after that I will go to Oklahoma to join Phillip in looking for a house there. Come the end of the month, we will celebrate our last Illinois Thanksgiving. A few days later, we'll load up the wagons and head out.

I am not ready. I mean, I'm ready. I'm ready! (But I am so not ready.)

Sometimes I Forget

But then I am reminded. I have a Highly Sensitive Child.

I have gotten lots of reminders the last few days. Maybe it's because with Halloween coming, he's on high alert. If you've been reading for a while you know I am not a big fan of Halloween. I don't have a philosophical objection to it; it just annoys me. Evan, however, detests it. Not only does he detest it, but he is terrified by it. This is highly poetic since he was born on October 29 and came home from the hospital on October 31, resulting in my putting a sign on the front door that we had a new baby and would not be handing out candy that year. 

Anyway, a few weeks ago he informed me that he would not be going to the store with me anymore until Halloween is over. A few days ago, though, we made a quick stop at Jewel and all went in. As soon as we entered he remembered the season and held back, but I told him that we would avoid the offending aisles. Of course, the Halloween trappings are ubiquitous this time of year, and as we rounded a corner suddenly there was a life-size zombie suspended in the air above us. Great. Panic ensued and it was all we could do to get out of the store without tears. I am proud of him, though. He didn't melt down but kept his composure even though I, as his mom, well knew his internal distress.

The reminders don't end there. Yesterday for history we read about Nicholas Copernicus. When Evan learned that Copernicus died shortly after the first copy of On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres was placed in his hands, he started to cry. Last night as we watched The Wonder Years he ran from the room during a scene in which Kevin, the main character, has a nightmare involving a portly friend of his disappearing into a sinkhole of candy. He was seriously upset and it took a lot of convincing to get him to finish the episode with us. Last night he had one of his periodic crying spells about the death of our dog, Shiloh, last year. And yesterday I was also reminded, as Evan's teacher, of the difficulty he has blocking out other stimuli so that we can do something academic in nature. Sometimes it seems I have to ask, "Are you listening, Evan?" every other sentence. And then there's the other end of the emotional spectrum. This kid never merely giggles. Every slightly humorous thing is ROFLOL funny. 

I'm not sure why the HSC signs have been coming so fast and furious of late. Yes, there has been a lot going in our life, but that is nothing new. This family has been on an emotional tightrope for years now. Maybe it's because Dad just left again. Whatever the reason, I don't see it as a problem. I love my HSC. I love that he weeps for 500-year-old scientists and that he can't abide a plastic knive dripping with fake blood. Some might think he needs to be told to grow up and be a man and stop feeling everything so deeply. I say call me in ten years and I'll show you a man whose heart hasn't been hardened by being told it isn't supposed to feel. 

"You, My People, Shall Be Holy"

Hymn written by Rev. Steven Starke in honor of Rev. Dr. John W. Kleinig

Tune, BAROSSA, composed by Phillip Magness

Premiered at the Festschrift Service hosted by Doxology for Rev. Kleinig at the Chiara Center in Springfield, Illinois, October 4, 2013

Stanza one was sung by Rev. Paul Becker.

That is your humble blogger helping lead the ladies on stanza six. (Sigh--I briefly stumbled over the words. What can I blame? Nerves? Aging? Emotion? Needing a new pair of glasses? All of the above?)

What a privilege and honor it was to simply be there, not to mention helping out musically with the first congregational singing of this beautiful hymn. If you are interested, the text and music are available via download from Liturgy Solutions.

Anticipation

For years when I heard this song I only thought about catsup. The other day I heard it on the radio for the first time in a long time, and I think I finally truly heard it. Maybe you have to be looking at your 50th birthday (still about nine months away, mind you!) to get it. It seems for so many years I have been waiting--for something to be over, for something else to happen, for an end to one trial or the beginning of something better. I know that in all that waiting for Something Else I have sometimes--often--neglected to embrace the moment. I don't know how to change that behavior. In so many ways I am still waiting. But listening to this song is a needed reminder that "these are the good old days."

  

We can never know about the days to come 

But we think about them anyway 

And I wonder if I'm really with you now 

Or just chasing after some finer day. 

Anticipation, anticipation 

Is making me late

Is keeping me waiting.

And I tell you how easy it is to be with you 

And how right your arms feel around me. 

But I rehearsed those words just late last night 

When I was thinking about how right tonight might be. 

Anticipation, anticipation 

Is making me late 

Is keeping me waiting.

And tomorrow we might not be together 

I'm no prophet, I don't know nature's way 

So I'll try to see into your eyes right now 

And stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days. 

It has been too long . . .

. . . since this happened.



"Come, Let Us Sing" from Cheryl on Vimeo.

That is Evan, my youngest, fifth from left. It has been about 17 months since he has sung in his dad's choir. (Our last church, Trinity, didn't have an after school children's choir.) I am thankful he was able to sing in a community children's chorus last year. He had wonderful teaching there, and it shows. I can't believe how much he has grown in maturity and focus!

This was worth driving to Oklahoma for. Unfortunately, I don't think we can drive back in three weeks when the Schola Cantorum sings again. Sigh.

Note: I don't think the applause is typical. I just think people were sincerely appreciative and reacted in kind, rather spontaneously. A parish children's choir is a new thing for Immanuel. :-)

Thank you, Pastor Seter

On occasion my husband has been accused, by those who either don't understand him or who want to hurt him, of being motivated only by ego and self-interest in the work he does for the church. That's why something like this means so very much to me.

"Partnerships: Making Music Together"

Knowing Our Place

On Thursday and Friday of last week I was privileged to listen to over six hours of teaching by Rev. Dr. John W. Kleinig. Here's a link if you aren't familiar with him. The conference that I attended was sponsored by Doxology, a program of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod that provides retreats and instruction for both pastors and lay people. My husband was the conference musician, so the icing on the cake was spending a few days with him! (We are still living in separate states.) On a side note, the conference was capped by a celebration of Dr. Kleinig's ministry that included the presentation of a Festschrift in his honor. The Festschrift is entitled You, My People, Shall Be Holy and includes a hymn by the same name for which Phillip wrote the music and his friend Pastor Steven Starke wrote the words.

I wish I could summarize the entire two days for you in some kind of organized fashion. I can't. The theme of the conference was "Holding the Mystery of Faith with a Clear Conscience" and everything began and ended on that topic. But along the way there were a few points that especially stood out for me. One concerned the doctrine of vocation. As I write this, it seems like such a no-brainer. And yet it isn't, because it is one of the things that we human beings mess up over and over again. So many of our problems come when we ignore or try to go beyond the station or vocation to which God has called us. Think about it. When--

children try to act like grown-ups,
parents act like they don't have children,
unmarried people act like they're married,
married people act like they're single,
lay people act like pastors,
pastors act like politicians or CEO's,
a government ignores its Constitution,
someone without a medical license practices medicine,
someone under the influence of alcohol gets behind the wheel,
someone who hasn't read the instructions tries to use a power saw,
a weak person lifts something that is too heavy for him,
a poor person acts like he's rich,
a computer illiterate tries to repair his laptop,
a musician or athlete attempts a feat that is woefully beyond his capability, or
Adam decides he is as smart as God,

trouble happens. So much trouble. How much better things would go for us stupid humans if we would only accept and stay in our place. And not merely stay in it, but rejoice in it, because it is the work to which we have been called, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Eph. 2:10).

Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him. This is my rule in all the churches. Was anyone at the time of his call already circumcised? Let him not seek to remove the marks of circumcision. Was anyone at the time of his call uncircumcised? Let him not seek circumcision. For neither circumcision counts for anything nor uncircumcision, but keeping the commandments of God. Each one should remain in the condition in which he was called. Were you a bondservant when called? Do not be concerned about it. (But if you can gain your freedom, avail yourself of the opportunity.) For he who was called in the Lord as a bondservant is a freedman of the Lord. Likewise he who was free when called is a bondservant of Christ. You were bought with a price; do not become bondservants of men. So, brothers, in whatever condition each was called, there let him remain with God. ( 1 Cor. 7:17-23)

History Repeating Itself?

A few days ago at supper Caitlin and I were talking about Obamacare, the government spending battle, and the looming government shutdown. A little while into the conversation Evan asked, "Is that kind of like the Stamp Act?" He ran to get the the book about Benjamin Franklin that he has lately been reading and turned to the middle of the book:

Most Americans did not want to pay the new taxes. They wrote angry letters to the English government.

I told him that yes, it appeared there were some similarities. A king, or in our case a President, imposes an unpopular measure on the populace, resulting in great unrest and resistance. But further reading revealed that the similarities extend only so far:

Franklin agreed with the letters. He felt Americans should be free to make their own taxes. He worked hard against the Stamp Act.

The English decided they would have to listen to the Americans. They called a meeting. And they asked Benjamin Franklin to tell the American side of the story.

Franklin told the English that the Americans would never pay the new tax. He told them that the Americans would fight before they would pay it.

The English believed him. A few days later the government stopped the hated Stamp Act.

When the news got to America, there was great excitement. People cheered. Church bells rang out. Everyone knew what Franklin had done. He was a hero.

If only. 

This Is Getting Hard

Our house has been on the market about two months now. (Phillip has been gone about three months, as it took us a while to get the house ready to list.) We have had many showings but no offers. There has been very little in the way of negative feedback. I know that all we need is for the right person to see it, and that could happen any day--maybe today! Two months is really not that long. But a little voice inside me has started asking, "What if?" When we first put the house on the market I didn't look much past Christmas. And my vision of Christmas was that by that time surely we would have sold the house. I pictured us spending Christmas together in a new house in Oklahoma. But now that little "what if" voice has made itself known, and lately it has been getting louder. What if we don't sell any time soon? What if fall drags into winter, and winter drags into spring, and we're still here, waiting?

It's not just the living apart from my husband that makes this hard, although that's the biggest part of it. It's the realization that this is Caitlin's last year at home before college, and she could end up spending it without her father as a daily presence in her life (and vice versa). It's the realization that Evan has already missed out on one year of singing in his dad's children's choir, and now he is working on year two. It's the realization that we gave up a lot of things on the assumption that we would not be here to participate in them. The feeling of loss regarding those things will be even greater if it turns out we could have kept them in our lives one more year.

And yet as I write this, I feel like a big baby. I know of women who have had to spend much more time living apart from their husbands than I have. I know of women who are permanently without their husbands, rearing children on their own. Who am I to complain? The children and I have the familiarity of our home, our well-traveled paths, and each other. I have more free time than I've had in years! Meanwhile, Phillip is all alone, trying to learn a new job while not having a place he can really call home (he is boarding in a parishioner's house). He has the much harder "row to hoe." And yet he doesn't complain, but spends his time on the phone trying to build me up after working 16-hour days. He puts me to shame.

Once upon a time there was a church I loved too much. It's not my church anymore. There were some friends I needed too much. They're not in my life anymore. I have been told that I love my husband too much. He lives in another state now. Maybe if I loved this house more it would finally sell. . . .

Words to Live By

"You know what they say. Giant worms can do whatever they want."
Phineas Flynn

Mom Fail, Defined

Noun, compound. When your 9-year-old who is a good reader but who hasn't embraced reading to the degree his older brother and sister did at this age suddenly decides at 9:00 at night that he wants to start reading The Silver Chair but when you go to the shelf to take it down you realize it's not there because you already packed it (because the realtor said you have too many books) and now it's in a box somewhere in the Portable On Demand Storage (PODS) unit sitting in your driveway and you really don't want to go out and look for it in your pajamas in the dark.

It's in there . . . somewhere . . . (probably right next to the microscope).

UPDATE: Narnia has been found. The microscope is still AWOL. 

Luther and the Two Aunties

Today in Evan's history book we read about Martin Luther. It was overall a very good treatment. To teach Luther's understanding of Law and Gospel the author contrasts two aunts. Aunt #1 is described as having a perfect, orderly home. When you visit that aunt's home, she first checks you all over to make sure you're clean enough to enter. Then she invites you in and offers you hot chocolate, but it is hard to enjoy her company because you are so worried about spilling the hot chocolate on her white velvet sofa. Aunt #2, on the other hand, also has a beautiful home, but she makes it clear that her love for you goes far beyond her interest in having a clean house. In spite of the fact that you are covered in mud and she is wearing a white apron, she hugs you big and hard. When you spill your hot chocolate on her table, she wipes it up. The passage concludes by asking, "Which aunt would you rather visit?"

Of course Evan answered, "Aunt #2." But before we moved on from the story of the two aunts, a little editorializing was in order. I asked him, since Aunt #2 is so loving and forgiving, whether it would be okay to go tramping around her house in muddy feet, being sloppy with the hot chocolate, and generally not caring about trying to keep her house clean. He said no, and we talked about how Aunt #2's generosity and forbearance would result in our wanting to behave well in her house due to our love for and sincere desire to please her. He agreed, then replied, "Yeah, but if I went to Aunt #1's house I would like to throw a big ball of mud at her!"

I think he gets it.

Yesterday Once More

A few years ago I received a friend request on Facebook. At first I didn't recognize the person but soon realized she was someone I had attended junior high school with. I also remembered that for a time in junior high she tormented me pretty heartlessly. We moved to the town in question when I was in sixth grade and left when I was in eighth grade, so I was not there for long. I did make some good friends during that time. But for some reason I was selected by others as an easy target, and quite a few of the girls made it their business to let me know I did not belong. It was rough.

When I got this woman's friend request I thought about just ignoring it. But then I thought, maybe she wants to make amends. Maybe she is sorry. So I accepted the friend request. Over the last couple of years we have had almost nothing to do with each other on Facebook. Instead I have watched as this poor woman has endured a pain I can't begin to imagine: the suicide of her adult son. Through that ordeal and its aftermath I have seen her cling to Christ as her only means of survival.

A few days ago I received a private message from this woman. She said she was going through her friend list and asked me how we knew each other. I wrote back and said we went to school together in junior high school but then I moved away. A little part of me wanted to say, "How can you not remember me? You made fun of me for several years!" But of course I didn't. I told her that I understood the desire to trim one's number of friends and I would completely understand if she wanted to trim me. She wrote back and said no, that wasn't her goal--she just wanted to place who I was and now she remembered friending me at the suggestion of another mutual friend.

I don't harbor anger for this woman. It was so long ago, and she was just a little girl (a scary, mean one, but a little girl nonetheless). I'm not really sure why I'm sharing this story. Perhaps it is simply an example of how long we tend to carry hurts around with us. I remember this woman calling me "Bleached Legs" like it was yesterday. It took me years, well into adulthood, to get to where I could wear shorts or skirts without stockings and not feel self-conscious about my white skin. But she doesn't even remember. It's stupid, isn't it, how we let those who have hurt us in the past continue to hurt us in the present when they have long ago forgotten and moved on?

Best Laid Plans

Nothing went as it was supposed to this weekend. As each carefully laid plan fell apart, I felt extremely frustrated. But in retrospect I see how, once again, God worked it out for the best.

I had intended to go to St. Louis on Friday. Phillip was there for synodical board business as well as for the installation of Rev. Matt Harrison to his second term as our synodical president. It was going to be great to see my husband and attend the festivities! But Thursday night I got a call from the skilled nursing facility where my mom is receiving rehabilitation for her hip. Because of low hemoglobin that had not improved with treatment, they had decided to send her to the hospital Friday for a blood transfusion. I reluctantly cancelled my trip so as to be close by for that procedure.

The nurse had told me Thursday night that I would be informed when my mom was scheduled for her transfusion. As of 11:00 a.m. Friday there was no call so I left to run a few errands. At about 12:00 my daughter called me on the cell phone: "Mom, we are having a showing at 1:00!" Of course, the house wasn't ready. I raced home and we spent a frantic half hour putting things in order, then left to grab lunch and go to the park.

While we were out I called the rehab center, only to discover that my mom had already returned from the hospital. (Um, what about that phone call I was supposed to receive?) Not only that, when she arrived at the hospital, the lab work showed that her hemoglobin had risen sufficiently that she no longer needed the transfusion. Really? I could have gone on my trip after all? I suppose at this point I could have high-tailed it for St. Louis. But I wasn't packed. Not only that, when we returned home after our picnic lunch it was obvious no one had come to see the house. I called our agent, who called the other party's agent, only to discover they were running about an hour late. We got back in the car and left again, heading to a different park this time. We didn't get home again until after 3:00. It would have been after 4:00 by the time I could have left. I was tired and didn't see the point of driving all that way for such a short visit.

But someone else did see the point. Shortly after arriving home the second time, we got a call from Phillip. "Guess where I am?" he teased. The right answer turned out to be heading north on I-55! He got home about 7:30, having skipped out on the Friday night and Saturday morning installation festivities so that he could drive an additional eight hours to spend one night at home. What a guy. We waved him away at noon Saturday so that he could get back to Oklahoma in time to play for church Sunday morning.

So what was supposed to happen this weekend? Mom was supposed to get a blood transfusion but didn't. That is good! I was supposed to go to St. Louis but didn't. That is good, too! It not only enabled me to be here for the showing, but it led to Phillip's deciding to come home, which meant that not only did I get to see him, but so did the children.

And hey, even the showing that ran late by an hour was a good thing. If not for that, we wouldn't have made a second trip to the park, which means we wouldn't have met some really cool ducks.

Ducks from Cheryl on Vimeo.

One Thing Leads to Another

Road trip!

Ever since it became clear that we are moving to Oklahoma, I have been trying to do things that will be geographically harder to do once we leave this area. At the top of that list is a visit to one of my best friends in the world. She lives with her family in eastern Iowa, only a few hours from here. The schedule finally cleared enough to allow us to plan a get-together. So next week Caitlin, Evan and are looking forward to spending some time with our friends on their farm, enjoying fun and fellowship.

Then, as I was talking to my husband, he pointed out that it would not be too far out of our way to swing by one of the colleges Caitlin is interested in looking at: Truman State University in Kirksville, Missouri. So we decided to add a night to our trip and schedule a campus tour. Then upon studying the map, I discovered that our drive home would take us right through Hannibal, Missouri! Why does that excite us? Have you ever read Huckleberry Finn? If you haven't, you should! Hannibal is the childhood home of author Mark Twain and the model for the town of St. Petersburg in that book and its precursor Tom Sawyer. The town boasts a Mark Twain museum, a Mark Twain cave with live storyteller, and a riverboat ride, among other attractions.

So, a move leads to a visit with a friend, which leads to a campus tour, which leads to a family field trip, which of course can only mean one thing: it's time to read as much of Tom Sawyer to Evan as I can before Thursday of next week! That's how we roll in the Philipp Nicolai Lutheran Academy!

A Spoonful of the Bard

Caitlin and I have been watching the 2009 BBC production of Hamlet. (Because we have a difficult time finding an uninterrupted 3-hour window, we are watching it in three one-hour installments.) Our watching of this version of the play follows our reading of it and our watching of the Franco Zeffirelli/Mel Gibson version.  It is interesting to compare/contrast the different presentations, and of course, each subsequent experience with the play results in increased understanding.

Last night while we were watching, Evan remained in the room. This may not seem significant, but it is. My "highly sensitive child" is extremely wary of anything on the screen to which he does not have previous exposure. He generally self-excludes when the big people decide to watch a movie. But last night he stayed. He wasn't watching, really--just doing his own thing at the computer. I did see him turn around a few times to see what was happening.

Tonight at supper I told him we would be watching another installment and said, "You didn't mind it last night, did you?" He replied, "Well, I was a little disturbed by the violence and the cursing. But it didn't bother me too much."

Tonight he watched almost the entire hour with us. I think he's in for the balance tomorrow night, violence and cursing notwithstanding. Everything is just easier to take in Elizabethan English, isn't it?

Mom

Just popping in to share with those who might not otherwise hear that my mom is out of surgery (hip replacement) and in recovery. Everything went well, and I hope to see her soon. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Installation Sermon

Phillip's installation at Immanuel-Broken Arrow was on August 18. Here is a link to Pastor Wilke's excellent installation sermon. It was, of course, particularly meaningful to us on that day, but I commend it to all my Lutheran readers, particularly those with a special interest in music, liturgy, and the song of the Church.

http://www.immanuelba.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/sermonaug1813installationservice.mp3

School Plans

For those who are interested, here's our outlook for the year.

Caitlin is a senior. Her priority at the moment is college prep and planning. She is starting to fill out applications, which means writing essays. That takes care of English class! Having completed Algebra I & II and geometry, she will not be taking any higher math, but she is continuing to drill for the SAT as well as a second go at the ACT. For science she has decided on Apologia's Advanced Biology course. It is starting to look as though she will study some aspect of psychology, special ed, counseling, or therapy in college, so more work in biology seemed logical. For literature we are going to freewheel and simply try to add a few more great works to her personal anthology. Right now she is reading Fahrenheit 451.

When I was in high school, senior year was when you took government class. In keeping with that tradition, Caitlin is going to review American history and study economics and the U.S. Constitution. Our resources will be online course offerings from Hillsdale College and John Stossel, both of which are free. :-D To round out her curriculum she will continue her piano lessons. Her regular piano teacher took a job in Oklahoma, so I will fill in as piano coach for the time being. Tae Kwon Do is on hold until we get moved. Because of our move, Caitlin had to give up her community choir (a great loss), but right now she is singing with the youth choir at a nearby Lutheran church. We are thankful she can at least do that!

On to Evan. It's fourth grade and time to get serious. He is getting a little tired of Life of Fred math. That is fine with me, as I think right now he needs more drill than Life of Fred provides. So he will soon be starting on our family standby for this level, Saxon 54. For science we will use another family favorite, Exploring Creation with Astronomy (good preparation for all those stars he is going to see in Oklahoma!). We are still finishing up the yellow level of Learning Language Arts Through Literature; we will not be continuing to the next level but will also switch to Saxon for language arts. I have never used Saxon for writing and grammar so this will be a new experience. I mainly intend to use the book as a resource for concepts that I think Evan needs practice on. We will do a lot of the book orally and only do written exercises as needed. Evan has been working on the basics of cursive (Zaner-Bloser) and will continue refining his skill primarily through copying of Bible verses. I also ordered this book, hoping to work a little geography into the handwriting curriculum. I will have to tell you what I think of it later.

Our history spine will continue to be Story of the World, which we will supplement with historical children's fiction from our bookshelf. Evan is very interested in computer programming and has been learning some basics from Khan Academy. He will also be continuing with piano, of course, and after we move, church choir. Somewhere along the way we will try to work in some more swimming classes. Oh, and we are having fun these days with Schoolhouse Rock (especially the multiplication tables, since Evan is still struggling with a few of his facts).

I think that essentially covers it, other than catechism and family devotions, which are givens. Please let me know if you see any glaring omissions!