A Resurrection Life

"And if the spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his spirit who lives in you." Romans 8:11 NIV

These are my thoughts as we head into Easter Sunday:
Through the work of Christ on the cross, I am living a Resurrection life.
A life free of the bonds and guilt of sin and the threat of death and hell.
A life promised to eternity.
A life of communion with God through Jesus Christ.
A life indwelt with His Holy Spirit.
A life of healing.
A life of joy and peace.
A life of purpose and passion for His purposes and passions.
And in my not-so-resurrection moments, like when I was frustrated with my children earlier today, there is the possibility and the hope that the very next moment can be, will be one of rising again from death to myself unto life with Him.
I must choose to die to me -- my wants, my dreams, my comforts -- so that I can live in the dream of God.
The resurrection life of God, who raised Jesus, dwelling in me makes it a possibility, a reality.

Today was relaxing.
The boys slept over a friends house (a very rare treat!), so it was quiet this morning. I missed them so much I could hardly stand it.
Finally, they arrived home in a flutter of ruffled excitement, unrolled sleeping bags sweeping behind them as they burst into the house. I was making muffins for the Easter Breakfast fund-raiser, and they piled into the kitchen, wanting to eat the warm, soft muffins steaming and fresh from the oven. They had so many stories to tell.
After a bit, we all went to the church to see how the Easter production was coming along. It is quite powerful, and I am looking forward to seeing the whole thing tomorrow.
When we got home, we played a new game I got for the boys called In A Pickle.
What a fun game. Here are the basics of play:
There are like, a jazillion word cards (320 really) with "nouns of all shapes and sizes" on them.
Each player gets five, and then four cards are laid out N, S, E, W fashion, with a word facing outward.
Players determine if they have a word that is smaller than any of the words in play (which then get played behind the appropriate word card in play) or larger (which then gets played on top of the appropriate word card in play).
The player to lay the fourth card on a "row" creates a "pickle round" in which each player is allowed to trump his/her card with a larger word card.
The effect is something like this:
leftovers
refrigerator
office
New York
You are encouraged to be creative, but another player can challenge your word choice. You can defend it, but in the end, a vote among the other players decides if your word stays or goes.
In the end, the player with the most word rows wins.
Are these instructions clear as mud, yet?
It took us a few "rows" to get the hang of it, but then we got going and we had fun.
Isaac loved it, even though he was losing, which, as a 9 year old boy, is hard for him.
Josiah didn't like it so much because he had difficulty reading some of the words. He ended up helping Dad so as not to become frustrated. His final comment on it, "I liked it a little and I didn't like it a little." There you go.

I thought it was a great game; fun and challenging. You really have to think about where to put your words.
Joe won.
We had some frozen pizzas for dinner, and after baths, we dyed and decorated some eggs to share with family and friends tomorrow.



Daniel has been into everything all day, and looks like he's been caught "red-handed"!

This one's from yesterday. I couldn't resist. Sportin' that squash 'stache!

Now I must make my way to the kitchen to clean up the cups with the multi-colored dyes in them.
"Where is the resurrection life in that?" one may ask.
"All our acts have sacramental possibilities." (Freya Stark)
Everything we do, including cleaning the kitchen, may be done with purpose and joy, in servanthood, laying our lives down for our families, our friends, the kingdom. The common made holy through dying to ourselves daily so we can rise with Him in the power of the resurrected Christ.
I love this song, and found this video on YouTube. I think it says what I am trying to, only better. Enjoy.


Happy Easter, everyone.

Welcome Home, Joe!

Today was a great day!
Joe came home from Sweden.
The boys and I got up this morning with anticipation.
I had coffee with a friend and we had some great talk time. While she was here, Joe called to say they'd be a few hours earlier than expected.
After coffee, we got ready and the boys and I went to pick up dad.
Daniel was fussing as I tried to get him in his car seat.
Josiah was talking to him in high pitched tones, trying to distract him while I buckled him in.
When we were finally triumphant, I let out a sigh, and Josiah turned to me and said, "Having a baby is hard work . . . a lot of hard work!"
"Yes it is", I said.
It made me chuckle.
When Joe arrived the boys ran to meet him and hugged him, welcoming him home with enthusiasm.

It took Daniel a minute to register who he was, I think. He stared into his face for several minutes. Then, slowly, a grin began to form on his bottom lip and it spread all the way to his eyes. Daddy was home!

When we got back to the house, Joe unloaded goodies from his luggage, candy and coffee and a special treat for me - a beautiful Italian-made teapot and four tea cups. It is so beautiful and unique. Very delicate. I am anxious to have tea from it.

We sampled some candies and looked at photos and videos of the trip. Joe said it was an amazing time.

The highlight, for him, was visiting our friends Frank and Betina in Denmark and seeing the communal church there in action.
God is doing some marvelous things in the earth in these days. I am so happy that Joe got to see some of it firsthand and can share it with us.
This afternoon, we just relaxed and talked and hung out around the house.
We made our way to family dinner and found Gramp cooking up a storm when we got there. Joe shared some more about the trip, but he was very tired from the traveling, so we did not stay too long.

On our way home, a full moon hung in the sky, pregnant with the promise of sleep for the weary and the possibilities of a new tomorrow.

Now, we are all back at our house, settling in for the night. It is good to have Joe home.
As usual, I am the only one up now, recording our day in this post.
I thank God for Joe's safe return, for his hand of protection on us while he was away.
I think of all the people Joe talked about. All the people he met and talked with, shared heart and soul with, half a world away. I believe one day I will meet them.
I think about what God is doing in the places where they live.
I think of Micah and Sarah in Suwon, Korea.
I think of all the bridges that are being forged and formed by God's hands and our willing hearts.
I can see and hear the heartbeat of God resounding in each of these places, evident in the stories and testimonies we hear from friends all over the globe. And though I am amazed to see that what is happening in Sweden is what is happening in Korea is what is happening in Denmark is what is happening here in the States, I shouldn't be.
Same God, different places -- that is what it all comes down to.
It's a big world, but God is bigger.
He is over all and in all and through all.

Can life get any. . . life-ier?

Know what I did tonight?
I played poker with my nine year old.
Now, before you get all lathered up about what I'm teaching the boy, I'll have you know he was teaching me. I've never played poker in all my . . . well, many years.
He came home from school with this newfound knowledge earlier in the week. What?! I'm sure poker fits into a classical education somehow, right . . . No, actually his friend taught him.
What?! I have to worry about this now . . .
Although I am reticent about my child participating in such a "worldly" past-time, after a thorough moral lesson on the evils of gambling, we sat right down with a bowl of peanuts and pistachios between us and cut the deck.
It was so much fun.
I suspect we are not playing it entirely correctly, but oh well.
It was good to sit and relax and get my mind off of everything else that is going on, and to be able to spend time with my boys while doing it.
I've been a bit stressed today.
We signed the contract for our house, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, it is officially sold.
We also looked at some houses today, and we spent a lot of time at one in particular that we've had our eye on since we put our house on the market almost a year ago. It is not my "dream house"; I can be realistic about that. But I think it could be. It is a nice house, a light house, a peaceful, friendly, inviting house with lots of yard and land for the three boys to fight pirates and ride horses and conquer Rome, and whatever else it is boys do when they play outside in wide open spaces.
We looked at that house twice today. Once this morning, and once more this evening with the boys (who spent the entire time wrestling around in every room! They feel at home already.)
We were feeling good about the house and were prepared to make an offer in the morning.
After arriving home and ordering pizza for a Friday night treat, our realtor called and said, "You're not going to believe this but . . ."
Apparently, not more than five minutes after we pulled out of the driveway of that house, a couple called and said they were preparing to make an offer on that very same house, and would have made a verbal offer right then, but they were turned down on that because they do not have their financing secured yet.
My heart sunk into my toes, and my faith wavered ever so slightly.
After calling Joe frantically to explain the situation, and discussing it in brief, he called and put a bid in, but . . . we'll see.
It is all I can do to keep from biting all my nails off and crying my head off.
It's all so emotional, this house stuff.
Poker night is over and all the boys are sleeping soundly. I am not able to sleep just yet. There are so many things going through my mind. All the packing, all the toting, all the settling in again. And if we lose this house, what are we to do?
It is overwhelming.
I turn, as I always must, to scripture. I look for answers not in myself, but in Him who is "over all, and through all, and in all" (Eph. 4:6) and while reading Ps. 94, I come upon this: "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul."
Console me, O God. Bring joy to my soul as only you can. It is in You, and not houses or lands that my peace and my joy is found. Help me not to forget that in this process.
If you read this, please pray with us that we will have peace and wisdom as we are in this process.

Home, Sweet Home

We are selling our house.

Yup. The cozy yellow cottage will enfold some other family soon, will hold their feasting, laughing, yelling, snuggling, crying, sleeping, waking, dreaming, being within its noble timbers as it has held ours this past year and a half, almost two years, really.
We've been here such a short time, but there have been many memories made. Happy ones, sad ones, good ones, great ones, bad ones. All ours to take with us where ever we are going.
As sorry as I am to leave this house, I know that a house does not a home make. Home is made by the people in the house, by how they live together and how they love each other and what they believe in.
There is a great adventure in our near future. There is another house out there to become acquainted with, to make our home. It is quite exciting, really.
God is God, and we believe that He alone is sovereign, that He is good, and that He has plans for each of our lives, separately and as a family. He is more interested in home than anyone because He created it. He knows, even now, where we will be when the dust settles from all of this, even though we do not yet.
I rest in this. I thank Him for His kindness to us thus far.
I will not be anxious about this (though at times that takes a concentrated effort). I will, in all things, with prayer and thanksgiving present my request to God.
My request is this: God, draw us to the house that is to be ours; dwell there even now, fill it with Your peace and presence, preparing the way for us to come home.