reformation halloween

"All who call on God in true faith, earnestly from the heart, will certainly be heard, and will receive what they have asked and desired, although not in the hour or in the measure, or the very thing which they ask. Yet they will obtain something greater and more glorious than they had dared to ask."

- Martin Luther

I could complain when Brett has to work on a Saturday, but that would be ludicrous when I have so much to be thankful for. Like the fact that I have a husband who works hard with nary a grumble for his family and God.

So while Brett put in hours and the sun shone, Norah and I walked to the thrift store to buy some clothes for the fast-growing Ryott. How fun is it to have a nephew?! For only ten bucks I got at least five adorable like-new outfits. Blue for his eyes, orange and green and brown for his outdoorsy dad, stripes for his style-savvy mama, warm and hardy fleece, thermal, and corduroy for a midwest winter, and two reversable beanies for his darling head.

On our walk we were surprised by -but quickly made friends with - a trio of beautiful dogs, two dobermans and a golden retriever whose owner apologetically explained "they are very quiet and friendly, but they think they own the sidewalk" while Norah fended off enthusiastic canine kisses. I'm glad Norah can grow up with a large (understatement) dog like Vic, but it is funny to hear her mimicking bellow "Quiet Bikdur!"

Sunday I was up early before church to bake cupcakes and cornbread, wrap gifts, and put the finishing touches on Norah's costume for a fall family birthday fest in the afternoon. She was a wild tawny lion, or possibly an ewok.

Needless to say, between our recently acquired ship's helm and my cousin's little boy Edmund Petersen, I am incredibly stoked for this year to culminate with my favorite Narnia book of the them all: Voyage of the Dawn Treader coming to theatres in December.

http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi732235289/


Or if you're in the mood for some local music, here is a hymn by Owl City, playing at his own Owatonna high school today.

http://owlcityblog.com/2010/10/25/my-hope-is-found/

sweater weather

Norah is 27 months old today. Two and a quarter years.

And it snowed.

It's all melted now, and a bitterly cold wind drives all the carpet of leaves away, but I got to walk to the post office amid actual flakes. Time for wrapping presents, baking cookies, wearing costumes, roasting turkey, singing carols, drinking cider/cocoa/chai/seasonally-spiced-coffee.

Brett and I just watched two movies I really liked. Me and Orson Welles was surprisingly unpredictable and an accurate and timeless portrayal of professional theatre, in my experience. Robin Hood (with Russell Crowe) surpassed my expectations, even if Medival English History was the only class I ever got a C in (quite deserved).

We are going to a Wild/Capitals game in the Twin Cities this week, and next month to a L'abri conference in Ames. I don't mind that it will take time to develop lasting friendships with others, because I'd most like to invite them over to my own house, which won't happen for a while anyway. I just don't want to get out of practice. There is plenty for me to steward meantime.

blusterful windsday

blocks brett is making for norah

that's right: snow

I'm making a scrapbook about Norah, and it's so great leafing through all the memories and setting them down in story form.

meet the johnsons

I could not have picked a better family to marry into.

My sister in law snaps a shot of her mom and dad.

We spent the weekend with my in-laws at Sakatah lake. Officially we were celebrating Nana and Tanka's 30th anniversary which was earlier this year, and although it did not end up raining like we were expecting (some of us wistfully...) we had a lovely time enjoying the fall weather, playing games, and partaking in delicious salmon and loads and loads of coffee.

Memorable story #1: Norah quickly took possession of the toy-and-book closet in the motel suite (it was rather like a b&b crossed with a cabin). When I put her to bed the first night, kissed and sung-to and tucked-in, she requested to sleep with her "glasses-phone", and it only took me a second to think through all her newfound friends and alight upon the answer. As you may see from the picture above, this innovative title belongs to what the less literal of us know as ...a ViewMaster.

Memorable story #2:
Andrea asked the unfortunate loaded question: What is the thing you most often wish for? " - and I don't want to know if it's sex," she qualified.

I don't know, maybe I suck at this game, or maybe I just forgot the fact that out of the six of us I am the only one who doesn't work outside the home, but I could not narrow it down without giving myself away (house, babies, snow) so I wrote down the less conspicuous response of "more time."

Turns out everyone was too vague. No points for Andrea. Actually I think she did get one point for Brett's continual wish for used cars. "More money" and "that I didn't have to work" just weren't specific enough. Andrea was particularly miffed that she didn't guess Brian's answer of going fishing, to which his defense was, "you said we couldn't put sex." Ooh, burn. And on your anniversary celebration weekend.

Memorable story #3: It didn't rain at all, it just misted a bit. We could have gone camping like we had originally intended. All in all, I think it worked out perfectly. We got to take family pictures against a gorgeous backdrop, the kiddos were super entertaining, and I only broke one glass and started one fire. (I think I broke a record!) By God's grace I put aside all disappointment and reservation, and gained a greater delight in the 30-year marriage of two of the least selfish people I know.

sabbath

church.
we believe we have found our church home. it is a relief and an affirmation that we are supposed to be here.

house.
basking in anticipation. not knowing the answer is at least better than knowing the answer is "not yet." i think?

work.
satisfying, challenging, and promising. we have yet to see how busy brett is kept in the winter, but he is optimistic, as usual. being a homemaker in an indefinitely transitory home keeps me in consistent dependence on the Spirit. after all, isn't that what this earth is?

play.
hurrah for fall! walks, books, crafts, food, campfires, holidays, and harvest fields. i am scrapbooking norah's baby book and looking forward to family get-togethers as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's approach (and birthdays and anniversaries).

life.
abundant.

tis better

i weep a bit watching videos of Norah as an infant. because i miss her babyness and i want another baby and who knows if my wait will never end.

i rebuke myself, for surely God has so far spared me miscarriage or worse. but what about

"tis better to have loved and lost than never loved at all"

?

please Lord bolster my contentment, patience, trust. i know that whatever happens will be to His glory and most certainly He is answering my prayer to grow me, even where it hurts. and i will never know the hurt that those who do not have any children know, for i have one, and she is precious, and i didn't even have to wait for her at all.

it is hard not to want to be God. to ask why i was given this life instead of another life. instead of the life of a Jew in Nazi Germany in 1942, instead of a American pioneer who lost their children and their crop to fire or locusts, instead of a soldier's wife in any era. it is hard to accept. yet followers of Christ have been commanded, encouraged, and enabled to "rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks."

everytime i consider my pain is also an opportunity to remember my hope. past hopes that have been fulfilled, and present hopes that will be one day. to redirect my focus to the abundance of good that exists is not to ignore the evil, but to acknowledge that Christ has overcome the grave, and to trust that He will write my story better than I think I can. i do not even have the fate of Job.

Brett says that he loves my passion, and he does not wish it away, but he does wish it did not have to be intertwined with pain. and my pain is his pain. i don't know what purpose my passion might have other than to be an encouragement and a help to others. let it be, Lord.

Matthew 7:9-11 "Or what man is there among you who, when his son asks for a loaf, will give him a stone or if he asks for a fish, he will not give him a snake, will he? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

exultation

The other day the three of us were crossing the street and out of the blue Norah shouts: "LOOKIT!"

We follow her eyes to the sky. Rising above the fiery fall foliage is a hot air balloon, close enough to hear the occasional whiish of the burner. Yet I marvel more at my daughter's reaction than the floating wonder that mesmerized her. Hahaha!

She is constantly asking what everything is. Lately the sounds of trains, fire engine sirens, helicoptors, motorcycles, airplanes, and street sweepers have fascinated her. "Whatsat?" she asks, over and over. Often she says "I hear it," or "I see it," when she wants us to respond by telling her the name of a newly discovered thing.

She is so in love with life! I know this because I witness it every day. She declares her love ("I love it!") to all manner of inanimate objects and showers them with hugs and kisses.

In some ways I share her vibrant joie de vivre. But ah how quickly that passion is crowded out by other cares. I thank God that one observant little girl stops in her tracks to gaze upward for a few awestruck moments.

give sorrow words

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
-Malcolm in The Scottish Play

Hosea 6:1
"Come, let us return to the Lord.
For He has torn us, but He will heal us;
He has wounded us, but He will bandage us."