Strange Times

We are living in strange times. The parking lot next to my favorite Starbucks is empty. Even the drive through is closed. The news is packed with details on a virus that just a few months ago, was unnamed. In our news feed we see statistics, grim updates on the progression of the virus, and reminder after creative reminder to wash our hands.

And yet, despite the seeming end of the world as we know it (or at least it's pause), outside my window a cardinal lands to feed at our feeder. The flowers bloom and grow. The sun rises and sets in a stunning display of color. 

And inside my window, perhaps yours too, life goes on. We rise in the morning. We pull out dishes from the cupboard to feed our families, washing them, returning them, grateful that we have food to eat together. We work, we teach, we learn, we pray, we continue living. And at night we return to our pillows, grateful for the simple rhythms that still exist, hopeful that tomorrow will bring good news. 

We are always living history, but how much more so right now. We have entered another culture-defining-era, and I think it very possible that our nation will emerge, changed. 

How, I’m not sure. I'm not sure what the white papers will say about us in years to come if the world remains that long. How our generation will be shaped, informed by this season, granted wisdom perhaps.

But for now, as we watch, as we read, as we wait, let’s unite in prayer for God’s individual guidance and protection over those we love, and His collective healing of our land.

Photo by Richard Gatley on Unsplash

A Glimpse of Love at Seventy

Today I slid into yoga class a few minutes late.  I squeezed my mat next to an elderly couple, who were sitting close together, leaving a bit of extra room.

As the class progressed, I noticed the man was coaching his wife, helping her place her block, explaining some of the moves to her.  She was frail and thin, but trying.

I don't know their story, but it looked to me like a man who is trying to help his wife gain back some of her health and improve her strength.  And if that means he too attends yoga class, then so be it.

Love, I imagine, finds different expressions at seventy than at thirty.

While flowers, and chocolate, and surprise tropical vacations are almost always welcomed.  How much more the every day kindness that we show.

The willingness to help one another accomplish more than we could alone.

Here's to loving well.  Whether it's that first year of marriage where everything is new, after kids when compromise takes on a new meaning, or in the senior years, when love might look like driving your spouse to yoga.

Photo by Valentin Antonucci on Unsplash

Choose your practice

One of the things that I love about yoga is the ability to choose your own practice.

Many forms of exercise require pushing yourself, stretching your limits, going above and beyond.

Yoga takes a different approach, instead inviting you to honor your body, to pay attention to how you feel today, and what kind of movement would benefit you in that moment.

Perhaps today is the day you want to deepen your stretch, to attempt a handstand, to hold plank for thirty seconds.  Or perhaps today you need to take a longer child's pose, to move out of downward dog before the class, or stretch less on your right side than your left.

It's all allowed. You choose your practice.

And the instructor doesn't say a word.

While some people may prefer being pushed, and appreciate an instructor who will challenge them to work harder, reach further. Others prefer to be treated as someone who know already knows their limits and their intentions.

Maybe that makes it easier to come to the mat.  Because you can tell the truth with who you are, and who you hope to be.  You can leave your practice a little calmer, a little lighter, and with a stronger core.

So here's to choosing our practice.  May we be willing to know where we are, and hopeful to move with intention to where we wish to be.

Photo by Simon Rae on Unsplash

When does it get easier?

As a new mom, I often wondered, when will it get easier?  Translation:  When will life feel a little more like it did before this wonderful little person entered our world?

I found it was a journey- one we are still on of course.  But I thought I would share a few of our milestones as reflection on our Year One story and also an encouragement to other new moms walking this same beautiful sleepy road.

• When your hormones even out- for me around 6-8 weeks.
• When your baby starts to smile (around 5 weeks) and coo!!! (around 10 weeks)
• When you can carry your baby on your hip.  (I don't remember this timeline...but after they can hold their head up.)
• When you can set them on a blanket for 5 minutes while you make coffee and they are entertained by a book or toy.
• When their personality shines through and you realize they are a little person!
• When they can eat puffs and Cherrios! (8 months) This makes going out to eat so much better!
• When they can eat from your plate!  (9-12 months and counting.)
• When they start talking/pointing and you understand better what interests them and what they want in the moment.  (Around 11-12 months)
• When they have a schedule- somewhat.  For us this was all over the place for a long time.  I might have tried to have a routine.....but she wanted to eat about every two hours and naps where random. As her daycare provider says "No-one makes Ellarose take a nap!" But sometime around 6-8 months we got a general schedule of naps and feedings and bedtime.  
• When bedtime is between 7:30 and 8:00.  (Around 10 months.)  This really helps with chores and also time with your spouse!

For other moms- what milestones made life a little easier and more enjoyable with your sweet little ones?

Happy New Year!

Cheerios

Cheerios, Cheerios, everywhere
On the floor in the car, in a bag, in your chair.

Perfect for snacking, fun in a book
Lights up your face, easy to squish.

One day our home, may be in less disarray.
But I’m so glad Cheerios are here for today.

Mama, help me

As my daughters personality emerges I’m noticing when she acts like herself and when she loses control.

When she cries uncontrollably it’s like she is saying “Mama, help me.  Something is wrong and I don’t know how to fix it.”

And of course we try. Are you hungry? Sleepy? Tummy hurting?  Do you need cuddles or perhaps a teether and a bit of Tylenol?

Finally there is a breakthrough. She sniffles, calms, smiles, and returns to herself.

I wonder, does this happen to adults sometimes? I hope we have better understanding and mastery over ourselves than a 7 month old, but perhaps we too have times where everything seems foggy and we know something isn’t right but can’t see how to fix it.

How wonderful are the people who see us when we don’t see ourselves.

Who reach out with a phone call, a meal, a hug.  Who offer a kind mirror reflecting back the person we are growing to be. Not perfect but deeply loved.

May we all have someone who will listen when we say, “Please, help me.”

We will make art

It’s a bold statement in a beautiful book called A Million Little Ways by Emily P Freeman.

I just finished the book and I wonder. How is this true for me?  It feels true. Courageous. Right. But in my stage of life,  I prioritize a shower and making sure my family eats.  I have little margin.  So when can I make art? (Background: in this book art is what we create with our lives as image bearers not simply what we can paint with a brush.)

I used to go to Starbucks on Sunday to write. Order a warm latte and sip slowly letting words flow.  I used to make time for art.  And I imagine one day naps will be more predictable and take place in her bed instead of my arms.  And I will find time for this again.

But today is hers.  I am her soft bed.  She is my art and I am her canvas.

And I look to our Master Artist to bless the work we are developing.  To show me how to live as an artist even now. And teach her to do the same.