rit·u·al (rĭch'ū-əl)

a. A detailed method of procedure faithfully or regularly followed: My household chores have become a morning ritual.

Rituals in and of themselves don't bring life, that's for sure. But they can be a wonderful way to celebrate life, I have found.

One Easter ritual for me is the ironing of special clothes the day before Easter Sunday. None of the items have to be new (although with my children they almost always are since at least the older two are in need of new summer dress clothes each year and I figure I might as well have those clothes by Easter Sunday if at all possible), but each is ever chosen with care. Honestly, though, are clothes what Easter is about? Of course not. But in the ironing and careful picking out of ruffled socks and leather belts, my heart is reminded of how special tomorrow is.

Another Easter ritual for me is the story of the cross and the resurrection being shared in simple yet true words that young children can understand. This has always been a part of my life, and I am appreciating the newness of the Gospel that reaches my heart as I slowly ponder how I might communicate such a marvelous event to a toddler and a pre-schooler. Honestly, though, is Easter about simplified terms and unrealistic illustrations in a picture Bible? Of course not. But in the carefully chosen words and the pictures of the cross, my heart is reminded of how available the Gospel is to whosoever will believe.

A third Easter ritual is cheesebraid for breakfast eaten on special dishes-- not the sort a mom would let her toddler use on just any occasion. Still another Easter ritual is a hardcover book wrapped and marking each child's place at that table. Is cheesebraid or china or books what Easter is about? Of course not. But in the once-a-year food, "company" dishes, and gift-giving, my heart is reminded afresh of the gift so great no word can describe its magnitude: salvation.

Each of these rituals have been simplified and modified this year because I am not tackling much that can't be done from a semi-reclined position these days. And yet Daniel and I have tried to maintain some of the things that mark this day from others, especially because we know our young children need tangible reminders that tomorrow is the day we have the celebration of all celebrations.

Rituals don't give life, but they are a powerful tool for worship and for teaching worship.

And I love to worship Jesus.

Last night we shared yet another meal I didn't make (though Daniel declared it wonderful and very like my much-loved recipe, which I then told him is a recipe I received from the cook who delivered last night's meal), but this time we had a college student join us for dinner. With my recent hiatus from-- um-- life, we haven't had many guests around our table of late. These days I am especially appreciating those who will skirt the toys on the floor, ignore the dust on the end tables, and leave the light dim in the bathroom to keep me company every now and then!

Tonight, we hope to make it out for the Good Friday service at church. I've never been to a Good Friday service. Liturgical services always seem new and fresh to me, which I suppose is backwards from many of my parents' generation. I'm glad I can enjoy both the traditional and non. It makes me feel blessed to have grown up in such a way that neither is spoiled for me.

However, I'm not sure we'll make it. An "emergency" trip to Potsdam sent Daniel out the door a mere 10 minutes ago, Jackson in hand. The other two children are under strict instructions to behave for mom (boy, do they ever know that I am limited these days and I must say that they are prone to taking advantage of this!) until his return. I hope it isn't too long, because we haven't even eaten yet.

But if it is, I'm already telling myself not to set my heart on what we may or may not do this evening. Another Good Friday service will undoubtedly present itself at some point in my lifetime; and even if it doesn't, there are bigger fish to fry.

There are also many things to be thankful for.

Many, many wondrous things. Many, many things beyond my comprehension. Many, many undeserved things. Many, many miracles.

Greatest of which is that Jesus not only died for me, but that He also rose again that I-- once a desperately lost sinner-- might live forever with Him one day.

Now how amazing is that?!

Around lunchtime, snow flakes were twirling through the air. They were the kind that seem to float eternally, never quite finding their way to the ground. Of course they eventually did, but since the ground is warm and soft and the sun is clear and bright, they melted immediately.

And so our spring surroundings continue, untouched by the cold temperatures and snow's attempt at a return.

The weatherman declares the weekend will be much the same as today, which almost caused me to mourn having moved so many miles north 1.5 years ago, but then I saw that even were I still in Pittsburgh my weekend would not be so different. So I figured I ought to stop complaining.

It's funny. Each year I hope that we will have warmth and sun on Easter Sunday and each year it is usually cold and often gray. Each year I wear a dress much more suitable to June or July weather and each year I shiver through the entire morning worship service, despite always planning a matching cardigan.

Each year, and with each shiver, I wonder if I am trembling because I am so cold, or if I am trembling because I am so in awe of what Jesus did for me. As long as Easter Sundays remain chilly, I suppose I won't know for sure.

Well, I'm still not entirely sure when my first trimester ended and the second began (was it 1 or 2 weeks ago?), but today, my appetite has clearly indicated that I have made the transition.

I think I could have out-eaten a grown man who spent the entire day doing manual labor!

(You think I'm kidding.)

A couple days after the week of multiple trips to check on the baby, Daniel was on the phone relaying everything that had been going on to Pastor Mike. I was later told that the words shared in response were, "Parenting sure isn't for the faint of heart, is it?"

And I must say that, no, it isn't.

The doubts that plague, the fears that can overtake, the discouragement that so easily creeps in, the sinful impulses that are plainly seen, the problems that arise, the work that is required... No, it isn't easy. Parenting isn't a task for those who will easily give up and give in.

I kind of feel silly saying that being a mom is the hardest thing I've ever done because, well, I'm 24. I haven't done a whole lot.

But I know this is hard.

Yet I have also seen the Lord in the many challenges of parenting in ways I had never before seen Him. His grace takes on whole new meaning when I myself am given opportunity after opportunity to extend forgiveness to my own children; His love becomes increasingly unfathomable as I feel my heart swell each day with passion so intense for my children it causes me to ache. When resolution to situations, behavior, and problems seem so distant in the future I just want to quit, I have experienced the strength of the Lord like never before. When guilt about things I could do better and do more of penetrates the deepest parts of me, I taste His promises with a tangibility I'd not previously known.

The growth in me these last four years hasn't felt very spiritual most of the time. To be honest, most days it just feels like plain old hard work. It feels like choosing them instead of me. It feels like less sleep, less fun, more fret, and more responsibility. And yet the yield has been the greatest of my life.

So, yes, parenting isn't for the faint of heart. But it is for those who will call upon the Lord.

Because He never faints or grows weary. Because His watchful eyes are ever on me and mine. Because He will turn our striving into peace. Because He is trustworthy.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,

Till all our strivings cease;

Take from our souls the strain and
stress,

And let our ordered lives confess

The beauty of Thy peace.
- John G. Whittier

I've read quite a few books over the last 2 weeks. Many have been good and more have been mediocre. My favorite "bedrest material" so far has been this book, borrowed from my mom's bookshelf. I'm only about halfway through and, while it may not be revolutionary if you've been around solid teaching on home and family, it is just the fresh encouragement I've been needing to keep on keeping on.

There are many great nuggets in this easy and quick read (I read half the book yesterday and will definitely finish the other half today). A favorite so far?

You need, husband and wife, drastic new exposures to each other. With a true pioneering spirit that's excited, cautious, relentless, you need to push into each other's hearts where no one else has ever been before, and discover, all on your own, what has never before been fathomed in your partner by anyone but God: the dark places, the bright places, the agonies and the ecstasies. And the more you come upon, the more you gather it all up in your arms and say, "This is all mine, God's gift to me," and hold tightly this amazing, labyrinthine, dearest treasure who is your Other Self.

The more children we have, the more years Daniel is in full-time ministry, and just the more life he and I live together, the easier it is to become strangers fulfilling shared (and many not-so-shared, to be brutally honest) obligations. There are too many days when all our daylight hours have been lived with him doing his thing and me doing mine, followed by night hours spent side by side in body but not in soul and spirit. It is too easy in the busy pace of life to speak very few words to each other besides, "Can you wash up the baby?" or "Don't wait up for me; I'll be out late."

One thing Daniel and I have begun being more disciplined about in 2007 is carving out intentional time for talking about the real things in our hearts. What a world of difference it has made! I have found myself feeling content in companionship, connected to what Daniel is doing because I get to hear firsthand about much of his activities, and stirred in my faith because there is a daily conversation about what God is speaking and doing.

Each morning, we settle the children and then sit to share a cup of coffee (well, for many weeks I wasn't drinking coffee because it would make me sick, but you know what I mean...) and conversation. It works for us, since evenings are at a much higher premium when working with college students than 7:00am is. I'm not a morning person, so trying to think and speak intelligently at that time is a challenge for me, but it is one I am find is well worth the effort. Not only is it a profitable and pleasant time, but the rest of my day is dramatically altered: I don't succumb to feelings of being alone, disconnected, or overwhelmed nearly as easily when the first items of my day's agenda are time with the Lord followed by time with Daniel.

Of course, three months later we are starting to be less consistent in this routine. The constant interruptions by little people (I must at least gratefully acknowledge that they are more easily entertained first thing in the day than they are later) and the pressing needs represented in long "to do" lists, combined with human nature's tendency to get bored with and give up on disciplines, has resulted in slack of late.

Yesterday and today, though, I am stirred afresh to know and treasure the amazing gift I have been given in my husband. God didn't tell me to marry so I wouldn't have to lock the front door at night or mow the lawn any more. He wants me to partner with this man in together representing Himself and His Church to the world. I can't do this if I have abandoned knowing and valuing the very person who makes me a "couple."

At any rate, I am recommending the book. There is much more addressed than just the husband/wife relationship. I am appreciating this reading very, very much and think it may bless others, too!

Edit: Here is another excerpt I read just now that I thought I would include, too. My dad has quoted it before, but it's worth hearing again!

I was visiting friends who'd just celebrated their 54th wedding anniversary. The husband tramped in from work leaving clods of dirt on the carpet. I said, "His boots certainly bring the dirt in." "Yes," she smiled, and went for the vacuum, "but they bring him in, too."

The Latest

:: I went to church yesterday for the 6th time so far this calendar year. It was wonderful. These last several weeks have given me a new sense of appreciation for corporate gatherings with my family in Christ. No amount of solid reading, good worship music, or challenging thoughts replaces the encouragement and stirring I receive when I am around others who love Jesus. I need it.

:: This weekend has been spent at my family's house. Everyone has gone above and beyond to make sure the children are cared for-- especially Camilla. I'm still here at Mom's, since a typical Monday starts for Daniel at 9:30am and ends at 10:30pm. That's a long time for this mom who isn't supposed to be climbing stairs or lifting children to be on her own, so we just opted to stay here one more day.

:: Daniel said the BASIC weekend was amazing. The crew that went down was the biggest to date and the time there has been declared by several as "the best yet!" Everyone seems to be agreeing that, though they missed worship with Isaiah Six, it was a powerful time and they were met by the Lord. One international student even gave his life to the Lord!

:: Several noted yesterday (I was noticing a couple days prior) that I'm starting to get that infamous baby "bulge." Experienced moms have told me that it happens earlier each time and I seem to be proving them all right. I think I will be in maternity clothes well before 20 weeks this time around.

:: Easter Sunday is around the corner and I find my anticipation building. There won't be decorations out at my house this year and I won't be making cheesebraids or cardamom bread, but nothing can take away the joy of salvation. As Christians saved by grace, we are hopefully celebrating our Savior's death and resurrection everyday. still, I cannot deny the distinct sense of rejoicing that Easter Sunday always brings.

:: The kids are watching a movie with several of extended family members. I am enjoying the fact that I can sit in the kitchen with music on and not worry about what might be (is?) happening in the other room.

:: ... Yeah... that's all.