Happy Halloween!

"This is the day that the Lord has made, 

let us rejoice and be glad in it!"

On holding hands and telling stories

They sat together today. He in the chair. She on the bed. She held his hand. She told him about the grandchildren opening the trunk of costumes out in the barn. And the hours of fun the children had trying on costumes and looking at the mirror. And he smiled and laughed (a silent laugh but a laugh none-the-less). She told him how they caught a mole. And how Sophie held it. And how it had paws like shovels and silky fur. And he smiled and laughed some more.

 She asked him if he'll be able to polka in November when the kids come for Thanksgiving to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. He shrugged his shoulders.

We cheered when he sat in a chair today because it has been days and days and days since he sat in a chair. And the Occupational Therapist had him shrug his shoulders today. Perhaps that's why he was good at that.

He asked her to massage his arms. And she did. So lovingly. Together almost fifty years. Their oneness evidenced by me in the hospital today. Invited and welcomed to be there.

And we are thankful that he breathes today. Better than yesterday.

Thankful for today.
Thankful that he breathes.
Thankful that he communicates.
Thankful she held his hand and they shared life together today.
Thankful for a story about costumes and moles during a long hospital ICU stay.

Maybe more of my time should be spent holding hands and telling stories.
Creating more margin for the real space of real life to take place.

I am thankful for today, even though he is still in ICU, even though it has been longer than 30 days.
Amen.

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What are you thankful for today?

Linking with Ann, Jen and Emily this week.

FMF: On voice

My youngest using his voice.

 On voice.
My daughter sings with a lovely voice with the Nashville Children's Choir. My father-in-law has lost his voice due to a tracheostomy. And as a wanna-be-author, I am trying to find my voice. Speaking up for those who do not have a voice.Singing with a lovely voice. Learning to communicate without a voice.

Our voice speaks. Our voice needs to be heard. We want to be heard. We want to communicate. We want to interact. Some voices are high. Some are low. Sometimes we can hear the voices but we do not understand what is being said.

Voices. Unique. A way to give thought. A way to interact. Voicing our opinions. Voice: it is important.

****
Whew! I haven't participated in Five Minute Friday in awhile. (Click HERE if you are interested in participating or reading other entries.) This was a hard go. But I am going to play along and hit publish after five minutes of writing with no editing. Publishing as is! Yikes!  Obviously, I need to keep practicing this exercise of writing for five minutes on a topic.

Happy Friday friends. What would you like to voice today?
--Kathleen

On root canals & mother comfort

Kip & I on the front porch of Mt. Vernon on our recent vacation.

I spoke with my mom yesterday. I told her that I had a root canal done. She said, oh is that your first one? She told me that she has had three or four done. And that she has 8-9 crowns. I'm in the process of getting my first crown for the tooth that they did the root canal on.

Why is it that I feel better now that I know my mom has also had a root canal done and has crowns? Not sure. But she still has all of her teeth and no dentures. Is it simply hope to keep my teeth? Or is it the knowing that I'm not the only one?

I know a few other friends who have also had them done. But it made me feel better knowing that my mom had had them done. Kind of like a mom hug from across the  miles.

I guess the comfort of a mother is a lifelong gift to treasure while we can.

A 30 Day Prayer

art by Kathleen Jaeger

For 30 days my father-in-law has been in the hospital. For half of those days, he has needed help to breathe with a ventilator. For 21 of those days, he has been in ICU. For the last week, he has been in a regular room with no major set-backs. This week has been slow & steady progress, much better than the drastic up & down roller-coaster we had been on.

A week with no major set-backs has meant that I have cleaned the bathrooms, straightened the house, made a meal plan for the first time in awhile. My daughter was able to practice the piano every day.

The past thirty days -- though filled with crisis, pain, tears, confusion, and a lot of driving. They have also been filled with time spent with friends and family around the table sharing stories. Lots of prayers and hugs. Lots of out of town family coming into town.

Today I felt very, very drained. In my devotional the verses said, "Consider it all joy when you encounter trials of various kinds..." and "bring the sacrifice of thank offerings..." Though the week itself was lighter, I think the stress & difficulty of the past 3 weeks caught up and came crashing down upon me.

At just the right time, a friend sent a note with a Starbuck's gift card and a verse about the soul being weary...at just the right time there was spiritual encouragement at a Bible study and a very real meal delivered to me & my family.

It is easy to think of how tired I am. How hard it has been. It takes effort to focus on the amazing timing of events displaying God's love and care in the midst of great strain. But I do want to focus on that. This post is part of that...but know there is struggle and there is life. And there is  a God who cares about us all.

Thank you, God for breath. Thank for the progress of my father-in-law this week.
Amen.

Also linking with Jen, click here for more encouragement.

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How about you? Has there been a season of trial in which you could still see God working and displaying His loving-kindness?

5 pieces of advice for a mother-to-be

A diaper cake created by my lovely daughters Sophie & Meagan.

Over the weekend, I hosted a baby shower for a dear friend and I've been thinking about words of wisdom that I would give to this new momma-to-be. Oh, there are lots of particulars that I remember having to learn. Such as which foods to feed when and such.And I don't remember those particulars anymore (even though my youngest is only 6).But these are some  principles that I gleaned along the way. I'm sure I've only scratched the surface. But here goes:


Peek at your children every night when they are asleep.
Look at that beautiful, sleeping face that you love without smudges, tears, or temper tantrums and fall back in-love with your baby. The harder the day; the more crucial it is to peek at them.

"Are you peeking again?" My husband would say, as he climbed out of bed to join me in my nightly ritual. Soon enough, he was as addicted to peeking as I was.

Hmmmm. It has been awhile since I've peeked at the children. Perhaps it's time to begin again. Or perhaps it's because they often go to bed just before me and are not yet asleep. Our stage has changed which leads us to the next tip:

Embrace the stage
Each stage of mothering has its challenges...and its joys. When they are newborns, they interrupt your sleep. A. Lot.  But they also fall asleep in your arms. They cry but smile only at you. Toddlers challenge your directions but they are fascinated with discoveries. Dandelions become wishing flowers. They are seeing the world for the first time, reminding us adults of fascinating discoveries we've forgotten long ago.

When the interrupted sleep and the seemingly constant challenges to our authority tempts us to wish they were older OR were already potty-trained. Remember, that we are also wishing away the cute hugs and kisses, how easy they are to hold or whatever the treasure of that stage is.

Embrace each stage with its challenges and joys.

Do what works.
Yes, seek wisdom. Read some books, ask some questions of mom peers and older-than-you moms. But in the end...do what works. Which really means: gain confidence in your own motherly insight.

Even the first time they hand a crying baby to you over the very experienced moms in the room because you're the mom and you don't have as much mothering experience. Even then you're the expert because you're the mom of this baby and you love that baby in a way no one else does.

That love goes a long way.

I gleaned this hint of Do What Works just a day  into the new motherhood journey. In the hospital, struggling to nurse my newborn. The night nurse handed me a nursing shield. I didn't want to use it because all of the expert books said that this would confuse the baby and hinder his bonding process.

In the middle of the night, the nurse gently said, "You do what works." I used the shield. The baby & I both calmed down as he nourished his hungry, growing body. Even though I worried about what I was doing. If it was right or wrong. In the end it worked. My baby grew.

And as I grew in my motherly confidence, I realized that what works in your home looks a lot different from the books or how someone explains it to you. So if it is working, don't worry. Embrace it. Be thankful that it's working. Because there are certainly times when nothing works.

And for those times, remember this: 

When all else fails, send them to bed.
My mother in law told me this. So when "do what works" isn't working. Send them to bed. Turns out that this philosophy works well for toddlers, teenagers, and moms, too!.

Many times when I am in the kitchen prepping the next meal and the kids are fussing and I can barely think, then "when all else fails, send them to bed" floats into my mind.

Sometimes this means picking them up and setting them in their cribs. Sometimes it means they will walk to their beds and climb in with little or no fuss. Sometimes they won't go... and well that's another  story. But if they will go I highly recommend this practice.

Some quiet moments on the bed gives a needed break from each other's expectations. We need a place to be quiet, to think, pray, read, or sleep by ourselves without a screen to amuse us. This is a learned skill. And an important one at that because it refreshes the soul.

But do remember that not all things are solved during a 30 minute nap so hear this:

It takes time.
My mother-in-law said this when I was lamenting about how long it was taking to potty-train my first child. She said, "It takes time." In our high pressure culture to do, to see, to conquer. It's hard to slow down and take the time.

But that is what the children need. Time. It takes time to comb the tangles out. It takes time to learn how to use a toilet after years of never having used one.It takes time to walk from here to there.

This is an overarching principle:. It takes time. It takes time for a baby to become an adult. If it was quick and easy, we would be like the animals who send their children off in a year's time. But we don't. We have a much longer learning curve than that.

Our lives are in process. We all need time. Time to be who we are created to be. Parenting takes time. And in this culture where time is almost as precious as money and fame, it is a self-sacrificing place to take the time to walk as slow as a toddler needs.

To take the time to teach and to train instead of fussing at them for things they couldn't possibly know. It takes time to embrace the moment. Time to find what works and to do it. Time to send them to bed and take a break to breathe. Time to peek at them.

Take the time. Because before you know it seven minutes will have gone by and they'll be gone.

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What would you add?  What are some principles of parenting that you have gleaned? 

Linking with Jen at SDG sisters, click HERE for more inspiration.

On tears

The pages are wrinkled
In that spot

In that spot where
The tears that have fallen
So many times

Were they the tears during the hardest nine months?
Were they the tears for the one we lost?
Were they the tears from the lonely nights?
Tears from the times I'd blown it again?
Were they the tears from the years we ached for children?
Were they  the tears of sadness for my sister, her husband, and daughter
Who lost him to a battle of cancer

Are they for the child who wishes he knew
Where his mother was when he woke up

I opened the book
My eyes saw it again
The wrinkled spot on the page

In that wrinkled spot
It is...written

He hears my cry
He counts my tears
And captures them in a bottle
Mourning may last for the night
But a shout of joy comes in the morning

And so I wait for the morning

With my tears
And the pages
Written by my God

Who will rescue us from here.
One day.
And wipe away those tears
One
Last
Time
* * *
Linking with Jen and with Emily.