Jesus at Disney World

True confessions of a stay at home mom during a week when Daddy is away:

My favorite time of the day is the end of it.

For many reasons, including the fact that both children are (typically) clean, fed, full (unless you are Elam and eating an apple 4 minutes after he has declared himself full from dinner) and ready for bed.  Or if by some act of God, in bed already without whining.

One main reason I love the end of the day is praying and studying the Bible with Calista.  It is enlightening (and challenging.  What possessed me to start with Genesis?  These people make babies every other chapter and sometimes with people not their spouse and anyway there are some tricky passages to edit for my 6-year old).

Calista and I try to do a 5-step prayer time each night.  We read the Bible and pray in various ways.  Lastly, we watch a Youtube.com video of a worship song.

Tonight we were watching The Revelation Song which shows Jesus movie clips.  It is very moving, if you want to watch here is the link:

At some point, Calista says, “Wouldn’t it be cool if Jesus had been at Disney World?”

disney“Like dressed up, walking around among the princesses?” I ask.

“Yep.  Like a Prince.”

Agreed.

A moment that makes the end of this day very sweet.

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Machines: Ode to my Grandmother

diaries2After last week’s post of my feeling of insignificance for not accomplishing more stunning feats of strength, I got to thinking about my grandmother.

My grandmother wrote in a 5-year diary every day for most of her life.  Here are some excerpts from her actual diary, 1943-47.

September 1diary8, 1944

“Washed, including bedroom and bathroom curtains.  Started washing bedroom walls at 3:00 and quit at 6:00.  But not done.  Mended, listened to radio and wrote letter in evening.”

April 12, 1945

“Put zippers in two dresses.  Took car over to get serviced in afternoon.  World stunned by Pres. Roosevelt’s death!  Worked on budget in evening & wrote letter.”

August 8, 1945

“Nice day – drove to farm.  Cut out dress for self – slip and underwear for Susan.  Took bath in creek.  Cut lawn.  Wrote letter in evening.  Read.”

April 11 1947

“Cleaned house.  Mended.  To YCC (youth meeting of some sort?) progressive dinner in evening.  Bob in town so few of us wound up going over to Bill’s for more coffee.”  I’ll bet she needed that coffee.

Context: my grandmother was home with two girls, born almost 18 months apart, while her husband was across the country or across the world serving in the Army during WW2.

I get tired just reading these pages.  She was a machine.

Come to think of it, all of us Johnson women are.

I just got off the phone with my mom.  She was mentioning how her sister had made some neat Easter favors at a party they just attended.  “I don’t know how she has time to do it all!”

Ironically, Mom had spent the day at meetings in St Paul and finished making a million bon bons for May Day baskets for church.  She was rushing to eat dinner so she and Dad could get to church on time tonight, where Dad is preaching…

I wish I could accomplish much more interesting things than I do.  But I just don’t.

What’s amazing is that my grandmother rarely missed a day writing down all of these tasks in her little journals.  For her, it was enough to just write it down.

I guess I’m like her in that way too.

 

 

 

 

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I might have to unfriend some of you…

Last night I was perusing Facebook and came into the room and said to Brian, “I may have to unfriend a few… friends.  I just can’t read about their exciting adventures, trips, evangelistic campaigns and amazing days anymore!”

I read about all of you and your lives.  Just like most of us do, spying on one another with permission.  We give each other permission to peek in the back door, hear the funny things our kids say, the kitchen accidents we’ve had and the ways we have endured this winter.

We also use it to inform or sometimes, in a healthy way, boast about our amazing lives.  Trips.  Conferences.  Speaking engagements.  Accomplishments at work.  New pregnancies.  New homes.  New cars.  Success.  Success.  Success.

Then I think about my own victories as a stay at home house manager.  Yesterday I successfully cleaned the bathroom.  Twice.  (note: I hate messy, muddy, dirty spring days.)

Today I successfully hosted a play date without one child beating another one.  At least we didn’t catch them if they did.

How do I look?

How do I look?

And Elam successfully sat still for his first real haircut.  His choice.  (Normally he screams like we are torturing him and I have to text the neighbors that it’s just hair cut day at the Askers.)

Tonight I successfully got two children into bed before overnight guests arrive.

Whoopee.

So like I said, I might have to unfriend you all…

OR

Maybe I could just rejoice in those small victories.  It might not be worth a FB status or a Tweet.

But it is worth writing about.  So I did.

Wait: one more small victory.  Yay me.

 

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The Paperwork! and the process…

Everyone who knows anyone who has adopted, or gone through the process, knows about the PAPERWORK!

paperworkOur children know.  The UPS guy knows.  Dr Ulland knows.  His administrators know.  So does the nurse, the man who answers the phones and the other lady who answers the other phones.  Oh and the nice man who notarized our papers a few times when we had to redo certain docs due to our … ignorance.

 

Some people say they are “paper pregnant.”  Others simply say it’s really like a long pregnancy.  Or just simply that it is a long wait.

I’m not sure yet how to talk about the time.  January of 2012 was when we decided to pursue this.  A fellow campus minster shared her testimony at our MOPS meeting.  I just knew we were soon to have an adoption story.

I had almost convinced Brian after Calista was 15 months old that we should adopt and we might even afford it!  Then Elam came along, we moved to Duluth and started praying about how to serve more outside of ourselves.  Brian said, we are getting comfortable.  I don’t think we are supposed to be comfortable and follow Jesus.  So why not just adopt a special needs kid from a foreign country!  YES!

Our church has been an amazing support: financial yes, but more so friendship.  There is a real culture of adoption at Lakeview.  There are families with both homemade kids (I learned that from an adoptee used that term in her family) and adopted.  There are some who adopted in order to build their family.  There are foster families and parents.

And there are real, live, Chinese people!  There is a Chinese Fellowship that meets weekly at our church.  We have also been blessed to have dear friends who are from Malaysia and Singapore.

We are currently so close to traveling it hurts. Writing about the process is helping me wait.  (So does meal planning, shopping, organizing and taking every minute to enjoy my 2 kids this spring.)

It is also good to look back and find numerous reasons to be grateful for this long wait.

turtle1.  Elam has just gone through a season of tantrums.  They seem to be ending…  WE HOPE!  He is everyone’s friend and a real servant.  He needs a hug every 5 minutes and loves becoming a Ninja Turtle in a moment.  He has a killer memory and beats me at most games with said memory.

Calistadisney2.  Calista is almost through her first year of school and LOVES it.  She is already talking about becoming a 1st grader.  YIKES.  Her teacher has been amazing and she loves to teach and read and be a friend and sing, LET IT GO.  Especially in the bathroom, the bathtub, long hallways, outside, in her room… basically anywhere.

3.  Today, a friend at the Y asked me about something I said the other day.  I had said we are expecting our third.  She looked at me, “are you pregnant?” in a hushed whisper.  “Nope.  Adopting.  Want to see his picture?”  Instantly tears filled her eyes.  She asked questions and then had to answer the phone.  I love talking about our son and sharing the joy!

What is it about adopting that moves people so?  Perhaps it’s the respect for the wait.  We don’t wait well in this part of the world.  In fact we spend a lot of time and money avoiding it.

(And as I type, I’m realizing 2.5 years is how long I had to wait to be with Brian.  That’s turned out pretty ok.)

I don’t fully understand what all I need to learn in the waiting and how to do it well but am so grateful for the long road trip to try to learn.

 

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Living in Cloud Cuckoo Land

Do you ever feel like you’ve followed the instructions and it still doesn’t work?  I have tried to become a master bread-baker the last 7 months.  I am getting pretty good (thanks Kelley and Rebekah).  But this weekend, I tried homemade pizza dough.  Guess what?  It didn’t rise.  Boo.

It makes me think of how my girlfriends and I have talked about our faith lately.  We read a book.  Get some ideas.  Feel like, “this is the way to do it!”  Try.  Fail.  Cry.  Give up.

The more I reflect on said failure, the more I want to become a Master Builder and create a new solution.  Hopefully I don’t step on too many toes when I say the following, but I can always claim residence in Cloud Cuckoo Land.

I chose to intentionally follow Jesus when I was a sophomore at Hamline in 1996.  I read books on godly ways to date back then by the brilliant Elisabeth Elliot.  When I walked into my 20’s, I read books about how to be a godly single woman.  Many of my male friends were reading how to be a real, godly man.  Now that I’m a parent, I can choose from books about how to pray like a real, godly mom.  I can read about how to raise my boy the way God wants me to.  That doesn’t even scratch the surface of all the books about how to witness, serve, fight injustice and even cook according to the Bible.

What I notice is that most of these “how-to” books are similar the Lego Movie’s portrayal as instructions.  When we try so hard to follow “that” example, it leads to bondage.  We focus so much on doing it right we forget everything else.  And I’ll also be bold enough to say simply following the instructions is easier.  Yes, I said easy.  My 6-year old can follow them and build a castle, car or school house.

I think the solution is not necessarily found in Cloud Cuckoo Land, where everyone makes their own rules, unable to be a teammate because they are stuck on their own originality.  I’m not into universalism.  We see the failure of that in the movie and in our culture.

But nor is it found in just obeying the rules.  Jesus had some things to say to people who were into following the instructions of His day.

Instead, Jesus offers us Himself.  The Creator of the clouds, cuckoos like you and me, our sons and our wheat.  He really wants to talk with us and have us listen.

When Brian and I have been filling out adoption paperwork and grant requests, we often have to answer questions about our philosophy on parenting.  We share that our job is to teach our kids to listen for God’s voice and then pray they obey.

The other day Calista cheated in Candyland (she snuck the Princess and Lolly, the best cards, on the top of the pile).  I talked with her about how sometimes we feel that voice inside or just a general feeling of, “I shouldn’t do this…”  I believe that’s God speaking to us.

Sometimes it’s a loud voice, like your kids screaming for attention while you’re playing on your phone.  Sometimes it’s quiet, in the middle of the night, keeping you up.  Sometimes it comes from reading the Bible.  Watching a sunset.  Listening to your friends.  Or watching a movie.

The trick is listening.  How do you listen well?

 

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Everything that kills me…

The other day I was pounding out my miles on the treadmill at the Y.  I have started to listen to “popular music” while working out because, no disrespect, but I just cannot seem to find the right Christian music to kick my butt into sweat mode.

I had to admit some of the songs brought me to “unholy” places and I started to wonder at my discernment.  Then the “unholy” music brought me to a holy moment.

There are sometimes songs that just stick with you, right?  (Ask Calista.  She’s been bitten by the Frozen bug and just won’t “let it go…” if you know what I mean.)  Well there is one song out there “Counting Stars” by OneRepublic.

If you want a head trip, watch their video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT_nvWreIhg

or read lyrics here: http://www.directlyrics.com/onerepublic-counting-stars-lyrics.html

As I ran singing to the music, “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive,” I wondered if I believed that!  It seems the song (and the video appears to allude to this) mocks those of us who truly want to follow the rules because it is better for us.

So then I turned OneRepublic on its head.  The song could lead me to believe that my obeying God will actually kill my independence.  Instead, I’d like to say to the world that submits to that way of thinking: no way.

Everything that the world tells me will kill me might actually empower this lady.  What happens if I refuse to listen to the voice that says quit at mile 3?  If I refuse to submit to those who say I must buy new jeans?  If I say SHUT UP to those who say we have the perfect family of 4, 1 girl and 1 boy, and that DisneyWorld doesn’t do packages for 5?

There are a few choices lately that feel like they are going to kill me.  No work outside the house, putting off home improvements and that small thing of adopting our Asker in China.  Entering into the pain of orphanages, foreign policies regarding special needs infants and imagining awful abuses can leave me breathless.

But really, when we choose the things that kill us, doesn’t it make us feel alive?  Like we are exactly where we are supposed to be?

Seems like Someone Else, fairly famous, said something along the same lines – (no not OneRepublic.)  Jesus, “Whoever loses their life for My sake will find it.”

The question really is why are we choosing what we choose.  Is it for ourselves?

Or is it for Jesus’ sake?

 

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2 shoes. 4 weeks. 6 thoughts.

“Two shoes, Mom?”  Calista said this 2-3 times before I simply had to ask, “What are you talking about?”

I had picked her up from the bus, on my own two feet, with two shoes.  Nothing special, right?  But for this girl, today it was!  I was no longer limping with an air cast or on crutches, or driving (embarrassingly) down 1/2 of a block to pick up my kid.

Two shoes.  Doing my own grocery shopping.  Not freezing a foot 10 out of 24 hours with icing.  Simple things.  I learned that Calista knows how to count by 2’s this week so here goes a list inspired by her and the last month’s events, for which I am grateful.

#1  Putting on your two shoes, one at a time, can really be a highlight of the day!  (There are a few single shoes and slippers I had to really hunt down after not wearing both for a month!)  I am grateful for walking in two shoes without a limp and losing that permanent cramp in my good leg’s hamstring.

swim#2  I can swim!  Like really swim, with goggles, a suit that fits me (all this time, I’ve been buying them too big!), a swim cap and even learned what is a pull buoy and how to use one!  I had to ask Elam’s swim teacher a few times how to breathe correctly doing the crawl but I’m getting the hang of it.

 

#3  I like to swim laps.  Especially when I have things to count (like 6 things to blog about) and prayer to say.  I have had to figure out ways to keep track of the laps.  Like using my flips, pull buoy or tricks about the Trinity, how many kids I have and how many we hope to have (which is 3, just so you know).

#4  I can pray well underwater.  A dear friend was diagnosed with breast cancer the same week I wrecked my ankle.  I didn’t know for a week.  Just when she told me, I was getting depressed about how much my ankle hurt still and wasn’t getting better.  Whine whine.  Then I heard the news.  Perspective changer?  Yep.

It has been amazing to be part of the community at the Y caring for her, feeding her family and encouraging her as she continues going to class, running on the treadmill and facing it like the warrior she is.

#5  Adoption note:  I was doing my laps last week, and thought of how to tell people in a different way that we “are in the process of adoption.”  People get how long it takes, but here’s a way I have said it lately: I am 23 months along in the adoption.  It will be 2 years in January.  Thank God I haven’t been gaining weight that whole time!

#6  I’ll admit at first I panicked.  How was I going to survive without going to the Y everyday?  How would I know how much/little to eat so I didn’t gain 30 lbs while I (mostly) laid around reading Harry Potter?!  Especially since Christmas came early to me and my parents gave me a KitchenAid!?  (don’t think of it as a mixer; consider it loaves of homemade bread, brownies and cookies!)

Now after 4 weeks and learning a new routine, I feel less bound to exercise, analyzing my eating habits and rushing schedule.  Elam sometimes needs a nap.  Sometimes I do!  Sometimes I eat brownies as a dessert after breakfast.  The gym can wait.

Two friends at church have asked me as they watched my sprain, Elam getting sick & me getting a cough, “Do you think God is trying to teach you something?”  Do you think?!

The answer is yes.  I hope I am listening.

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Biff

You know those moments you’re thinking, something is not right and the next thing you know you’re on your butt scooting off the gym floor with a sprained ankle?

I had been bopping around on a bosu (see picture: not me but maybe could be?) working out at the Y.  Been taking the class for a while and although I had my new NB shoes that had every color of the 90’s fluorescent rainbow, I was feeling a bit unsteady.  Maybe I should retie my shoes.  Maybe I should scoot over to the left.  Maybe I’m tired from yesterday…

Then blam.  Down I go.  Grabbed the ankle, scooted off the floor and proceeded to attempt to hold back the tears that make us all feel like babies (ok maybe not you, but me).  Two friends helped me down the elevator and although we were sweaty (thankfully, I had gotten 20 minutes in!) and my armpits were fully visible and smellable, I made it to the first floor.  Ice pack ensued.  Injury report made.

Elam unfortunately saw my departure from the elevator and was upset.  The great Kids Club staff brought him to me and he helped out from that moment until now.  Another Y member ran up the 6 flights of stairs to get my van and brought it to the front door.  Such service! (love the Y.  miss the Y…)

So, 5 days later, I’m forced to lay low.  Brian is doing everything.  I am trying to do nothing.  It is very counter-intuitive.  Do nothing.  Think about that sentence.  Do.  Nothing.  Sure thing.  I’ll work on waking up tomorrow with straight hair.

The good news is I can drive.  I can walk a bit (crutches.  ICK.)  No one died.  The kids are amazing helpers.  We live in leftover-ville and many of those frozen crock pot meals await.

While I do nothing, I find it ironic as I continue in my Daniel study.  We were to memorize this winner: “those who walk in pride He is able to humble.”

God did not sprain my ankle.  But I do experience so much more humility as people open the door for me, Brian heads out to the grocery shopping and I do one-legged squats to use the toilet.  And as I watch my ankle turn some of those fluorescent colors that stare me down on my new shoes.  (New shoes that now sit unused.  Brian reminded me this way they’ll last longer!)

Maybe I’ll blog more while I do nothing.  We did finish a grant application and (hopefully) our last set of papers for the adoption this week.

Any movie suggestions, crochet lessons or book recommendations would be appreciated upon your reading this:)  Meanwhile, I’ll just sit here and work hard on doing nothing.

 

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I like to eat…

I like to eat.  A lot. Brian is the same way.  His favorite food: food.  And with an almost 6 year old and an almost 4 year old, we are constantly snacking, prepping or cleaning up from a meal.

Enter my genius, responsible, frugal and efficient friend, Rebekah Johnson.  She came across this website that showed how to prep and assemble frozen meals for the crock pot.  We decided to try it and this is what happened.  This is not super funny but is a tedious explanation of said 6-hour method.  (After a lot of FB hits, I thought writing it out would help some of you get over it and try something like this too!  Or keep doing what you are doing and don’t freak out, thinking we are super moms.  Just crazy enough to try this stuff!)

1.  We and our husbands set aside a Friday night for a trial run.  Our husbands are very involved, helpful PARENTS.  (So Rebekah’s husband made homemade pizza (homemade dough even!) and the 4 kids and 2 men had a fun night playing while we did the cooking.)

2. We planned ahead.  Rebekah organized recipes as we looked up various websites (see bottom of this for the sites).  We decided to do 8 recipes, doubling some and only doing single amounts of some.  Rebekah even organized a shopping list.

3. We shopped or gathered what ingredients were in the cabinet.food

4.  We started chopping, prepping, cooking and cleaning the fresh veggies and meat.  This is what my kitchen looked like!

 

5.  We sat down to eat dinner and chatted for a bit:)  Doing this whole thing alone, we decided, would have left us bitter, tired and with aching feet.  Doing this with a friend that you can cook with (!) was amazing.

6.  We kept chopping (14 onions and 18 carrots take some time people!).  We noticed we had similar kitchen habits.  We have our “things” – Rebekah does organic milk aRebekahcrockpotnd I do fair trade chocolate.  But we also are super flexible and not germ-a-phobs in the kitchen.  (I won’t say our habits b/c I don’t want a bunch of flak!)  We also noted that we both like to clean as we go, instead of leaving a huge mess at the end.  Doing this whole thing with someone who has completely opposite habits in the kitchen might have been a huge bummer.  We managed to stay sane, friends and have fun during the whole thing.  Proof of friendship: smiles.

Washing dishes as we went was key as I ran out of big bowls for the chopped veggies.  We also kept using measuring spoons and cups so cleaning and drying them became super important.*  Rebekah also took the time with her snazzy handwriting to write the name of the recipe, any further instructions and notes on the Ziploc bags with a Sharpie.

7.  We began to assemble once all the prep work was done.  Rebekah had heard to put the ziploc baggies with folded out edges inside of big pitchers.  This worked for the most part until the pitchers couldn’t handle all ingredients.  So we started to hold them or they could stand alone.  There was no rhyme or reason to the order of ingredients in the bag.  Big stuff first, spices and then liquids was the general rule.  We also set aside the “to be added later” canned goods with the recipe name written on them for the pantry.

8.  We loaded up the bags in our freezers in a semi-flat order.  Make sure you have the room in that freezer!  We did have to double bag a few of them.

The whole night was over around 11 but that was after a treat and come conversation with Brian and Rebekah after the kids finally fell asleep.  We processed the … process and hoped none of the recipes will turn out to be too bland!

Success!  About 20 meals for under $150, give or take because of so many ingredients on hand (honey, olive oil, spices, etc).

Now, which one will we eat first?!?!

*If we do this again, we will make sure to have more measuring utensils!  And extra big bowls.—————————————–

Here are our recipes, shopping list and websites we used.

MealsEnMasse.pdf

 

 

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False Start

Well we did it!  Calista made it through her first day of kindergarten, despite my attempts to send her to middle or high school.

ready!

 

 

 

It was a chilly 50 degrees, hence the greeting (unprompted) by Elam in this video.

 

Calista was a rock star with getting dressed, doing her hair and even eating breakfast at a slightly increased pace from her regular, sloth-impersonating methods.

Elam was very sad about her leaving.  So at breakfast, he slid his chair closer.  I caught them doing “we are the church” with their fingers.  Perhaps Elam needed some ecclesiology lessons to help him navigate his new status as an only child.

 

Well we hit the road in the stroller, Elam bundled and Calista still smiling.  The bus suddenly passed me and I still had a block to go.  I ran to beat all foot races and Calista catapulted out of the stroller like it was her job.  As she waited for the first 2 elementary students to board, I noticed the sign on the side was for the middle and high school in town.  DUH.  Wrong bus.

False start.  Number 76.  5 yards.  Second down.

Waiting for a bus in 50 degrees is no fun.  Especially when I didn’t wear gloves and was pushing a jogger.

Eventually the real, right bus arrived.  Calista was excited, introduced herself to the bus driver (who still, after 3 attempts, thinks her name is Calissa) and sat her little self down.

bus3

bus2

 

 

 

 

You might be asking, where are the normal, professional-grade photos we are used to?  Well, unfortunately the Photographer is out of town.  He was with us the entire time, on speaker phone.  Perhaps it was the false start, the 50 degree weather (did I mention it was cold today?) and the absence of my wing man (ie. Brian) that I almost missed capturing said moments.

They say “it all goes so fast” – the time they are babies until school and then college, weddings, doing their own taxes and hopefully one day remembering to turn off the bathroom lights.  Well, I don’t know about that.  But from my pictures it seems she was flying so fast I couldn’t get her in focus!

The day wasn’t long enough for Calista.  She got off the bus and immediately said she wanted to go back to kindergarten!

It was too long for Elam, by the way.  He was asking at 11 if it was time for Calista to come home:)

 

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