gratitude

Gratitude is a powerful force.

It has the power to overcome other forces at play in our lives the way that nothing else can. Gratitude fights anger in our lives. It counteracts discontent. It redirects self-pity. It offers perspective on relational issues. It staves off loneliness. It transforms negative thoughts. It challenges anxiety. 

Gratitude, and not our circumstances, is the difference between a good day and a bad day. For it is a thankful heart that alters our perspective.

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in Him, 

rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with gratitude. See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, 

which depends on human tradition and the elementary principles of this world rather than on Christ."

Colossians 2:6-8

How appropriate it is that the human tradition of focusing on what irks us, angers us, frustrates us and on what we do not have is called "hollow and deceptive philosophy". An "elementary principle of the world". Gratitude focuses on Christ.

I know that the Thanksgiving holiday is only celebrated in North America, and historically has nothing to do with the birth of Jesus Christ. But for me, Thanksgiving is the beginning of Advent. A whole holiday weekend centered around thankfulness is a wonderful invitation to cultivate a heart overflowing with gratitude,... right before we enter chaotic December and all of the holiday extras. With a heart full of thanks it is hard to feel as bogged down by the schedules and lists and stresses of the season.

May gratitude be the most powerful force at work in your life this season of Advent!

With faces like these around, what is there not to be thankful for?!

welcome

Welcome to the new blog address!  www.achildseyesblog.blogspot.com

It is strange to change the web address after all these years, but the change had largely to do with taking our last name out of the blog address. The internet has completely altered our concept of privacy, and though I don't entirely understand why, it felt like the right thing and right time to make a change. This is the same exact blog, minus a few posts also edited out for those privacy reasons mentioned above.

Because I am trying new things right now, and because you made the move over here, I am going to host my very first give-away! Truth be told, it makes me nervous. It feels like peeling a piece of me right off the page and sending it tangibly into your living room. Wait - that is exactly what it is. No wonder I feel nervous.

In my last post I mentioned that it took me all summer to hang some picture frames in my hallway. One reason it took so long is that the frames were all salvaged from a box in the barn which held outdated photos and frames from the last two decades of our lives. Going through the box was a project all on its own, including the eviction of a large black widow. The real investment of time was spent updating the mostly wooden and metallic silver frames with white chalk paint. Chalk paint will adhere to any surface, and if you are interested you can read my novice opinion about chalk paint here. Once painted, I sanded the frames down for a weathered look. It became a therapeutic project that I worked on in the backyard while my children self-entertained around me. Which essentially means that I had chunks of around five minutes at a time before being interupted, sometimes not picking up again until a day or two later.

The hallway did finally came together.

Out of all of this came the item I would like to give away. On a prayerful afternoon, with contemplation in my heart, I painted the word JOY into a piece of burlap, destined to fill one of the salvaged frames. As I painted, I prayed. I prayed that joy would fill my own heart as I faced a monotonous afternoon, rounding the corner into that cranky dinner hour. I prayed for joy in managing the current difficulties of the life season we are in, disciplining irksome stages in children, pressing forward in love for broken people. I prayed for joy in the repetition of this job that I do with endless dishes and mouths that need feeding and laundry going in or coming out and the repetition of my requests to small people to say please and thank you and share and pick up. There must be joy found in all the pieces of our lives, or discontent will consume us.

And I prayed for that same kind of joy in the heart of whoever takes this home. Know this item has had blessings prayed over it. May JOY be yours in its fullest form.

GIVE-AWAY item
5x7 size

To enter for this give-away:  all you need to do is LEAVE ME A COMMENT below so that I know you have the new web address!

• If you don't want to leave a public comment, you may email me or facebook message me instead.
• If you don't have a google id you can leave an "Anonymous" comment, but please include your name so I know who you are!
• You have until the Sunday after Thanksgiving to enter (November 29). The winner will be drawn raffle style in a fair and impartial way.

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GIVE-AWAY IS NOW CLOSED. 

The winner is Emily! Congratulations, you can see the official announcement here. 

Thank you to all who participated!

(Updated 12/1/2014)

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Also, please update your saved pages, bookmarks, and/or "Follow" this blog publicly or via email using the feeds on the sidebar (over to the right). It is also on bloglovin.

Let me use this as an opportunity to say thank you to those of you who read along and find joy sharing in the journey of our family and our faith.

Many blessings,
Ashley

hobbies

As a child I remember wondering what was so special about the Family Circus cartoon. Now I am all grown up and I get it. They are not so much funny as they are true, thus laughable.

This one tickled me a familiar place where I sighed when I read it and thought: Yes. That is how I feel. 

Once, I had hobbies. I just can't remember what they are at the moment. Laundry and dishes hardly count. It took me all summer long to hang some picture frames in my hallway. No exaggeration. Some weeks I literally hammered in one single nail.

Hobbies are the activities I would choose to do during all of my free time, as an outlet for creativity. I dream of having an afternoon alone when I will, undoubtedly, complete the mile long list of crafty fun and sewing ideas and house projects that float around in my brain while sorting toys and sweeping.

The truth is that I spend too much of my thought life thinking about the activities I am not doing, or am not able to do. My days are spent doing a number of things. They are full of the activities that have been entrusted to me by God. The vast majority of them actually do utilize my creativity. Telling bedtime stories. Reading books. Coming up with breakfast and dinner and the many meals in between. Reorganizing our home over and over again. Tickling and telling jokes. Convincing little people it will be fun if we get out the vacuum cleaner. Incorporating everyone's ideas. Teaching children valuable life lessons over broken toys.

These are not the activities I envision bringing my soul satisfaction. But they are the activities entrusted to me by God, first and foremost above my desire to hang pictures on the wall, or re-paint the bathroom, or add another post to this blog. Because they are from God, they can satisfy me as hobbies of a different nature never will.

It is good for me to remember that my future may hold the luxury of time to pursue hobbies, but even if it doesn't, I am glad I have a family to take care of. A life without them might be full of hobbies but empty of all the other things that bring me joy.

Praise the Lord, O my soul,... who satisfies your desires with good things 

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. 

Psalm 103:5

let me tell you about apples

About a year ago we purchased the apple orchard next door. It was in rough shape, weeds growing where trees once were, old and tall varieties that pickers don't want to climb for the harvest. We were one of few obvious buyers as the dilapidated property bordered ours.

These ancient trees were gnarled and beautiful and they drew us in. An apple legacy to leave to our children one day. I have learned a lot about apples this year.

We have just completed our first harvest. Our trees laden with fruit. Sweet, crisp, juicy, delicious.

Growing them has ruined me for store-bought apples. There is something unnatural about all of the perfection in the grocery store, waxed shiny outside, unremarkable inside. Pick an apple from our trees and you will most likely pick a worm too. Or a bird peck or a blemish or an apple deemed imperfect. They are dull in luster without the added wax. But I have heard that the birds and worms know how to find the sweetest ones.

As a culture, we have said that fruit must be perfect looking for it to be purchased. Is it possible that in our focus on perfection we have missed out on something better?

Apples aren't the only victims of our visual culture. It happens with people too. I think the people with bumps and bruises on the outside are often sweeter on the inside. It is our wormholes that distinguish us. I could say that you can't judge a book by its cover, but that is actually not my point. You see, I do think the cover matters. It is just what we are looking for in the cover that needs to be adjusted. Perhaps if the value was placed on the actual blemish then people would expose their wounds. After all, it is these life experiences that can grow a person to be gentle, humble, compassionate, and ultimately sweeter with time.

My buying habits have changed of late. I like a piece of fruit that has character, a distinguishing mark, a rough spot, a chip in its covering that lets the delicious odor seep through. This is how I know the fruit has seen the sunlight and felt the rain and withstood the bugs and how I know it hasn't been genetically manufactured in a warehouse. I don't mind a bruise here and there if it means a good story and a certain readiness.

Choosing fruit or choosing friends, what exactly do we value?

A few odd facts:

... The worms in an apple go straight for the core. If you cut out the hole, and don't eat the core, the rest of the apple is perfect!  And often more delicious than the apples without worms.

... An apple a day keeps the constipation at bay, if you really wanted to know.  It is actually my personal theory that this is the origin of the belief that apples kept the doctor away. In the absence of modern medicine, the ancients were obsessed with staying regular as a indication of overall health.

... Apples make great natural toothbrushes. Feeling scummy? Skip the Wrigley's and eat an apple. 

... There are a lot more varieties than just "Red" and "Green". On our property we have Pippin, Red Delicious, Granny Smith, Honey Crisp, Fuji, Yellow Delicious, and Gala apples and have recently planted some experimental varieties with pink flesh like Pink Ladies.

birthday week: karsten

My baby is ONE!

He has begun the final process of exiting babyhood, entering into boyhood. While I am looking forward to increased sleep at nights and having both arms free to carry things other than my children, I am sad to see the chubby cozy baby stage passing by with such permanence. These days will soon be but a memory. And just like those old people keep telling me in the grocery store, they have gone by so fast. Sigh.

Alas, on to birthday wishes and the last of the September craziness...

Dearest Baby Karsten,

No one loves me like my babies do. Which may be one of the reasons I am so sad to see you grow. You have already stopped looking at me with hungry eyes, and find it more fun to chase your sisters than snuggle me on the couch.

Your personality is emerging, though yet to be developed. You are growing into an active little boy, and quite the "explorer". You won't rest until you investigate all things new in your surroundings. While this makes it difficult for me to have a conversation with anyone, or complete any task outside of shadowing you, I wouldn't have it any other way. All of this curiosity is part of using the brain and the intelligence God gave you - and I sure hope that brain keeps you from sticking your fingers in an outlet.

Along with learning to crawl, you began to teach us about materialism. You quickly established yourself as the reason that our laptop computer is acting strangely and the reason our DVD player is broken and the reason my Bible is missing some pages in the front. You are the reason my trash cans are currently being kept on top of the furniture and the reason our living room is a giant playpen surrounded by baby gates. Oddly, this is not the way I pictured motherhood, but it is turning out to be just fine, because none of these material things matter.

In typical male fashion, you love all things food. This is possibly one reason you have loved me so very much, as I have been the bearer of all meals this entire year. When in doubt, eating seems to solve all of your problems. We hope to make you more selective this coming year, keeping the acorns and cat poop out of your mouth while encouraging such delicacies as broccoli and brussel sprouts.

As the fifth member of our family, you have brought a balance to our dynamics. Now there is nothing that can be divided equally, so we have stopped trying. This offers a certain health to our family unit as we have quit being "fair" and embrace the sharing and servitude that God intended for us all along. Thank you for being one more piece in that puzzle.

We pray every day that you will grow into a man who follows after God with your whole heart. A man who is a humble leader, and wise decision maker. In a world that is experiencing a crisis of men who fail to behave as men, there is no greater gift I could ask for you.

With all my love on your first birthday,
Momma

Your cake might not have been as cute as the girls' this year, but it was the best tasting... which you would have known if you had eaten the cake instead of the candle.

All you wanted for your birthday was a ride on something noisy.

Nothing could have been better than a ride on Papa's tractor and a ride on an excavator!

birthday week: sommer

One of the things that makes turning three special is that Sommer can finally hold up all three fingers to show us how old she is. The problem is that she keeps telling us she is five, so we still have something to work on.

Dearest Sommy-som, Sommy-num, Sommer sunshine, Som-Som,

I really do want to put you in a bottle and freeze you in time. Your squishy squeezy babyish body can not hold all the personality in and it is always exploding all over the place, much to everyone's delight. You are charming and funny and kind and imaginative and silly and snuggly and creative and smart and very very talkative, when you are not low on blood sugar of course.

I love your voice right now. Your vocabulary is impressive despite the lack of Ss and Rs and Ls and you manage to say quite a bit without these extraneous letters. You pretend to read everything, and you surely have every word in your favorite books memorized. You are an excellent story teller and I am never quite sure if it is the story that has fascinated me or the listening to you and the inflection of your voice.

I love your spunk. I never worry that another child will bully you because you understand well the art of defending yourself. We will tame this over time to become more gentle and fully appropriate, but you clearly understand your personal boundaries. You say what you think, so we never have to wonder. This means we get to hear lots of spontaneous "I love you"s. This also means we never doubt when or why you are upset.

I love hearing you sing. You sing everything and everywhere. Some of your favorites are "Raindrops on Roses" and "Jesus Loves Me". You do a pretty good job with "Part of That World" from The Little Mermaid too. You have a song for all occasions. You sing while you play pretend and your animals often sing to each other. You even tell made up "story-songs". You carry a beautiful tune. But most importantly, there is a song in your heart. May it always remain.

At three years old you already have a clear sense of conscience, forgiveness, and God's ever-present love. You are even quick to remind me when I am hurting: "But, Momma, God loves you."  What could possibly comfort me more?

I love you deeply. May three years old be a wondrous, magical year full of good things and growth in all the right ways.

Love, Momma

birthday week: annike

That's right, it's birthday week. My three children are 5 years apart, and somehow all three birthdays are within 9 days of each other. People always want to know how that happened. Well, go ask your mother how it happened. All I know is that it makes for an exceptionally busy September. We bake and decorate a lot of cakes, sing a lot of "Happy Birthday"s, and celebrate a lot of little people. By the end of September, it seems like we have had way more than three birthdays.

Even though it is busy, I don't want to miss the opportunity to celebrate each child individually. Each child get his or her own cake. And each child get her or his own blog post. Without further ado, happy birthday to the sweet girl who made me a Momma only six years ago.

Dearest Annike,

You are a sweet, tender-hearted child with a wonderful sense of integrity. You know how to be both silly and serious, and you find great joy in the little things that life brings. I am sad that you are growing because you seem just perfect the way you are. There are so many things I love about you at this moment in time, I want to freeze them in my memory. The good news is that each year of life with you seem to be more fun than the last.

I love that your favorite color is blue instead of pink. That you would rather watch a nature show than a cartoon. That you accessorize with animal ears and tails and think that clothing made in cheetah print is the best. That you would rather play outside than inside and aren't afraid to get dirty. That you love animals, but aren't sad when they die. That you choose to eat an apple over pizza. I love that you want to hear stories about me and Papa when we were little, especially if there are animals in the story.

I love that you get excited about aquariums and museums and going to the library and visiting your grandparents. I love that you know the names of more fish than I do, and some of your favorite books are fish and bird reference books. I love your adorable drawings of animals. I also love that you are kind to me when I attempt to draw animals and you can't recognize them.

I love that you know how to share the joy of others and rarely feel in competition with friends. That you freely offer encouragement to your little sister when she tries something new or hard. That you worry about me being lonely, which seems like something that could never actually happen in the next decade of my life.

I love that I know you are always telling me the truth, because you don't feel right if you aren't telling the truth, unless you have your "stinker face" on and then I know you are trying to trick me. I love that Jesus is in your heart and you find His ways both mysterious and exciting.

Being six will be full of joy because you are full of life and adventure. I love you so much!

Love, Momma