...For my soul.

Today was our first real day of Fall.

I know, I know. Fall arrived 6 days ago. For some reason though, mother nature is not cooperating with the dates on the calendar that is hanging on my refrigerator. It has been unusually warm here, making me wonder if I accidentally bought my calendar in the section of the store labeled 'slightly irregular', because things just don't seem to be matching up.

I'm just saying...it wouldn't be the first time.

Irregular calendar or not, I knew that the crisp days of fall would eventually arrive and along with it would come the longing for those Indian summer days. But Fall was far from my thoughts last night as I lay in bed thinking about how much fun we had with Isaiah and Caleb earlier in the evening, playing at the park and running across the soccer fields; the warm breeze blowing gently in our faces. I fell asleep feeling very content, but should have known that Fall was on the horizon.

It arrived at exactly 5:32 a.m., when our bedroom door slowly creaked open and I heard Caleb, with a very weak voice, say "mom, my head hurts", and then he coughed the cough of a sick child. In an effort to attend to Caleb, I quickly sat up and strained to open my eyes, but as soon as I threw off the covers I was struck by the chill in the air and could not respond.

After a few seconds of gathering myself, I sent Caleb back to bed with the promise that I would be there in a few minutes. As I lay in bed trying to figure out what just happened, it suddenly occurred to me:

Cold air...

Sick kids...

Cravings for chicken noodle soup...

Fall has arrived.

Just like that, the cool air refreshed me, and I climbed out of bed feeling strangely excited about spending a quiet day with my sick child.

Caleb spent most of the day sleeping on the couch, and I spent the day doing laundry and cleaning the house. This afternoon as the wind blew cold outside, and Caleb was laying his head on my shoulder, I smelled the homemade chicken noodle soup that was slowly simmering, and it made my soul smile.

My six year old son, Isaiah, loves to collect random things. Not just any random things either, but the things that are only seen as valuable in the eyes of little boys. Things like: peanut shells, strings, old pens, beads, screws, washers, shotgun shells, bubble gum wrappers, bottle tops, broken rubber bands and shower curtain hangers, just to name a few. I am not even going to make mention of the chunks of metal, plastic and pokey things that have been brought home, because I am not sure what they were in their original form, and therefore, are not worth my time.

He finds these random things while playing outside, puts them in his pockets, and calls them treasures.

I find them at the bottom of my washing machine, get slightly irritated, and call them junk.

Case in point:



As I was transferring clothes into our dryer the other day, I kept hearing the various tinks, clinks and clangs, as this random stuff, dislodged by the shifting clothes, fell to the bottom of the wash basin. With a half sigh, half smile, I started fishing out all the treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - and placed it on top of the dryer.

As I was folding clothes a few minutes later, I couldn't help but wonder if that s-shaped thingamajig that I found at the bottom of my washing machine, was the source for the tiny little holes I found in one of my shirts.

And then I thought that the following verse would be very appropriate for this situation:

Matthew 6:19-20
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.

But I think I am going to change a few words to this verse and have Isaiah read it over and over, until it has become so ingrained that he thinks twice before sticking things in his pockets.

Matthew 6:19-20
Do not store up for yourselves treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - on earth, where s-shaped thingamajigs break apart and tear up. But store up for yourselves treasures/junk - depending on how you look at it - in heaven, where s-shaped thingamajigs do not break apart and tear up.

Amen. And Amen.

Can someone please help me out here? It seems that I am missing a very important piece of paper. A memo of sorts.

This memo is all about proper superhero etiquette, and it says things like:

Superhero's...
Only wear tight fitting suits



Superhero's
Should always pay attention to the dangers that lay before them...not behind



And superhero's
Should never use the neighbors Christmas decorations as a lance




Unfortunately this superhero didn't get that memo, but please, oh please, don't tell him that. I fear it would take away his superhero confidence.

...and canned them.



Here's the recipe for Pickled Jalapeno Peppers:

Yield: roughly 6 pint sized jars.

* Wash and slice roughly 2 1/2 - 3 pounds of jalapeno peppers.



* Pack peppers tightly into sterilized jars, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace. (We used pint sized jars, but jelly jars work well too).

* In a large saucepan, add:
4 Cups Vinegar
1 Cup Water
1 Cup Olive Oil
4 Teaspoons Salt
4 Teaspoons Pickling Spices



* Bring mixture to a boil, and then pour into jars using a canning funnel, making sure to leave 1/2 inch of headspace.

* Wipe rims of jars with a clean, damp cloth. Then top jars with sanitized lids and tighten with screw bands.

* Process in boiling water bath canner for 10 minutes.

"True wisdom knows when to speak and when to stay silent."

These words were spoken in my bible study class the other day, and I can't help but be amazed at how true those simple words are.

It's a great piece of advice, and one that I often to overlook. But the truth is, I have a tendency to want to fix things for people; to make things right. Maybe it's because I'm a mother, and a nurturer by nature, but I also think that the bigger part of it is because I have this sickness that I like refer to as middle child syndrome.

I can't help it. I have this innate drive to make sure that all the people around me are happy, comfortable and most importantly, getting along. There is no situation more uncomfortable or stressful for a sufferer of middle child syndrome than to be around a group of people who do not get along, and don't care to try.

My illness goes farther than that though. You see, I have two children that have a tendency to argue. I know, this is common, siblings fight - I get it - but for someone like me, who thrives on peace and harmony, it really cramps my style. So in an effort to keep my style, and mood, cramp free, I prefer to stop a fight long before it starts.

Now to get to the wisdom part of my post...

Did I ever tell you about Adam...my husband?

He's a very mellow man. So mellow, in fact, that I like to push his buttons - you know, throw in a little bit of attitude - every once in a while, just to make sure he's still alive. I love that about him...he's very consistent. But on top of that, he's wise. He knows when to speak and when to stay quiet, when to be stern and when to let things go. He fully understands that some lessons are best learned when you keep your mouth shut.

This is one of those lessons:

Two nights ago, Isaiah and Caleb were taking a bath. They were laughing and splashing and having a great time, and then suddenly it got very quiet and Adam heard Caleb say, "hey Isaiah, close your eyes. I promise that it's just water on your head." When Adam looked in on what was happening, he saw Caleb standing over Isaiah in a very suspicious pose, as though he was getting ready to pee.

Naturally, Adam chose to keep his mouth shut, opting instead, to let the situation play its course. And it played it's course all right. Not only was it a good lesson for Isaiah, but I also like to consider it a great wisdom builder as well.

So I will say it again:
True wisdom knows when to speak, and when to stay silent.

When I graduated from high school, my dad and step mom gave me a very popular graduation book called Oh the Places You'll Go! By Dr. Seuss. Maybe you've read it, maybe you haven't, but it's a book that the boys and I enjoy reading on a regular basis.

It's a great representation of life and the choices we make; from the times we are soaring high and everything seems to come easily, to the times when we are stumbling through the darkness, unsure of what lays before us.

While contemplating this strange place that life has me in right now, I couldn't help but be reminded of a similar place in the book called The Waiting Place. Here's an excerpt.

...You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

What a testimony to our life right now. Adam and I have spent the last 15 months waiting for that one, all important phone call, telling us that a little girl has been picked for our family. It's as though our lives hang in limbo for that very moment, because once it happens, we will finally be able move forward. With that phone call, she will no longer be stranger, but a little girl with a name and a face.

Until then though, we must wait.

The past few weeks of waiting have been especially hard, and I have been fighting feelings of restlessness. I want to be done. I'm tired of living in limbo, not knowing if we will receive that phone call next week, next month or two months from now. And today, after a series of frustrating events, I slumped into the chair at my computer desk, and said to God, "I am restless. I'm tired of waiting. Give me an idea of how much longer we must wait. But please, don't wait until next week to give me an answer, I need to know today."

And then a few seconds later, I noticed the book Simpler Living Compassionate Life crammed into my bookshelf, and as I turned to the bookmarked page, my eyes fell on the following quote:

You have made us to be toward Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until we rest in You.
-Augustine of Hippo

To be quite honest, I was hoping to hear the phone ring as soon as I said that prayer. But God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that it would not have helped me to be given dates or times, because this adoption journey doesn't end when we bring our daughter home. It is the beginning of a lifelong commitment to follow Him when we can't see our own way. To trust Him when we become fearful, and to rest in Him when we become weary.

And if he achieves that objective by using the words from a 4th century bishop, then I will rest in that.

I just returned from dropping Caleb off at his first day of preschool. After walking into the empty house, the silence nearly knocked me over, but not before I jumped in the air and yelled "I have 2 1/2 hours to myself, woohoo!"

The truth is though, it is eerily quiet in here. Quiet enough, in fact, that for the first time in seven years I have heard my own thoughts and it scared me because, well....I seriously thought someone was in my house before I realized that those sounds were really coming from my own head.

As I was walking through the house I saw little reminders of Caleb scattered around; toy cars still laying where he left them just before he grabbed his backpack and climbed into the car on his first day of preschool...




...and I couldn't help but smile.

Caleb and I played The Game of LIFE today.

In case you have never played The Game of LIFE, and don't know what on earth I am talking about, here's the gist of the game: The player who retires with the highest amount of money wins. Before you can retire though, you must travel through the gameboard, stopping along the way to get married, buy a house and collect your Paydays.

It's a great representation of real life. They are even clever enough to throw in some typical life moments like this:

Buy an SUV.
Pay $25,000.

And some seriously frustrating scenarios like this:

Tornado hits house!
Pay $125,000 if not insured.

The more we progressed through The Game of Life, the more extravagant and expensive the squares became. Pretty soon we were buying sailboats for $30,000 and lakeside cabins for $90,000. We were throwing parties for entertainment award winners, sponsoring golf tournaments, buying home gyms and even attended a Hollywood movie premier. And then came the doozy...We spent $100,000 on cosmetic surgery! $100,000!?

I was so appalled that I was contemplating going on strike. More than that though, I was preparing myself to fight Caleb - tooth and nail - if he forced me to pay for such an outrageous surgery.

And then the most peculiar thing happened...Isaiah came home from school, hugged me and said "Mom, your butt is kinda jiggly."

Suddenly spending $100,000 on cosmetic surgery didn't sound so bad, but I wasn't going to admit it to myself until I spoke the last word. I leaned down, looked into Isaiah's eyes and glowering at him said:

Go Straight To Jail
Do Not Pass Go
Do Not Collect $200

Oops, that's Monopoly. I think we have been playing too many games around here, because what I meant to say was this... "If you ever say that again, I will rip your lips off. Do I make myself clear?"



I'm sorry. Where was I? I blacked out there for a minute.

Oh yes I remember now, LIFE.

It's an interesting game full of getting rich, buying extravagant toys, taking fancy vacations and *gulp* having cosmetic surgery done. There are, of course, the occasional squares that if you land on them, you are given money in the form of LIFE tiles for doing such self-less things as: Taking a family vacation, going hiking or fishing, visiting your in-laws or returning a lost wallet.

These things - in and of themselves - are not necessarily bad, but the longer we played the Game of Life, I couldn't help but think that this is what our lives look like for the majority of us. We spend much of our time building up our wealth, and then spending it on toys, vacations and body parts. We have done this often enough that a game has been named after it.

The Game of Life

Is that what life is about? The person who has the most money, the coolest toys, the best vacations and the most beautiful body, with some charity work in between, wins? Is this life just an accident caused by some cosmic collision? Or were we created by God and for God to have meaning and purpose?

In John 10:10, Jesus said:
"I have come that you may have life and have it abundantly."

What does it mean to have an abundant life? Jesus is not talking about material possessions, but rather, a richness and joy to life that holds firm regardless of our circumstances. In the past 15 months, Adam and I have been living the abundant life. In order to do so though, it required us to let go of our comfortable life, and completely trust God. It has not been easy, but we are finally going through life with a sense of purpose, peace, freedom and a personal relationship with our Savior who is with us every step of the way. And that is the abundant life...jiggly butt and all.

Matthew 19:26 With God all things are possible.

My neighbor, Sheri, and I canned peaches today. 88 pounds of peaches to be exact.

Actually, I take that back. After blanching, peeling, and slicing roughly 70 pounds of slippery peaches, then filling 28 quart sized jars with said peaches and sugar water, we decided that we had done enough canning for one day.

It's a good thing too, because my eyes were starting to cross, and as I quickly learned, it's rather dangerous to mix knives, slick peaches and crossed eyes. Nothing good can come of it.

The remaining 18 pounds were divided up; some were peeled and thrown into the freezer to be used in smoothies and desserts, and the others were left on the counter to remind me of the ungodly amount of work that is put into canning peaches. Truth be told though, it's worth it.

If you haven't canned peaches before, but are interested in trying it, here is an easy peasy recipe:

Canned Peaches

Canning Hardware:
Water bath canner, clean and sterilized jars and lids, screw top bands and funnel.
You will also need:
Peaches, Sugar, Fruit Fresh and Water.

* Place ripe peaches, just a few at a time, in a large pot of boiling water for 30 seconds to 1 minute.
* Remove peaches from boiling water and place in large bowl of ice water for about a minute, this stops the peaches from cooking.

* Remove skins from the peaches - they should slide off easily - Then slice peaches in half and remove the pit. At this point you can either choose to keep the peach halves or slice them into smaller pieces.
* Toss 5 or 6 sliced peaches into a large bowl and sprinkle with Fruit Fresh. Repeat this step until all peaches have been sliced and Fruit Fresh(ed).

*Place peaches aside and prepare your syrup by boiling 6 cups of water and 2 cups of sugar in a large pot. *Note: Depending on the size of your pot, you can add more water and sugar accordingly, as you will need quite aa bit Be sure to keep it hot.
*Pack peaches in jars and fill to 1/2 inch headspace. Using a funnel, ladle syrup into jars leaving 1/4 inch of headspace. Remove air bubbles by running a knife or other flat object through peaches.
*Wipe tops of jars with damp cloth and place lids on jars. Screw bands on jars and place in boiling water bath canner.
*Process peaches in boiling water for 20 minutes.
*Remove jars and let cool on a cloth, leaving room between each jar.
*Store peaches in cool, dry, dark place.

Yes, it's a hook. I'm sure it seems strange, and I am willing to bet that you are wondering why I have I would have taken a picture of a hook, let alone, put it on my blog. There is a purpose for it though, so just bear with me....

A few years ago Isaiah had the bright idea of doing acrobatics on the towel rack in his bathroom. As you can imagine, it didn't work out so well. As he launched himself from the toilet and grabbed the towel rack that was hanging on the opposing wall, he was quickly brought back to earth...and I mean that literally.

All I can say is that I heard two thuds. The first thud was a result of the wall stopping him in mid-swing, and the second was the towel rack ripping from said wall, causing both to land in a heap on the bathroom floor.

After making sure Isaiah was okay - and he was, I swear that kid is made of rubber - my concern turned to the towel rack. Aside from the fact that the brackets holding it against the wall were slightly bent, causing it to hang ever so loosely from the wall, it was okay.

For the last three years we have dealt with the loose towel rack, and it was fine for awhile, but the constant pulling off of towels has proven to be too much for that cheap towel rack, so we decided it was time to try something new. But that 'something' needed to be sturdier and more practical.

Here's what we did...



If you look closely at the picture, you will see two points of significance. And while they might only be significant to me, I still can't help but want to shout it from the rooftops as though everyone else should care. The first point is that the towel rack has been replaced by hooks. Do you know what that means? The boys can hang their own towels. I will say it again. Hang. Their. Own. Towels. You have no idea how happy this makes me.

Just in case you were wondering though, I will admit that I was tempted on marking this day on the calendar and celebrating it with cake and ice cream. I considered it for a split second, and then decided that that would be taking it too far.

The second significant point is that there are three hooks on the wall. Count them, one, two, three! We are ready for our daughter to come home. Never mind the fact that her room is still being used as the guest room. Her crib is disassembled, sitting in the closet, and we don't have a dresser or even clothes to fill a dresser. Nope, we don't have any of that. But I'm okay with it. And do you know why? Because we have a towel hook. A towel hook! This hook has given me the strength to face anything...Okay, I take that back. Maybe not anything, but Russia?, yeah, I can handle Russia.

And when the day comes that our daughter is finally home, you can rest assured that I will take another picture, but instead of two towels hanging in the bathroom, you will see three. Then maybe, just maybe, my life might be complete!