In which it is the season of Lent

Ash Wednesday is tomorrow. Last year, I went to Christ Church Cathedral on my lunch break to join with the saints as we prepare our hearts for Easter. We prayed, read scripture and received the ashes, reminding each other that "we are dust and to dust we shall return", beginning the process of making the way straight in our hearts and our community for the joy of Easter through this season of penitence, reflection, prayer and waiting.

This Ash Wednesday, I hope that I will be able to orchestrate simultaneous naptime so that I can spend some time on my knees alone. No cathedrals this year.

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I typically close my blog down for the Lenten season. This year will be no different.

So this will be my last post until 13 April.

I usually take this time to remove something from my life that I feel takes up much of my time/energy in order to focus that energy/time on Jesus. This year, that is my time on the Internet that is focused on myself.

And then I focus on spiritual disciplines - fasting, prayer, silence etc. - to replace that time. The spiritual discipline that I've had rolling around in my spirit is "secrecy". Secrecy is an oft-overlooked spiritual discipline and it's where I've felt drawn.

I feel that my pride needs the wind knocked out of it and that practising secrecy is the best route there. After all, will people think I'm a good mother if I don't write about my children? Will people think I'm funny if I don't post fun status updates?

Will people know that I'm spiritual if I don't tell them I am?

Plus there is the whole world of "status updates" and "Facebooking" and "Twittering"...if I don't post about it, did it really happen? (Much like the proverbial "if I tree falls in the forest..."). It's just another form of self-promotion, isn't it?  The fabulous women over at The Mommy Revolution wrote about this in a post called "Carla is jealous of your Facebook status" and the comments were really almost the best part. We've all got Facebook envy. Somehow I've started to need that validation.

So I will also be taking a break from updating my statuses (statii?) on Facebook and Twitter. There may be some "behind the scenes" tinkering of this blog, Facebook and my Twitter as I feel led. I have a stack of books I'm obligated to review and so will post those reviews today or tomorrow to get them finished. I am still planning on emailing and reading your antics, remaining present in your life through this medium.

I simply need to take a few weeks here and stop talking about myself. For heaven's sake. I'm sick of me. I can't imagine how you all feel.

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Plus, to be truthful, there is much that I need to focus on right now in my "real life". Aside from the usual that comes along with raising two babies, being a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend etc. of course.

• We are trying to finish off the application process with a denomination and it's been hard. As in, I'm-starting-to-wonder-if-this-is-spiritual-warfare kind of hard. We need to finish this to move to the next step. Or are we being blocked because we shouldn't do it, maybe God has something else for us?
  
• We have a lot of dreams and ideas we are praying about and through.
  
• I'm entering a new season of my life as a SAHM-slash-wannabe-writer. I feel I need to take a step back and wait on the Lord here. I don't want to become cloistered nor do I want to become sheltered and cut off from the world. I need to know how to "do" this part of my life well, in a way that makes space for God.
  
• I'm turning thirty in just a couple of weeks. My twenties have been a tremendous time of change. I feel I need to pray about and for my thirties, open my soul up to where Jesus is taking me and ask for courage.
  
• I have felt very strong "creative writerly urges" for months. I need to follow these and see where they lead me. Maybe if I stop writing about all of the other stuff, I'll be able to focus my energy that way.

There is much more. I need to wait. Slow the heck down and just wait with an open heart. I long with my whole heart to know Him more, to stop talking about Him and talk TO Him.

As the deer pants for the water, so my soul is panting after you, O Lord.

So would you do me a favour while I'm "gone"? Would you pray?

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If you would like to contact me, you can email me at poetstyles@yahoo.com.

For more on spiritual disciplines, I recommend "The Life You've Always Wanted" by John Ortberg and "The Sacred Way: Spiritual Practices for Everyday Life" by Tony Jones.

If you'd like to start to follow the Daily Office, the best resource I've found is Phyllis Tickle's "The Divine Hours", one for Fall/Winter, one for Summertime and one for Spring.

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There is a passage of Scripture that I have been meditating on in my quiet moments (those few quiet moments!). I'd like to share it with you to close this out.

Why would you ever complain, O Jacob,
   or, whine, Israel, saying,
"God has lost track of me.
   He doesn't care what happens to me"?
Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening?
God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
   He's Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath.
   And he knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired,
   gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
   young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.
   They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don't get tired,
   they walk and don't lag behind.

Isaiah 30:27-31

In which it wasn't me! A "Not Me Monday" Post

Welcome to Not Me! Monday!

This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

This was a rather uneventful week in our household.

I didn't get laid off from my job....voluntarily. Who does that in tough economic times? Only crazy people do that. So of course, I didn't do that.

Brian didn't inadvertently grow a full beard just because he got tired of shaving for too many days in a row. My husband is never lazy about important things like personal grooming.

On a rainy day, we didn't all get so wall-crawly in our 800 sq ft that I finally put the tinies in their car seats, went to a Tim Horton's drive thru for a coffee and then went for a drive for some peace for just two stinkin' minutes, thankyouverymuch, before coming back home. Who makes the only outing of their day the drive-thru? Not me.

My two year old is now two and a half. And she's absolutely 100% potty trained.

Nor am I the kind of mother that somehow feels like because my child cuts teeth easily and early that must mean I'm a wonderful mother. Because we all know kids cut teeth when they cut teeth. It has nothing to do with their mother.  So those women that congratulate themselves on their baby's teeth are so weird.  I'm not looking for such ego-stroking.

And on just one morning this week, all before 8AM....we didn't experience the following:

When I was just stepping into the shower and ...ahem...in the state of undress common to showering...ahem....I did not hear a bloodcurdling scream from my nearly-5-month-old son.

At which point, I did not scamper out to the living room - buck-naked even though the blinds were wide open - to see Joe, red-faced and screaming in pain with a shinny ball nearby and a white-faced small girl looking as guilty as sin.

And my baby boy certainly did NOT have a bloody nose. My baby. With his nose bleeding.

It's a good thing my daughter didn't burst into tears of remorse, shrieking that she'd just wanted to play catch with Baby Joe and then run away and slam a door to huddle and sob to herself.

And I didn't let her sob by herself while I tended to Joe, cleaning up his nose, checking for broken noses and bruises and then nursed him to sanity.

And it's a good thing I wasn't, you know, completely naked in the living room still for all of this.

After Joe settled down and I decided to check on Annie, I didn't find her in the washroom.

With a locked door.

I wouldn't know at all what it's like to stand in the hallway naked with goosebumps everywhere, trying to coach a toddler, devastated by the fact she'd hurt her baby brother, to OPEN THE DOOR, SWEETIE! MUMMY LOVES YOU! AND OPEN THE DOOR OPEN THE DOOR OPEN THE DOOR!

And then after getting the door opened, a small girl comforted and a small boy comforted and a shower finally (finally!) completed, I did not call my poor husband at the jobsite. And even though he said something completely rational like "Hey, babe, got my boss and the insurance adjusters right here...I'll call you back in 2", I'm not the kind of wife that then bursts into tears and shrieks into the phone "WHO PUT A SHINNY BALL IN OUR TOY BOX!?!?!"

In which I review "The Echo Within"

A small book with a big premise, "The Echo Within: Finding Your True Calling" by Robert Benson takes the idea of vocation one step further. We feel that sense of space when we know we aren't doing what we were meant to do.

This resonates very strongly with me right now as I've just stepped out of the corporate world for a season to write and raise my children. And the entire last half of the book is about his similar journey. Good timing, yes?

There is true spirituality in work and in how we work. It is, as my Grandpa Ken used to say, an honourable thing to work. And the importance of our work as a calling? It's the cornerstone of our work ethic and philosophy, isn't it?

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The Echo Within is a profoundly affecting, honest look at the myriad ways we are drawn into our life’s best work.

            Written out of his own lifelong search for and response to the calling voice of God, Robert Benson recounts his discovery of the meaning of vocation, work, and purpose through the ups and downs inherent in family life, professional choice, and spiritual experience. With clarity and insight, and in the elegant prose for which he is known, he gently invites and encourages readers to find such deep truths for their lives as well. In particular, he illuminates the way for readers to explore:

 

·ways to sense the Holy in our pursuits, both in the pursuits themselves and within ourselves.

·how to fall into our vocation and chart a course toward it at the same time.

·how to love the work we do, and the process of doing it.

 

For anyone beginning a new career or sensing a needed change in their life or wrestling with a transition suddenly thrust upon them, Robert Benson delivers wisdom, humor, and heart in what he’s learned about listening for The Echo Within—and how it can help us discover our calling.

Robert Benson has written more than a dozen books about the discovery of the sacred in the midst of our ordinary lives, including Between the Dreaming and the Coming True, Home By Another Way, and Digging In. His work has been critically acclaimed in a wide range of publications from The New York Times and USA Today to Spirituality & Health and The Benedictine Review. He is an alumnus of The Upper Room’s Academy for Spiritual Formation and was recently named a Living Spiritual Teacher by SpiritualityandPractice.com. He lives in Nashville , Tennessee .

 

 

In which we have a new game to play

It's become the highlight of my night to check on Anne right before I go to bed. Of course, I love to just tuck the covers around her one last time, make sure her Blankie is nearby and generally love on her a bit while she sleeps. But lately, when I check on her at night, it's become a game of "Guess What Will Be In Anne's Bed Tonight?"

Two nights ago, these were the contents of her bed:

• 7 books including her newly beloved "brown hare" (AKA "Guess How Much I Love You")
  
• 1 Valentines Day card from her Dad
  
• 3 stickers that she collected during the day for successfully potty training adventures
  
• And 1 official ESPN Gameday College football.

She had them all under her covers with her, curled around that football like it was a baby.

Last night, when I checked on her:

• she had on her Princess costume with the purple tutu
  
• and her princess tiara
  
• and her Pooh bear with another dress on it
  
• 4 stickers
  
• a pair of socks

Evidently, after we close the door, there is some serious partying going on in that room.

In which we make some life-changing decisions

I never write about work. But I'll make an exception today because it's tied to my life-changing decision announcement. 

My credit union - which I love - recently put out an offer for voluntary redundancy. Basically, in these economic times, they want to reduce our workforce so they asked if anyone would volunteer to be laid off.

And I volunteered.

I just signed off on the papers and am about to drop them off right now.

You know what this means?

I'm officially a stay-at-home-mum/writer. For reals.

I'm not particularly career-driven but I have derived a lot of satisfaction, joy, accomplishments and experiences out of my career. I particularly have enjoyed climbing the "ladder" with its accompanying benefits like autonomy and salary and even prestige. It's fun to say "I was a VP at 25." Not to put too fine a point on it, but despite my creative self and my insistence as a younger person that there was "no way I was ever going to work in business or at an 8-5 job!", I was good at it. And I enjoyed it most of the time. Not in a life-fulfilling way. Not in a "boy, I made a difference" way. But when you've got to make a living, it was a good way to do so. I learned a lot. I met wonderful people. I have found strong community in every place I've worked; good friends that remained friends even after leaving that employer.

But after I had Anne, I went back to work a completely different person. I worked for a year before going back off on mat leave again with Joe. And this time, I just couldn't do it. I was looking at day cares and thinking of going back to work and just....couldn't.

We would have mornings where we had to be somewhere like a doctor appointment. I'd have to rush around, get the kids dressed and fed and out the door. They were weeping with exhaustion and rush. I stopped and looked at them and thought "Do I want to do this every morning?"

I am about 80/20 split on this. 80% of me is excited and thrilled for the opportunity. I love my tinies, love being their mother, love doing the "daily" of life with them. It's a hard job - sometimes thankless, sometimes exhausting - but there is nowhere else I'd rather be. No matter the money (oh, dear Jesus! Money!!!!). I also write on the side and this is an opportunity to build that business up a bit more to make up a bit of the shortfall. It's a big step for us to do as I'm the primary breadwinner. But we are ready to take a risk.

But then 20% of me is wondering what the heck I just did? I walked away from a great job with people I love making good money. I will miss it. I will miss my friends. I will miss working. It's a transition for certain.

Ultimately, it's a personal decision for each family of course. I don't for a minute think that all mothers should stay home with their children.

But I need to. I need to be here. I feel like my children need me at home. I feel like my family needs me at home. I can go back to work at any time and work until I'm 65. But I only get a few, precious years at home with tiny children that have made me the centre of their world, influencing them and pointing them towards goodness and truth before everyone else gets them. I want them all to myself for just a while longer. It goes so fast, doesn't it?

And I'm happy about it. Not in an unrealistic way that it will be all play doh parties, bubbles, rainbows and snuggle time every day. But in the quiet way of knowing that I have done the right thing.

In a way it goes back to the "simple living" thing I've been ruminating on lately. What is  my time worth? Everyone makes those decisions. If I get a car and a car payment, then I have to work to pay for it. If I continue to make do with one vehicle, I don't have to work. If I get cable and a cell phone, I have to work to pay for it. That's not worth it to me. If I went back to work, maybe we could afford a house with a postage stamp of a yard for the tinies - and that's attractive to all of us. But ultimately, I'd rather be in a tiny condo and home with them, than in a big house, only seeing each other on evenings and weekends.  (Again - NO JUDGMENT ON ANYONE!)

I'd rather live simply on less with a tight budget for a few years and be home with my tinies. I feel its important to create some margin in our lives, some space for God to move. If we're so busy - rushing to work, trying to cram in the chores and grocery shopping and cleaning in the evenings and weekend, trying to fit the tinies and their needs in on top of all of that, let alone each other - where is the space? We need space. Me being home gives us space. It gives me and Brian the evenings and weekends together. It gives my tinies a slower pace. It gives us room. And when we have room, we have room for God, room for others, room for each other.  I'm sure I'll have more on this as it all sinks in.

We all need this. And it's good.

In which the Bruins are on a winning streak indeed

We are Calgary Flames fans. My brother in law is a Vancouver Canucks fan. My Dad is a Boston Bruins fan. My mother vacillates between Calgary and Boston, usually choosing Boston for first in her affections. My sister is a Bruins fan with the Canucks as a close second.

Naturally, we've all been out to capture our children's affection for a particular NHL team. We are all out to convert these poor tinies to our team.

We bought Anne lovely Calgary Flames gear including her hockey stick. And she loved it. We've also bought items for Joe, convinced that his name is meant for the Hockey Hall of Fame (come on "Big Joe Bessey"!).

Brian and I were feeling pretty smug, sure of our little Flames fans.

And then, on Saturday, Papa and Granny brought out the big guns.

They bought Anne her very own Bruins hockey sweater, complete with her own name on it (and, of course, Bobby's number 4 on it).

Here they are, worshipping at the shrine to Bobby Orr together.

This small girl has slept in her jersey for three nights. She won't take it off to eat. She is obsessed with hockey. We took her skating that day and all she wanted to talk about for two hours was about how when she was "grown up" she was going to be a "hockey girl".

Oh, and go Bruins.

In which we have 3 winners

Here are the winners from the Valentines Day giveaway:

For Couples Only Winner - bleejones @ 3:29 pm

I Do Again Winner - *nnie @ 1:15 pm

Love as a Way of Life Winner - Sara @ 8:05 pm



Congratulations! You can email me at poetstyles@yahoo.com with your address. I'll get them in the mail this week for you.

In which I am sure there are lovely people in Arkansas

I lived in the USA for 8 years. Specifically, I lived in Oklahoma and Texas AKA the Buckle of the Bible Belt.

But I travelled extensively throughout the United States so I eventually learned that:

A) Not everyone in the USA carried a gun in a pickup truck which sported a "Charlton Heston is my President" bumper sticker.

B) Not everyone in the entire USA mismatched their vowels. For instance, a pen is a "pin" and you count to "tin".

C) Not everyone in the entire USA had a Bush-Cheney sign on their front lawn.

D) Not everyone in the entire USA ate buns (also called biscuits) covered with a thick, gluey white sauce called "gravy" for breakfast. With a side of steak. A. Side. Of. Steak.

I am still convinced that every small town in America has a Dairy Queen and a Pizza Hut. If you are south of Kansas, it will also have a Sonic.

But pretty much everything else you've heard is true.

However, my experiences with the Great State of Arkansas were unmatched. I have seen many a pick up truck, many a wife-beater shirt, many a shack on the side of the highway with a sign advertising "Chewin' Tobacco" and many a church with bad signs (One of the worst? "God only reads knee-mail." Well, there was also the one that read "Hairy Potter is going to hell.").

One day, while we were living in Tulsa, we decided to drive over the border into Arkansas for no other reason than to go for a drive and maybe go golfing. It was a sunny day, we weren't good golfers (still aren't) but just wanted to hang out.

We went to Borders and grabbed an Arkansas guide book (stop laughing!) which highly recommended a certain golf course. I can't remember the name of it now but I believe it was something imposing like "Arkansas State Golf Course".

We drove and we drove and we drove. We looked and looked. Couldn't find it. We were on a back country road, surrounded by barbed wire fences, lanky dogs, trailer parks and scrubby bushes but no golf course. Finally, after we had driven past the Dairy Queen no less than four times, I realised that the pro shop for the golf course was actually THE DAIRY QUEEN.

So we went in, paid for 9 holes and got a dilly bar. All for about $4.25 a piece. We then proceeded to golf in a cow pasture right next to a prison.

Afterwards, we headed into Fort Smith which, we had been assured, was a "mighty fine place for touristin'". So we "touristed" around the old town, browsing in antique stores. Around these parts, they called it "junkin'" and for good reason - most of it was junk from your grandmothers basement. If your grandmothers basement had never been cleaned in your entire life or your mother's. We wandered through dusty stacks of Roy Orbison albums, harvest gold refrigerators and bad pottery.

In one shop, I was enchanted by tiny ceramic tea cups. They were thimble sized but nicely painted with a delicate hand. When I turned them over, they read "Made in Occupied Japan". I thought they were lovely.

The lady at the counter noticed me looking at them and a conversation ensued.

Lady (bellowing from the counter): Lookin at those tee cups!

Me: Yes, they're lovely!

Lady: Those cups're real rare.

Me: Oh, really?

Lady: Yep. They're made in a place called Oak-u-pied, Japan. I've tried for years to find Oak-u-pied on a map but ain't nowhere to be found. No one's even heard of it. So I figure it's gone. Just gone. Not often you get a tea cup from a place that's gone now.

Me: Oak-u-pied?

Lady: Yep, I ain't never been there. But I bet it's real nice. Real nice place, that Oak-u-pied.

Afterwards, we left Arkansas.

And moved to Texas.

DISCLAIMER: I have friends in Arkansas. I know it's full of lovely, intelligent people.

In which Joe cuts a tooth and Anne is growing up so fast

If you haven't had a chance yet, make sure you enter my Valentine's Day book giveaway.

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Joe cut his first tooth today!

I am rather sad about it, to be honest. With Anne, I rejoiced to no end. After all, since she cut teeth early, didn't that mean that I was an incredible mother?! Of course it did.

But I love Joe's bare baby gummies, his toothless grins. I'm sad that he is growing up so fast. Those bare baby gummies are one of my favourite features of babyhood.

You can't tell I'm a breastfeeding mother, can you?

We always prefer the babies without teeth.

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He cut the exact same tooth as Anne and on the exact same timetable. They were both 4 months, 18 days when they cut their first tooth. Isn't that funny?

He's a great teether. Not too much fussiness or fever. The only majorly noticeable thing was the drooling - oh, dear Jesus THE DROOLING - and he has had not slept well at night. And I haven't slept more than an hour at a time for a week.

We're talking serious sleep deprivation here, people.

So the best remedy for that was getting Season 3 of Grey's Anatomy from the library because we all know that staying up until 12 o'clock at night, watching fornicating doctors is the best use of one's time.

I love that show.

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I think that Anne is a tad bit independent.

"No, Mumma! I do it!"

"No, Mumma! Annie do it!"

"No, Mumma! Do it not! Annie do it!"

And today was a good day - I only heard those phrases, oh, about 30,208 times.

My wee girl is growing up so quickly. (Yes, she's only two and a half so I know that I have no right to that phrase but IT IS TRUE.) She can now dress herself reasonably well. She feeds herself. When she feels like it which is hardly ever so I am constantly the Poo Police, she can go in the potty. She entertains Joseph. She chatters constantly. She remembers everything. Everything? Yes, everything. I've never seen a kid that can remember everything the way this kid can remember everything. She pretends. She plays dress up. She draws hockey nets. She colours. She turns on the CD player so she can listen to Veggie Tales. She sings along. She remembers the words even when it's not on. She recites books. She gets up in the middle of the night to change her own Pull Up if it happens to be wet. Of course, then that means it's time to read so she huddles by her night light with a stack of books a mile high and "reads" them to herself.

And she's independent.

"You help me not, Mumma!" When she says something negative, she'll drop a "not" at the end of the sentence just to make sure you know she really meant it.

Evidently her sentence structure fell out of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. It's something fierce, my friends. NOT.

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We went to the playground to blow a bit of stink off the tinies. We've been cooped up much of the winter because of the rain and snow and slush and new baby so it's nice to be outside again.

Here are a few pictures of our day:

We're quite a team.

Boy, I like these tinies. They're a lot of fun.

In which I update you about my neighbour situation

Thanks to everyone for your advice and prayers about our situation. Things were fairly quiet for the next few evenings. I kept an eye out for them but didn't run into either one. Then last night, it started up again. There was slamming and screaming. We could hear the small boy shrieking.

Brian just got up and put on his shoes and left without a word. I started to pray. 10 minutes passed. He came back and told me that he spoke with the mother. The entire time that they were speaking the boy kept screaming.

He wanted candy.

She looked pretty worn out and matter of fact. She told Brian that her son had some behaviour issues and would scream when he didn't get his way. So he screams when its bedtime or when he wants something and doesn't get it. She was very apologetic that everyone could hear them. She admitted that sometimes she yells back when she doesn't know what else to do. Brian stayed for a moment to make sure everything was kosher. He felt satisfied by the story because while he was still there, the boy kept screaming for candy. He told the mother that if she needed any help to let us know. She told him she was thankful that someone at least checked on them; after all, if it WAS something, wouldn't you want to know that your neighbours would stand up?

I'm going to try to send some baking or something down in the next week or so and also offer to watch him on a Saturday afternoon or something in case she wants to do her grocery shopping or something. My heart is often with single parents. It's a hard road and they are so brave. But I wonder if there isn't something special needed to be a single mother to a little boy particularly those that seem to need a father-figure so badly in their life.

In which I have 3 books to giveaway for V-day

I have another book giveaway for you! In honour of Valentines Day, no less. And we'll have three winners!

Personally, my favourite was "For Couples Only". The other two are lovely as well. But the "For Couples Only" brokered some great discussions between Brian and I. Even if you don't win, that one would be worth a purchase.

To be honest, I wasn't thrilled with "I Do Again" as I found it rather shallow (both the break-up of the marriage and the story itself) but others may like it.

To enter, post a comment telling me how you met your significant other. If you don't have a significant other, just leave a comment. (No one is excluded.) I'll draw a random winner for each book (three books = three winners!) on Valentines Day.

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With their professional success and adorable twin daughters, Jeff and Cheryl Scruggs looked like the perfect couple. But their polished facade concealed a widening chasm between two people unable to connect on an intimate, soul-deep level.

            After years of frustration, Cheryl’s desire for emotional fulfillment led to an affair and, finally, divorce. Yet, incredibly, seven years later, Jeff and Cheryl once again stood at the altar, promising to “love, honor, and cherish” one another. A new and vibrant love had risen out of the ashes of this family’s pain.

            I Do Again details the fascinating real-life story of a couple whose relationship seemed shattered beyond all hope until a spiritual awakening led them to reconsider their definitions of “happily ever after.” A riveting account of the power of prayer and redemption, this remarkable book offers renewed hope for even the most troubled marriages—and reveals why the rewards of restoration are well worth the wait.

Author Bio:

Cheryl and Jeff Scruggs are the founders of Hope Matters Marriage Ministries, and for the past several years they have shared their incredible story of a marriage restored with audiences across the nation. Jeff is an account manager with OshKosh B’Gosh, and Cheryl has served as director of the Frisco, Texas , office of the Center for Christian Counseling. They live in Dallas , Texas with their two college-age daughters.

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In his book Love As a Way of Life, best-selling author Gary Chapman shows readers how to cultivate a new lifestyle built around the seven characteristics of authentic love. Now in a companion devotional, he provides ninety inspirational readings to help Christians consistently live out the characteristics of love in every relationship.

            Each devotional entry showcases biblical truths that guide a life of love, offering fresh insight and practical guidance in how to make love a lasting habit. Over the course of three months, readers will learn to follow God’s lead as they practice the characteristics of a loving person: kindness, patience, forgiveness, courtesy, humility, generosity, and honesty. 

The Love As a Way of Life Devotional makes an ideal gift for the holidays or for any special occasion. Couples, parents, new graduates, and anyone celebrating a milestone in life will welcome this inspiring daily guide to richer, more satisfying relationships.

Author Bio:

Dr. Gary Chapman is the author of twenty-six books, including the New York Times bestseller The Five Love Languages, with more than 4 million copies in print. His daily radio program, A Love Language Minute, is broadcast on more than 100 stations nationwide. Dr. Chapman, a graduate of Moody Bible Institute, Wheaton College , Wake-Forest University , and Southwestern Seminary, serves on a church staff in North Carolina .

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Since their debut, these revolutionary guides have sold well over a million copies, been translated into fifteen languages, and sparked much fascinating water-cooler conversation around the country. Now together in the For Couples Only boxed set, these books provide the perfect resource to help you understand what you never knew about the woman or man in your life.

Each volume is based on input from more than a thousand members of the opposite sex—including an unprecedented nationwide survey and hundreds of personal interviews. This innovative approach yields candid and surprising answers about everything you don’t “get” about your significant other—even what that person deeply wishes you knew. It also produces simple but groundbreaking awareness of how you can best love and support the one who is most important to you.

So whether you are newly dating or have been married fifty years, get ready to know each other in a whole new way. The adventure is just beginning!

Author Bio:

Shaunti and Jeff Feldhahn hold graduate degrees from Harvard University and are popular national speakers, authors, and entrepreneurs. They are also active church members and the parents of two young children, and they enjoy every minute of living life at warp speed.

 

In which I don't know what to do about my neighbours

I haven't felt much like blogging or commenting lately. A bad case of Ecclesiastes - vanity vanity, it's all vanity!

But evidently I'm over that. For now.

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I am perplexed and praying tonight. We have new neighbours underneath us. Our walls are not thin. Sure, I can hear the people upstairs vacuuming. Sure, I can hear the guy next door watch Star Wars on his surround sound. But it's really not too too bad.

And yet almost every night, I hear a small boy yelling and screaming and his mother yelling and screaming right back.

I've met our neighbours. It's a single mother in her thirties and her son.   Anne occasionally peers through the slats of our balcony down at him on the grass. He's about four or five. Seems a typical kid - a little chatty, a little mouthy. Nothing much. Brian knocked on their door once when he was locked out of the building and they nicely let him in. They aren't very friendly though. We haven't had much luck chatting them up. Which is odd. Since I gave birth to Joseph downstairs, almost everyone in the building knows who we are and so they always want to chat and see the baby. We know quite a few in our building and have even made a few friends (which is odd for condo buildings, I assure you - we might as well be a lair of vampires for all the socialising that typically goes on in apartments in Canada).

Not every night, but often enough that it's noticeable.  Around eight or nine o'clock, the screaming starts. They scream at each other. They yell. Someone slams doors. Someone seems to be kicking a wall or two. Usually it's over in about ten minutes. Some nights, it can go on for a while.

One night, I was asleep and I was woken up by the sounds of this: I felt sick to my stomach as I listened to the screaming between a mother and her child go on for almost 20 minutes more. I was alone as Brian was out working.

I didn't know what to do.

I still don't.

For all I know, he could be resisting bedtime by throwing fits every night. Or maybe he suffers from some sort of behavioural issue that results in this.

But what if it's something more? What if there is a child being hurt downstairs?

My heart is in my throat about it. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel helpless.

What do I do? Brian swears that the next time he hears them, he's going downstairs to knock on the door. And say what? We don't know. Maybe just let them know we hear them? Maybe ask if everything is okay? Maybe call the child protection agency? Invite them to supper?

I am praying for wisdom tonight.

In which we visit Steveston just to watch the sunset on the ocean

Steveston is a quaint fishing village on the ocean side of Richmond which is just south of Vancouver.

We hadn't ever been there before which surprises me. Everyone always talks about it as it's the best place to watch the killer whales in season. I always watch the killer whales from the ferries on the way to the Island so never felt the need to go.

But this past Sunday afternoon dawned glorious, warm and sunny so we packed up the tinies and headed out to the pier to watch the sunset.

We raced on the pier (I won). We barked back at the dogs that live on the boats. We contemplated buying fresh fish but decided against it since we weren't headed straight home. We wandered. We took pictures of the sunset. We laughed. Anne got tired and rode on her dad's shoulders. Our fingers got really cold.

And when the night fell, we buckled the tinies back into the Earth Destroyer 2003 and drove home under the stars.

In which I write a letter to myself at 20

I am about to turn 30 (THIRTY! ME! *faint*) next month.
March 19th, in case you'd like to send me some money.
Anyway.
A few girls in the Internets are having some fun writing a letter to themselves at 20. And so, I decided to indulge. 

(Yes, this is me at 20. And yes, that's Brian. I told you were babies when we got together!)
Dear Sarah:
I don't have much time. Your two tinies (yes, you get two tiny children!) are napping at the same time at this very moment. And we don't know how long this will last.
So we need to make this snappy.
1.  Don't dye your hair black. It will take forever to remove and you'll end up cutting off your cherished waist length hair over it.
2.  That boy you've been with since you were 16 but are kind of breaking up with right now? It's okay. You're both going to be so much better for this. He's not the one. And you're not his "one". Now let go.
3. You know that guy you just had a date with for the first time just a few weeks ago? Brian? You remember that odd feeling on your first date that you knew each other and that you felt like you were already in love? Not that you were falling in love but that you already loved each other wildly? You do. And it's just going to get better.
4. When you get married (see #3), don't bother starting your real life yet. I know you feel a lot of pressure to be smart and responsible. But I think you should just throw your stuff in storage and hit the road for a few years together. All of the responsibilities will be there for the rest of your life. A few years in hostels and campgrounds across the world with your soulmate won't.
5. Make it a priority to visit your grandmothers. You'll feel like you didn't get enough of their stories by the time they're gone. Talk to the women in your family, listen to their stories.
6.  Wear a bikini. Seriously. In about ten years, you'll look back on pictures of yourself and think "I HAD THE BELLY OF A POP STAR!"
7.  Stop drinking so much coffee. I know you drink about 3 pots a day right now. What is up with that? In about ten years, you'll be so sick of coffee that you'll completely give it up when you get pregnant and never go back. You'll drink tea instead.
8. Don't let Brian talk you into buying that VW Jetta. It's a piece of crap. Stick with your Honda.
9.  Buy Google as soon as they go public. Then sell in 2007. If you could manage to do the same with Apple (maybe buy right before the iPod is launched...wait, you don't know what that is yet....trust me - it'll be huge) that would be great.
10. Pay off as much of your mortgage as you can while you are both still working. Save as much as you can. You'll both kick yourselves in about 5 years when you realise how much of your income went to eating out.
11. Speaking of which, don't eat out so much. You're going to gain about 60 pounds over it and then have to work REALLY HARD to lose it and keep it off.
12.  Wrap yourself in the Scriptures. They will be your lifeline many times.
13. Remember that we have a tendency to be a bit of a know-it-all. It's okay to let it go sometimes and just listen.
14.  Get your US citizenship when you have the opportunity. You can be dual. I promise you'll kick yourself for not getting it eventually.
15.  Stay in touch with your friends and cousins and family. You'll need them more than you can foresee now.
16.  It's okay to weep and it's okay to not know the answers. You'll be mighty thankful you married a man that laughs with you because a sense of humour is going to come in very handy.  There will be times when you feel that you are completely undone with not much left. God will meet you there. You and your husband will have a season of being in-between. It will be hard. But it will be beautiful. You'll see. You'll be carried.
17.  When you decide to start a blog, don't use Xanga. It's weird and hard to use. Then you'll be stuck nearly four years later with all of those blogs and a crappy site. What's blogging? Never mind.
18.  Don't bother getting those cats. You're just not an animal person. And that's okay.
19. I know you worry about how you'll be as a mother sometimes. Don't. When your children are born, so is their mother. And you are more than enough. The depths of love you will have for them will overwhelm everything.
20.  When it all comes down to it, you'll find that it's all about loving God and loving people. Do these things well.
21.  You're going to be a pastor's wife. Stop laughing. I'm serious. Seriously. Now here's the kicker - you're going to love it. You'll fall wildly in love with people and their stories and want to do life with them. This amazes us still.
22. Don't be so hard on people. You're going to learn compassion but it would be nice to start off with a bit more.
23. Pretty much nothing is black and white. Just so you know. There is a lot of beautiful grey and even more dazzling colours. You're going to love learning this.
24. You want to change the world and feel rich with possibility right now. You'll feel disillusioned after a few years. Don't worry - that sense of the impossible will come back. The passion doesn't die.
25.  Don't be so quick to indulge in those sales at Target. You'll spend the rest of your days throwing that crap out. Just because it's a good deal and you like it does NOT mean you have to buy it. Live simply sooner.
Finally, you're headed for some big changes. You're going to get married much sooner than you ever anticipated. You're going to be working in corporate America. You're going to live in a suburb in Texas. (It won't be so bad.)  You won't publish your first novel in your twenties (maybe your thirties?). You're going to give birth to beautiful babies. You're going to move - a lot. You're going to have almost everything you think you know deconstucted and put back together in a completely different way than you expected. Oh, the life ahead of you!
You're going to stay up late and wander through your house just to gaze at these faces that you love and gloat over their loveliness to yourself. Then you'll wind up on the porch, staring at the moon. And you'll weep with joy at what you have been given. And then you'll slide into the bed that your husband built for you and he'll hold you all night long.
Love Yourself.

H/T to Missy at It's Almost Naptime and Beth at Raising Three Sons.