And the word of the year is...

...contentment

Have you seen the quote going around the www, "Wherever you are, be all there"?  The late Jim Elliot coined the phrase, but with more vigor:

Wherever you are, be all there!  Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.

The conviction-

Presence of mind.  To hear my kids when they're saying my name.  Eagerly listen to the pastor when he's preaching.  Focus on Oliver's learning while I'm teaching him.  Stop and listen to my girls' stories about their days and their imaginings for tomorrow when I tuck them into bed (by bedtime I'm usually feeling the doneness of my parenting for the day).  To throw off distractions and just be where I am, when I am.

          *don't anyone tell Oliver about those sentence fragments.  I'd be in big trouble.

What I don't want to be content with is my relationship with Jesus, my ego, my laziness.  I want to press on in my relationships, my teaching, my learning, my service.  I don't want to settle for the way things are, but always try to improve.  I want to be a life-long learner- carpe diem every darn day,  while embracing my kids' childhood, my husband's cabinet-related ramblings, the opportunity to slow down and catch up with a friend.  

I guess what I'm saying is, I want to "Make the most of every opportunity..." Ephesians 5:16

  

An observation of bitterness:

It's an ugly thing.  Bitterness is a beast that grows when you ignore it or when you pretend it isn't what it is.  I know a lot about this subject, as I've allowed bitterness to become one of my best friends.  This friend rubs my shoulders and whispers 'why are people so dumb?'  Bitterness brings along its bosom buddy, Pride, and they dig around until my thoughts are so self-focused, I can't see anyone but me, my way, and how I've been wronged. 

We've been talking a lot about the Fruits of the Spirit at our house.  The other day after raising my voice- okay, yelling- at the kids, I said I was sorry.  Oliver said, "It's okay mommy.  Next time just use self-control."  Humph.

The fruits are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  That list leaves no room for bitterness, pride, or any other narcissistic thoughts.  All of those virtues focus outward, towards others.  Our thoughts are reflected in our attitude, and our attitude influences those around us.

Hebrews 12:15 Look after each other so that none of you fails to receive the grace of God.  Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many.

Speaking of virtue, here come three angels...that's a joke!  But they sure are cute- Oliver, Theo, and George last fall.



Confession:

Sometimes I feel trapped in my mind. What I mean is, I get so caught up in my thoughts (frets, really), that I become overwhelmed with all there is to worry about. This seems wrong, considering the God of the universe has promised peace and safety, provision and strength.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything,

by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
present your requests to God. And the peace of God,
which transcends all understanding, will guard your
hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble,
whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely,
whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -
think about such things." Philippians 4:6-8

Interesting how Paul makes the transition from anxiety to rectifying our thoughts, detecting the origin. Our enemy, the Devil, wants to devour us. He's tricky in using a very personal, God-given tool, our own minds, to manipulate and confuse. Sometimes I feel like he's eating me from the inside out. Though this sounds morbid, there's hope! In Ephesians God gives us a list of tools and armor to combat this most destructive pattern Satan has wound us in. The belt of TRUTH, breastplate of righteousness, sandals of the gospel of peace, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, sword of the Spirit--the word of God. The trouble comes when we don't use these defenses, when our guard is down, when our thoughts aren't fixed on Him. Now, I'm a very practical person, so I know it's not possible to be actually praying all the time. However, I know I can be in constant communion with God, having a prayerful heart.
Here's where it gets tricky again... my sin blocks my communication with Christ. Yesterday at Bible study a new thought came from an old reminder - unconfessed sin is a barrier in our relationship with the Lord. I usually pile this up (sin), until it's looming over me like an impossible mountain to climb... a mountain of sin is a dreadful thing, to be sure. But I don't have to climb it. With the resurrection power of Jesus, I can shatter it! Until I call on the power of Jesus, I am joyless, faithless. Doom and gloom. This is a very real problem I've been experiencing. I've lost my moxy... only to take it up again upon this grand discovery! It can feel like a bleak uphill battle, but when I carry my burdens and blunders to the cross and lay them at the feet of Jesus Christ, I find that the ground is level there. No one is better than me, no one is worse. We all go before Him equally, stained by our choices and washed by His blood. The key is in the confession.

{You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,
because he trusts in you. Isaiah 26:3}

All things old and new

As the year draws to a close, I consider our family's experiences and it seems we're accidentally going green. This term gets me a little riled because it's become such a buzzword. A trend. My dad has never not been green, so it's something I grew up with (usually dragging my feet in protest of the inconvenience). It's not a new, clever, innovative idea, but a habit some have been in since the cold war. I agree that being good stewards of our resources is smart, reinventing used items..it's good. The terminology is what gets me. "Going green." It's a celebrity band wagon. Regardless... this is what we've recycled this year, some with a chuckle:
-our basement (what used to be a dirty, dirt floor dungeon was transformed into temporary living quarters for our family of three)
-the 1997 Mazda 626 that was my sister-in-law, Jessica's (during whose ownership the car weathered hurricane Katrina), then my dad's, now ours
-our house
-about a million and a half aluminum and tin cans, glass jars, milk jugs
-all of the appliances in our make-shift kitchen (in the laundry room)
-the leaves in our yard... ah...I guess we'll be composting them right where they fell
-Oliver's garage sale wardrobe
-so many old things in our house
The thing I'm hoping to add to this list in the new year is my attitude. Not exactly recycle it, but renew it.
Romans 12:2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will.
So I'm hoping that Jesus will be my motivation to do what's right, not pop-culture.
Here's a picture of our home away from home...in our home.

Mused and amused

One blog a month = wicked boring, but reality.
This morning at 6:30 I smashed up my car. Still waiting on word of whether or not it's totalled. A little about this car: it's been a thorn in my side since I drove it off the lot. It's a grand car- attractive, fast, loaded... just unnecessary for a car of mine to have all these attributes. When buying the car, as we were talking with the salesman (stereotypical used car dealer, btw), God was speaking to my spirit telling me this wasn't a wise choice. It was too late for me by that point though. My heart was lost to it. I had been dreaming of this charcoal 2000 Passat wagon since the first time I clamped eyes on it a few weeks earlier. My heart wasn't open to truth and wisdom, it was open to greed. I love cars. My brother Ise had me playing car-naming games since I was a tot, but the best thing I had owned until last June was a '96 Jeep Cherokee (a '90 Geo Prism preceding that. Jealous?). Wasn't it time for me to live the dream? Here's the thing about the dream -- the summer of 2008 was a high rolling summer for us with buying a house and a car... but looking back it was the most miserable time in my life. I had mono, which was more burdensome than anything I have ever experienced, twisting my body and my emotions into a mess. A major piece to the misery puzzle was trading in a perfectly functional, reliable, faithful old Jeepster for a newer, more attractive model...fully equipped with a 6 disk changer, leather/heated seats, and a monthly payment. Oh the foolishness of me.
Andrew and I are currently involved in a Bible study that's teaching us what the Bible says about money. "Everything in the heavens and earth is yours, O Lord, and this is your kingdom. We adore you as being in control of everything. Riches and honor come from you alone, and you are the Ruler of all mankind; your hand controls power and might and it is at your discretion that men are made great and given strength." 1 Chronicles 27:11, 12
So as we learn God's principles in handling money, we're seeing how doorknobbish some of our choices have been.
In brainstorming about how to humbly get ourselves out of this vehicle pickle with as little humiliation as possible, we thought the best way would be to total it and use in insurance money to buy something smaller and cheaper - a Geo, perhaps? So, this morning as we were driving into town, we made up this whole scenario of how our car could get totalled without any injury. It involved a grocery store parking lot, an old guy who didn't know the difference between 'D' and 'R', said old guy backing into our parked, passenger-less car, and an explosion. *The old man in this story was not harmed in any way. Ironically enough, just minutes after relating this story to my sister Anna via cell phone, I'm suddenly in and out of a major washout on a gravel road, not sure what just happened, wondering where the airbag shot my phone off to. Mission: accomplished...accidentally.

The Finer Things

Andrew, a cabinetmaker to the core, is a creative genius. I've had the good fortune of working with him in his wood shop lately, and what a treat it is. His current engagement is a houseful of cabinets for a beautiful new farmhouse.

I used to get impatient with Andrew's perfectionism in his work, but the more I work along side him, the more I realize how important - prodigious - it is to get everything just right. If people knew how much foresight - preliminary drawing, meeting, thinking - and talent was involved in their 'heart of the home,' they'd wonder at how a cabinet maker could part with a piece he's invested such thought and soul in. I'm always in such a rush, wanting to see the end product. The pretty part. No one's going to see what's under it all, so why does it matter if we sand the inside? Why do we only plane a thirty-second of an inch off, when our goal is to make it a half an inch thinner? Can't we just burn 'em all through once and get it over with? These are a few of the questions I plague Andrew with. Sending those 100+ pieces through the sander multiple times bores me. By the way, are all those screws really necessary?

And then I recognize the parallel -- this is just like my life. I spend so much time in front of the mirror primping and curling and crimping and pulling...but what about the inside? I know I don't want to walk out of the house looking like I just rolled out of bed (there's nothing scarier, just ask anyone who's seen my bed head), so I prioritize LOOKING good before I head off to wherever it is I'm going. But what about BEING good? The condition of my heart will outweigh the condition of my wardrobe if I meet a homeless person who doesn't track current trends (my bed head being the exception here. I'm pretty sure anyone would turn tail and run if they were exposed to that).

Yesterday at Bible Study Fellowship the teaching leader spoke on contentment. We're studying the life of Moses this year, and we've arrived at the point where the Israelites begin their complaining. Bitter water, no food, no water again... It hit me with the hammer of conviction. The whining of these former slaves started a mere three days after God had PARTED THE RED SEA, and it's so easy for me to mock them. But my faith in God is usually that conditional, too. As long as I can see His hand, I'm fine. But as soon as He allows trials in my life, I panic. I become discontented. I grumble. I doubt.

The advice I was given - a grand piece in the puzzle of our contentment - is to list five things you're thankful for each morning while you spend time with God. Today I'm thankful for:

1) Coffee in the morning
2) Andrew's work
3) My buddy, Oliver
4) Jesus
5) My sister, Anna, who's home for the weekend!

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." I Samuel 16:7

mononucleosis

I've been doctoring for many ailments since an end of June migraine that had me incapacitated, propped up in a hospital bed mumbling something about amnesia.
What's ailing me? My stomach, my head, my neck, my mouth, my mind. As a result, I've had an x-ray, a CT scan, an MRI/MRA, and an ultrasound. (I should be beaming with radio activity by now.) It was thought by the medical community that I may have gall stones. Great. This, following the kidney stones last year, and the overweight-with-high-blood-pressure the year before (hey, it was during pregnancy!). I am the oldest living 24 year old.
Anyway, it was a surprising relief to be diagnosed with a young person's illness - turns out Andrew and Oliver have been the beneficiaries of too many smooches from me - I have the 'kissing disease.'
O Mono, leave me alone; why must you drone on and on?

A long short story "Houses and God"

I have a few moments at Mom's to write, so I thought I would paint a more vivid picture of God's gracious timing and hand in our house buying experience...
Ever since Andrew and I bought our first house (on Little Pine Road) we knew it was a great start for us, but our dream was to have an old farm in the country - a place brimming with character just waiting to be dusted off and appreciated again. Not knowing the imaginary ideal would or could actually exist, we talked about instead, renovating our small rambler and growing a glorious garden. Then we would wonder how much of ourselves we should pour into a house that could only handle so much of our creativity before it started looking like something from Hansel and Gretel.
We thought we received our answer from God around Christmas time in 2005. We decided we needed a little adventure in our lives, so we were going to move to Colorado. "Shake the dust of this crummy little town and see the world," as George Bailey would say. But, while we were out in Colorado Springs checking on apartments and jobs in June that year, we found out God had a much bigger adventure in store for us - name: Oliver Isaac. So, we turned around and started settling back into our lives in Brainerd.
A year and a half went by with little or no action in our house saga. Our time was spent expecting, then experiencing our baby boy. Then in November last year, our neighbor called Andrew. His daughter was interested in buying our house. When Andrew told me we should sell I started crying, but in the end we knew it had to be God - we probably couldn't have sold if we tried, instead a buyer was sent right to us. We signed a purchase agreement in December, and started exploring the countryside for our new house...farm.
The search turned up one place we put an offer in on. It was good, not great. I'm now thankful that someone else snatched it up instead. We also came across a beautiful old farm that was abandoned, but quaking with potential. After hunting down the owners by way of the platte book and world wide web, we met with them, but they weren't willing to sell. We're also praising God that that didn't work out.
Then we found it. It was just about a month until closing on Little Pine, and we were getting discouraged. We even came to the conclusion that we were going to have to settle for just anything, because our dream didn't exist in reality. We were scheduled to look at two farms with our realtor, Joel. The first was a total bust. I tried not to get too hopeful as we drove the few miles to the second prospect. We passed a couple 'for sale' signs on 5 Mile that said "I'll be on the market forever." As we came to a clearing, there it was - pristine in the early summer greenery surrounding it. The house, the outbuildings (minus the barn), the towering white oaks...everything was just as we'd imagined.
Two days later we put an offer in. The farm had only been on the market a few days, but the owners and listing agent were reviewing six offers by the time we got ours in. We waited anxiously all that day... Andrew came home from work with the news that we were first runner up, but ultimately someone else got it. I bawled.
Then later that week Joel called us back to say that the deal fell through. The buyers, on the final walk-through before closing, found two inches of water in the basement. So, 'what Satan intended for evil [wet basement], God intended for good.' We had to reduce our offer because of the extra repairs we would have to make on the basement. We waited a weekend, which in its entirety felt like an eternity. Joel called. We got it. God is good.
And that's how we came upon our new little farm, a dusty one indeed.

We are here! We are here! We are here!

A note from Whoville (or at least what feels like one of Dr. Suess' lands of craziness and irony):
My sister's saying I don't blog enough. I'm just trying to keep up with my precious toddling noodleheimer, so forgive my scattered thoughts.
Lately the basic format of a day is wake up, eat, go outside, take a nap, eat, go outside, take a nap, and so forth. (Along with some other un-pleasantries that come with a diapered babe.)
Let me take a moment to further explain the photos.
I pushed Oli around the yard on the tricycle for quite some time yesterday. It was like pushing a chalkboard being scraped by fingernails - the wheels could use a little oil.
Do I need to explain the dancing street urchin? I was in a hurry.
The reason I sepia'd the 'old man' picture, is because Oliver was the pinnacle of fashion faux pas, wearing navy, black, and brown all at once. Not his fault, mine. I didn't want anyone to know, so I changed the color...
Oliver's teeth are amazing.
I'm happy to announce the breakthrough to sign language that Oliver has recently made. He can sign 'more,' 'all done,' and as you can see 'please.' I didn't want to teach him to sign at first because I thought it was just a silly thing that over achieving mothers made their children do. Once again I am humbled, put in my place by the discovery that I know nothing and have nothing but judgemental thoughts most of the time. In an act of desperation, I resorted to 'try' sign language to prevent Olives from grunting and whining about everything he wanted. Thank you, moms, for the brilliancy of baby signs. Along with the encouragement from my dear speech-pathology master Megan, I succumbed to the wonderful world of silence, which is truly golden.
Next allow me to point out another mommy blunder - letting a one year old feed himself spaghetti. I thought I would never be that stupid. My brains have officially left my head and gone somewhere unbeknownst to me. Yesterday I had the rare privilege of going to the salon to get my hair done. There is a dear friend and miracle worker who transforms me from beast to beauty ( my hair anyway), Aubry. What they say of stylists is true - they...ahem, we... are also counselors. Aubry has the divine blessing of a little daughter, Adison, who inspires her in every way. Are you wondering why this subject is not a new paragraph? It'll tie together, here: Aubry said she thought all her clutziness and absentmindedness was a result of being pregnant, and after she had the baby she would return to her normal intelligent self. But after Addy arrived, she discovered that 'normal' becomes a new state of mind, and that 'back to normal' will never exist. Isn't she wise? Oh Aub, I love you. All this to say - spaghetti is everywhere and I'm to blame.
And now the real kicker, not pictured -- my parents and sneaky little sis went behind Oliver's and my back and last night surprised us with the early birthday gift (for Anna and me) of a plane ride to Dayton, OH, where Oliver and I will spend a long weekend over Ann's birthday. This is a dream come true. I'm always wanting to surprise people with this or that, then my own family (Andrew was in on it, too), pulls a fast one on me. Oh dear. I'm overwhelmed with shock, awe, and gratitude. I love you, family!

"Words like 'thither,' 'mischance,' 'felicity'..."

So the reason I haven't blogged in a while is because I've been reading Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. It has had me 'in raptures'! It's so unbelievable...not a single sentence that would be used this side of the twentieth century. I'll quote a little regarding Elinor, the oldest of three sisters, as she reminds me so much of my dearest cousin Megan: "[Elinor] had an excellent heart; -her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught." Language. Brilliant. Cunning. Love. (Megan took a quiz on Facebook as to which of Miss Austen's heroines she would be, and Elinor Dashwood was the lucky lady.)
Changing the subject of this post, yet adding to my entertainment -- Oliver. He's a walking machine! It's amusing to see him waddle around the house, so unsure of himself and his ability. He usually has this look on his face like, "What am I doing? This is some kind of miracle. Look, Mom and Dad!" And yet, despite his unstable hobble, there is a bit of confidence, too... mixed with insecurity: he starts out so sure of himself, then stumbles, recovers, and wonders at what he's doing. I tried just now to take a picture of him. I guess the third of his photogenic problems (the first and second being looking away or closing his eyes), is the bucky factor. He was being such a little bear when I attempted to catch him in the act of walking, all I could get was a look that conveyed this was his least favorite activity of all. Arrr. He went straight to bed after this was taken.

And these are the trials and joys of the day. Adding to the joys of course is the sun which is melting the snow which is cheering us all. Praise the Lord. The baby and I may just venture out for a sled ride. Yes!

"I'm Too Excited to Sleep!"

Ever seen those commercials for Disney World where the little brother and sister are giggling before bed and the boy tells his parents he's too excited to sleep? Well, that was me this morning at 4:15. I wasn't giggling out loud, but inside I was overjoyed!..we're having Christmas for the Bobby Kasper family at my house today and most of my family will be here. Yes! Anna will be home! I think it was due to this fact that I couldn't sleep in the wee hours of this morning. That and it was almost 80 stinking degrees in our house. We now cater to the sleeping preferences of someone who's just almost one year old. What da heck.
It was sort of fun to be the only one stirring, though, because I got to spend some time really reflecting on Christmas..something I haven't been able to do yet this year it seems. I've been thinking a lot about Mary and what she went through..first of all being told BY AN ANGEL!! that she would be the mother of the Messiah, then traveling when she was about ready to burst (I was about ready to scream and burst about this time last year with little Olives squirming inside, so I sort of get that part..I didn't have to ride on a DONKEY amidst my misery, though, so...). To top all of that off, she's starting to feel serious contractions while they're looking for a place to stay. The place they find to stay? A BARN!! To think of going through the intense pain of labor and delivery while smelling animals and probably lying there in their stink makes me want to cry. I had an epidural and a doctor and a bed and a sanitary place for my baby...and I still cried. So, after all Mary and Joseph went through, here was Jesus. The King of the world, just a BABY. God knew that His Son would be born in the lowliest of places, it wasn't a mistake. He didn't forget to leave a spot for them in the inn..He chose to introduce Jesus in the most humble setting, so that we wouldn't feel dirty or unworthy coming to Him. Does that blow you away?
We're pretty excited here at the Toftness home..about everything about Christmas..family, friends, snow, cookies, cocoa, lights, sweaters, sledding, trees.....but most of all Jesus, who came to save His people from their sin. That's exciting stuff.

Merry Christmas from our family!