Friday, April 25, 2008

one more spring pleasure...

is watching Henry get ready for soccer, hearing how much he enjoyed the soccer practice, smiling when he says he wants to wear the shoes and shin guards to bed.

springtime pleasures and home scenes

Yesterday's golden hour: 6:00 to 7:00 p.m., captured by Joel.
Grape hyacinths and a red tulip picked by Henry.
Another golden hour view. My favorite chair.
Reading a biography of Alice Waters purchased here. Food writing is one of my favorite genres. MFK Fisher, the writers of Laurel's Kitchen, any good cookbook, Ruth Reichl. I enjoy cooking, but that's not the point. These writers invite me to live fully and enter a world where small details like food quality and origins are all-important, and then come back into my dirty-dishes-in-the-sink world feeling nourished by the time away.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Libby's blog

Yay! I'm pleased to announce Libby's blog, born early this morning.

Monday, April 21, 2008

moon fruits

Sunday afternoon, in addition to exploring an abandoned garden to look for asparagus, Henry and I watched the precursor to the Hot Wheels AcceleRacers movie. While we watched I cleaned out a drawer that holds art supplies and got inspired to make a collage...really because of you, Libby!
On the bottom there is a googly eye. Just couldn't resist sticking it on. The lines of typewritten words are a quotation from Mother Teresa that I see when I visit a favorite local prayer room. "The fruit of silence is prayer. The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. The fruit of service is peace." It is a squared circle of sorts, with the pear being the center and the four corners representing...well, four different things :).

I enjoy the way small bits of paper become spots of brilliance in collages.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

unexpected wisdom from a book on permaculture

An excerpt from The Secret of the Golden Flower (Jung) excerpted in Forest Gardening (pp. 18-19, by Robert Hart).
I always worked with the temperamental conviction that in the last analysis there are no insoluble problems, and experience has so far justified me in that I have often seen individuals who simply outgrew a problem which had destroyed others. This "outgrowing" revealed itself on further experience to be the raising of the level of consciousness. Some higher or wider interest arose on the person's horizon, and through this widening of his view, the insoluble problem lost its urgency. It was not solved logically on its own terms, but faded out in contrast to a new and stronger life-tendency. It was not repressed and made unconscious, but merely appeared in a different light, and so became different itself. What, on a lower level, had led to the wildest conflicts and to emotions full of panic, viewed from the higher level of the personality, now seemed like a storm in the valley seen from a high mountain top. This does not mean that the thunderstorm is robbed of its reality; it means that, instead of being in it, one is now above it.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Going back in time...to Radio Shack?

Henry wanted to paint Monday evening so we got everything out and these appeared. My favorite part was hearing him come up with names for his work.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

gush, gush

Here he is. My dearest dear. He's a five on the enneagram, he loves Pink Floyd and Mostly Autumn, he likes Frank's Quality Kraut, "Mennonite" sausage, raw kale, mustard greens and spinach, homemade ice cream and Liquorice Altoids. He can make pretty much anything out of Legos. This is a picture of what he likes to read.
Joel is a philosopher, a visionary, a darn good computer technician, and he's refraining from editing this post for accuracy. That, in itself, is a sign of his goodness as a person.

Ten years ago today I was sitting in Sermon on the Mount with Mary Schertz at Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary wondering how I would gracefully exit class (we had only told people at church he had a lump; not the wider seminary) to drive to Goshen with Joel to get the pathology report we had waited four days to hear. It was Easter Monday. We drove to Goshen, spent an hour and a half in the waiting room reading Conde Nast's Traveler or some such magazine, went into the tiny, dark consultation room at the surgeon's office and heard the news: lymphoma, probably Hodgkins, "What I want you to know is that this is treatable." All the same, I could scarcely cope. Stomach knot. Sweat. Oh God no.

Laughter came half an hour later when, once in the door, we checked our messages to hear Joel's dad's voice. "Just called to see how the autopsy report went..." [Then his mother's voice interrupting] "Autopsy! My God, Virge!" Then [nervous chuckle], "I mean biopsy report [more nervous chuckling]...well, anyway, give us a call when you find out."

That did it. "I'm not dead yet," came the response from Joel. That evening held many phone calls, pizza, visits from our pastors and friends. The next day (I think) the journey of testing and staging began, then twelve weeks (six sessions) of chemo and a month of radiation.

Ten years later we are the parents of Henry Daniel and so very grateful for these past ten years. Troubles come. Troubles may seem to stay. Suffering happens. But the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods with warm breast and ah! bright wings.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

art and music downtown

Few Want This
Libby Baumgartner, 2008

As my sister Libby's self-appointed publicist, I'm happy to announce that she will be the featured artist at Ten Thousand Villages on Thursday, April 24, 2008, 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. From 6:30 to 7:30 she'll assist you in creating your own collaged box. You can go here (click on the Newton Area Arts Council calendar of events) for more information. You can see another one of Libby's pieces here.

Friday, April 11, 2008

control and letting go

Prelude: Why do I blog? I do not fully understand. There is a piece of me that finds a settled place in sharing what's going on in my head and life with others. I like to think out loud in safe settings and this feels like a safe setting to me. Forgive me (and stop reading) if the following is too personal for your taste. Here is a symbol of what a safe space looks like for me. An image I see along my walking path.
I am not feeling securely anchored or centered in goodness these last few weeks. Many of my struggles revolve around the themes of controlling and letting go. The tax season has been stressful to me because, though our business has made a profit in its first year, it's not enough to support our family. I am afraid of losing this beautiful little life Joel and I have cultivated in the last year. I spend too much of my time bowing before the throne of some horrible god of fear, begging to keep what I love, fearing that it will be taken from me. As I've said already on this blog, it's also a poignant time of year for me because, on April 15, it will be ten years to the day that Joel was diagnosed with cancer. Ugh. I hate that word. Here he is, a healthy ten-year survivor of Hodgkins lymphoma, in classic Joel "middle - of - a - well - developed - thought" pose. I hope he won't be too angry at me for posting a pre-shower photo. Oh, I am so thankful for him!So I've been re-reading this book, which I bought for cheap twelve years ago in my bookstore days (so thankful for them, too).It took me a long time to read this book and I realize as I read parts of it again that it really shaped me during my seminary years. Here's just one of many quotations I find helpful.
[Jesus] insists on the universal need for forgiveness ...[and] seeks to return human beings to themselves, to their communities, and to God. No individual is too deeply alienated. ...[W]ithout forgiveness, ...we human beings are psychologically chained to the past. The drinking man continues to drink, the overeating woman continues to sneak food (could that be why I unwillingly ate a whole Toblerone bar yesterday?), the lying child continues to lie. Behavior becomes hidden, shame-filled, compulsive, driving the individual deeper and deeper into isolation, fear, and self-loathing. Out of control, we struggle to achieve control not only of ourselves but of others, lest they might see us for who we are. In response to our isolation, we lash out, take offense, find fault.
Nothing new here, but the book is a good reminder to me of how I want to be intentional about letting go of what binds and holding on to what gives life. And the present balance we have between work and play is something I dearly want to hold on to. May it be so.

This peace-filled site was shared with me recently. I found it to be moving and helpful in the continuing work of forgiving and letting go. And now it is time to go on a walk. Joel is sharing it with me this morning. What joy. Peace be with you as you do whatever letting-go work you want to be doing.

Monday, April 7, 2008

the anchors of life

What a wonderful day it has been: an opportunity to run, play and learn with Wichita independent homeschoolers and dear friends, a first-time visit to City Arts, a ride home with Aunt Libby, whose assemblage birthday gift to Aunt Becky makes me smile whenever I think of it.Here's another thing that makes me smile: two figurines in dialogue on my wardrobe. An annunciation, perhaps. Or maybe just a conversation. Two aspects of myself, both gifts from friends.
And, at the end of the day, tea with Joel...well, sort of. He's watching SCTV and I am blogging. But we're almost together in the same room, sipping tea.The teabag tag says, "Love, compassion and kindness are the anchors of life." I have received all three of these things today, along with a lot of joy. May these be your anchors.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

candles are lit

I'm feeling all full of pastoral care today--for myself and others--and offer this prayer of dedication (ever-so-slightly adapted) from A Wee Worship Book, Fourth Incarnation (pp. 63-64). If you're not familiar with this book, you can find it through any number of means, but I've included a link to the Iona community's website.

I will light a light in the name of the Maker, who lit the world and breathed the breath of life for me.

I will light a light in the name of the Son, who saved the world and stretched out his hand to me.

I will light a light in the name of the Spirit, who encompasses the world and blesses my soul with yearning.

I will light three lights for the trinity of love: God above us, God beside us, God beneath us; the beginning, the end, the everlasting One.

I have lit three candles here and you can find them (probably) by entering "bkb" in the group search box.

Blessings!