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Bloom Season

Spring is here. Where I live, spring is basically summer, but still. It is the season for blooms. In the several pots on my deck and patio, flowers are blooming. Some have just begun to show their colors after the cold (all right, cool) weather, and others are fading now that the heat is kicking in. One planter in particular is preparing to showcase a blaze of color within the next few days: in it are a gerbera daisy and a geranium side-by-side, their blooms to be deep orange and hot pink. These plants came through the winter, to my surprise, and I am excited to see their little buds and the small beginnings of petals.

Enter my daughters, nearly-four and one. They have a wading pool on the deck. They have a hose with gushing water. They have buckets. Do they want to play with these things? No. They want to pick flowers. 

At first, I ask them not to. What a reasonable request, right? The few blooms on the geranium are gone within about three trips of my one-year-old from the plant to the pool, where she is dropping the flowers one at a time into the water. They look pretty when they float. My last hope is the buds on the geranium that haven't started to open yet (they aren't showing any pink, so maybe my daughters won't see them). The single bloom on the gerbera daisy, I know, is doomed.

The gerbera daisy has a blooming pattern that I have found requires patience. It produces about one to three flowers at a time, and each bud takes what seems a painstakingly long amount of time to open completely. Once the blooms open, they remain for a while, making them worth the wait, but when they fall, there is a long period of waiting again before the next round of blooms appears.

On my daisy plant now is a single bloom that has barely begun its work: tiny petals extend from the center, pale orange and narrow, like squat embroidery needles. I know that in a few days' time, the petals will stretch, unfold, and deepen to their full orange color. I am looking forward to seeing the flower. But my children do not understand this expectation.

I try to explain it to my older girl. Maybe she can understand, but she doesn't seem very interested. She's more interested in the here-and-now (I can't blame her; she's only almost four). She is learning to be patient, but she would rather pluck the flower now, early, to play with it, than wait for it to bloom fully. 

In my frustration at the loss of most of my blooms and potential blooms, I have a choice: I can get upset, yell, and sweep the girls up and take them inside, ending play time with the fury of my dragon-mom fiery wrath (dragon-mom is a real thing), or I can patiently let the children be children. They are exploring. They want to enjoy examining the flowers, picking each petal off and feeling it in their fingers. They want to see how the petals look in the water. They want to play with pretty things. Their actions are not malicious. 

As I sit in the lawn chair, trying to enjoy the outside play time as much as my daughters apparently are, I remember words from Paul David Tripp's Parenting, the book I'm reading with my care group right now. He asks, "Do physical things get in the way of, or create needless tension in, your parenting?" I take a deep breath and look at the flowers. They are, indeed, physical things. They are objects, not people. My daughters are much more valuable than the orange and pink blooms. I can relax. This summer, the world will not come to an end, even if every single bloom is plucked early from my plants. And I doubt even my industrious children could manage that feat.

My children are learning patience, and so am I. Tripp writes that "[i]n every moment as you are parenting your children, the heavenly Father is parenting you." I need to hear this truth: I need God as my parent every bit as much as my children need me as a parent (I suppose even more so). God is teaching me to be patient and gracious with my children, and I am a slow learner. He reminds me here on the deck, as my girls pluck flowers, that the true blooms to wait for are not growing in planters. They are running around naked in the backyard; they are little now, but will be grown-up some day (sooner than I imagine), their deepest, brightest colors yet to be seen.

Petals plucked and dropped on the dirt in the pot.

When What You Have to Work with Is a Tangled Mess

I've been knitting a lot lately. Sometimes the yarn runs smoothly from the center of the skein, like it's supposed to. But sometimes, the dreaded tangle appears. It may be small at first, just a tiny snag in the straight line of yarn, but usually at such a warning sign I sigh in frustration. I know what is coming: a tangled mess that interferes with my serene knitting experience. It takes more time to clear up the tangles and get a length of workable yarn than I end up spending on the knitting itself. By the time my brief window of free time is over (during my children's afternoon naps), I've worked my fingertips sore trying to loosen cotton yarn from its matted knots and probably knitted about three rows.

The tangled mess experience teaches me patience, I suppose, sort of like sitting in traffic. Though I feel like I'm getting nowhere, I know that in reality I'm getting closer to my destination. In the car, crawling along at 25 mph on the highway, I am still facing the right direction. I'll get there sooner or (in this case) later. Loosening the tangled yarn, I know I'm freeing the strand I need to finish my project. I just have to let the project take more time than I had anticipated.

Knitting and detangling yarn is like investing in a relationship; let's say a marriage. The yarn you're using is the yarn you have. You already bought it and you've tied it in little looping knots onto your needles. You've committed to it and you've already put some amount of work into completing the desired object when the tangle appears. That tangle stops you in your work and you face a choice: work at undoing the tangle so you can keep going, or cut your losses and start over with a different skein. I've personally done both. With knitting, the stakes are pretty low, in terms of cost: a skein of yarn is pretty cheap. But with relationships, the cost is higher: the value of a person cannot be measured.

In marriage, you've already committed to a person, through vows and through building life together to some extent before tangles appear. Your spouse is knitted to you and your two lines of yarn are now inextricable. All people have tangles (both spouses have nasty knots that will appear at some point). The question is whether to work on the tangles or to cut the yarn and lose the work you've already put into your pattern. The two of you together form a knitted project, and you build it stitch by stitch one day, one decision, one meal, one conversation at a time.

You can't cut off the person you've tied yourself to or all of your hard work will be lost. You can be assured that any other person with whom you might start again will have tangles, just like this one. The two of you must stop in the midst of whatever work you're doing and untie the knots together. It might feel like a waste of time. You may think you're not making any progress. But if your project, the pattern the two of you are building through your whole lives, is ever to be completed, you have to take the time to face problems and work on fixing them.

Marriage is good at showing the tangles of our lives, our personal messes and failures, and forcing us to stop and sort them before going on. It feels slow. It feels tedious and painful. But it's worth doing because the very fibers we need to complete our work are hidden in that mess. We just have to free them.

My current mess.

Special note:
I have seen, through the example of someone close to me, a time when a marriage cannot go on and the yarn has to be cut. I will simply say this: a marriage involves two people and it requires both to willingly remain in order for it to continue.

How to Survive Your Cold (and Enjoy It, Too)

The cold and flu season is in full swing. Where I live, close to the Texas Hill Country, it has also been the season for cedar pollen, leading to what for many is comparable to getting a severe cold or even flu-like symptoms, called around here "cedar fever." The dreaded pollen can cause such terrible allergies that last and last until finally they develop into sinus infections, fevers, sore throats, coughing, congestion that blocks ears: the works.

As I battled with my most recent bout of the cedar fever, a sinus infection, and took care of my two young daughters, who also had fevers and runny noses, I struggled to keep a positive attitude. When everything was sore and two small children were cranky for days (and nights!) on end, who could really blame me? Well, the truth is that it would have helped my family and me to survive the sickness without all the grumpiness if I had simply practiced thankfulness. Wait, thankfulness? For infections? Yes. Thankfulness, even for infections.

According to research, as discussed by Amy Morin in Psychology Today, practicing thankfulness has been shown to improve mental, psychological, emotional, and even physical health. Clearly it is in our best interest to try gratefulness in place of grumbling. However, what about a cold is there to be grateful for?

This is where a bit of discipline and creative thinking come into play. In 1000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp argues that thankfulness is at times a sacrifice. In other words, it's hard to do, but worth the challenge. I've written more in-depth about the sacrifice of thanksgiving elsewhere, and giving thanks through difficult circumstances is on my mind a lot. Though it takes self-control to give thanks instead of gripe, I can think of several ways I could (at least in theory!) give thanks for sickness.

When I'm sick, I try to slow down and let my body rest as much as possible. I can be thankful for the slower schedule, even though it might be forced on me against my will. If I have a chance, I can even take a hot bath (the steam is great for congestion!) and relax a bit, maybe with a drop or two of eucalyptus essential oil to add an invigorating scent that reportedly helps clear congestion. When my kids are napping, I can nap. I can be thankful for yummy, hot soup (maybe my husband will bring me pho!). Trying to find small things to enjoy during a cold is one way to be thankful.

More importantly, perhaps, getting sick reminds me that I am not in control of my own health, ultimately. Yes, I can control the food I eat, my exercise, and - to some extent, being a mom of littles - how much sleep I get. But I cannot stop myself from getting a cold, no matter how many elderberry gummies I chew per day. God takes the opportunity when I get sick to remind me that I am frail. Yet despite the frailty and relative lack of importance of my life (considering by comparison God, the maker of the universe), He still cares for me intimately. My motherhood matters. My personal dreams and goals matter. My health matters to Him, who showed compassion for the sick when He walked the earth (and still does today). When I'm sick, it is easier to see both how small I am and also how my simple, small life matters to God. After all, the little things stand out more to me when I'm sick: the taste of soup, the feeling of a hot bath, the smell of eucalyptus, even being able to breathe! All of these little things are gifts from a God who created my body and said it was good.

So, I can try to be thankful, though it's not easy, when sickness strikes. And when it's through, I can be thankful again that I have a healthy body. Sick or healthy, life itself is such a gift!

Five Date Ideas for the Non-Romantic

My husband and I have vastly different expectations when it comes to dating each other. We agree it's important to keep the spark of romantic love alive in our marriage, but the question of how to go about it meets different and sometimes conflicting attitudes from the two of us. If you're in a relationship anything like ours, you know that it can be a challenge to find new and exciting date ideas when one of you wants to go dancing, paint together, or try one of those date-at-home boxes, and the other claims he would rather eat his own toenails than try any of that romantic, "cheesy" stuff.

Though we have disparate tastes, we both want the same things from our dates: to enjoy each other and to strengthen our marriage. Through the years of testing date ideas, we have found a few winners. These activities have enriched our relationship through everything from laughter and teamwork to deep philosophical conversations, and they pass the "non-mushy" test to please the sensible-minded while still meeting the need for connection time to satisfy the hopeless romantic. If you are looking for something to freshen your relationship other than the go-to dinner and a movie routine, consider these alternate date ideas. Since my husband and I have two small kids, these activities have the added benefits of being relatively inexpensive (or free) and not requiring that you hire a babysitter; you don't have to leave the house (unless you want to).

1. Cribbage and Coffee
Break out this old-fashioned and charming card game, brush up on your addition skills, and race your peg around the track to get to the finish line first. Sip on your favorite beverage and let the conversation flow naturally as you both get the hang of the game. My husband and I spent many dates playing cribbage when we were engaged. It's the perfect balance of skill and luck of the draw, so it doesn't get too competitive (great if one of you doesn't enjoy playing games unless he's winning).

2. Cooperative Games
If newer, multi-faceted board games are more your thing, try a cooperative game in which you two must work together to win. The benefit of these games is the fact that you get to strategize with your partner instead of plotting secretly as in most traditional games. You might just find some new strengths as a couple while you take risks and compromise in order to beat the game. Our favorites are the pleasingly-complex Pandemic (save humanity from rampaging diseases) and the simpler, fantasy-infused Forbidden Island (rescue treasures from an island before you sink). An added bonus of gameplay: our discussion naturally centers on the game, saving us from figuring out how to stop talking about work and the kids.

3. Listen to the Radio
If you're into podcasts, share a favorite with your spouse. Spending time appreciating something that the other person enjoys can increase the depth of your understanding of him or her. For a fun alternative, try listening to an old radio show, such as mystery theater from CBS Radio Mystery Theater. One advantage of listening to the radio or a podcast is that listening allows you to feel more present with each other than if you were watching a show. As Gary Chapman suggests in The Five Love Languages, "It isn't enough to just be in the same room with someone. A key ingredient in giving your spouse quality time is giving them focused attention . . . the activity in which [you] are both engaged is incidental." Even though you might still sit on the couch to listen to the radio, you might find you enjoy being able to look at each other instead of the screen as your individual responses to the story become part of the experience (a win for those of us more romantically inclined, or those whose love language is spending quality time).

4. Read Aloud
If you enjoy podcasts and radio, take your date one step further and read aloud to each other. One of the benefits of this activity is that it can take as little or as much time as you want to spend, since you can always find a good stopping point in a book and come back to it later. You may even find yourself looking forward to the next installment on your next date (no extra date planning required!). Since these dates need to suit those who may not be interested in the romantic comedies of the book world (i.e. Jane Austen), here are a few recommendations my husband and I have both enjoyed:

• If you're a fan of biographies, try Amazing Grace by Eric Metaxas, which recounts the story of William Wilberforce, English politician and, most famously, champion of ending the slave trade in Britain. He also, however, worked to end animal cruelty and revive morality. My husband and I were challenged and inspired by this read.
• If you're into fiction, try A Separate Peace by John Knowles. A haunting and exquisitely written story about friendship and loyalty set against the backdrop of the second world war, this book is aimed at younger readers yet presents themes worth exploring at any age. It sparked lively conversation between my husband and me.
• If you love poetry, break away from Shakespeare's sonnets and read some A. E. Housman poems (hubby's favorite) for their driving rhythm and rhyme schemes and for their darkly cynical, yet stolid view of the world. Check out the collection A Shropshire Lad; the less-romantically-inclined will not balk at these poems, and the two of you can relish in challenging your own view of the world when you discuss them. Is your view more positive than Housman's? For a completely different approach, try reading some Gerard Manley Hopkins poetry (my favorite). Full of exuberant life, these poems will engage your imagination and set you thinking about the beauty of nature, but not romantic love (win!). For a start, look up "As Kingfishers Catch Fire," "God's Grandeur," "Pied Beauty," or "Spring."

5. DIY Fondue
Using materials you might already have around the house, make your own fondue snack as a date activity by itself or to accompany one of the other ideas here. Light a few tea light candles and place them on a safe surface. Position a simple wire basket upside-down over the flames and put a small ramekin full of your favorite chocolate chips on top. The heat from the candles will gently melt the chocolate. Use skewers or toothpicks to dip goodies into the chocolate. Try marshmallows, cookies, fruits, and pretzels (all cut or broken into small bite-sized pieces). Everyone, romantic or not, loves a snack!

However you date, keep an open mind and be willing to try new things. If you are the romantic one in the relationship, take the pressure off of your spouse and do all the planning. Your spouse will likely appreciate your effort and be willing to go along for the ride. Either way, the most important ingredient in a successful date is the fact that the two of you are experiencing something together, right? Shared memories can help strengthen the foundation for your relationship (even if you end up laughing over them!).

Slow Down When Sick

Popcorn
Thunderheads fill my bowl. Whole
Skies of storms, many nights'
Worth - an epic flood's worth - sit
Still, waiting to be plucked
One handful at a time for Mom.
For R.J., they're removed singly and
Given names (her game):
Juliet, Jeremiah, James (not
Stormy or ominous). I bite
The tops off of the biggest
Clouds so S.L. can eat them; food
For a baby with no sharp bits. The
Soft puffy insides start to dissolve
Like snow in my warm mouth.

Heat expanded air and moisture,
Forced particles to burgeon outward into
Bulbous mounds larger than
Mountains - smaller than
Hailstones.

Popcorn Cloud

 Apple
I'd always heard it was a star, but
No: a tiny flower hides inside the
Core of the apple I'm eating. A sculptor
Cast a lily in wax, pulled out the delicate
Petals, and left behind an empty
Cream-colored impression wherein dark,
Fertile seeds rest encased. My thin knife has
Slid through the crack in the
Door and unbolted the lock: now
They fall with gentle clicks
Onto my cutting board.

Apple Flower