O Christmas Tree

My Facebook has been flooded with "thankfulness" posts for the past week. And while I love the reminder to be thankful, I also know what it's like to feel more darkness than joy this time of year. Sometimes you know there are many things to be grateful for, but there are also pains and worries and injustices that cut like a knife. Sometimes it's hard to find gratitude because the darkness seems to be closing in too quickly. Sometimes all you can feel is the cold.

That's why I love Christmas trees.

Last year, I was two months pregnant at this time. I was teaching full time, and the short, chilly days were catching up with me. Once the joyous Thanksgiving whirlwind died down, I just felt dark and lonely. I spent a lot of time at home alone while my husband coached in the evenings. I was more exhausted than I have ever been. There was so much uncertainty. There was so much to do--finishing up a semester, giving and grading exams, holiday gift buying and traveling. I was so tired.

And then we bought our Christmas tree. Though I could barely stumble out of bed some mornings, I would get up and plug in the lights. Then after school as the night fell and I dove into piles and piles of papers to grade, I plugged it in again. With those lights on, I felt wrapped in warmth and peace. I felt hope. The little ornaments--reminders of the past--glowed in the warm, yellow light. I remembered the yearly placing of those ornaments on the tree. I loved the visible portrayal of our marriage on that tree--of two sets of ornaments becoming one. More importantly, I was reminded of Advent--the Coming of Christ.

The little glimpse of hope a lit Christmas tree gives me that there will soon be time to rest, that I will soon be with family, that there are so many good and beautiful things in the world points to a much grander hope that Christ's coming brings.

As our pastor pointed out yesterday, Matthew begins and ends with the reminder that Jesus is God with us (Matthew 1:23, 28:20). He is ruler of all--even our pain and suffering are beneath him. And the lights of the Christmas tree and the joys connected with each ornament remind me of the Light of the world who comes to "make his blessings flow far as the curse is found."

It's now December 2. We are bombarded with Christmas on Facebook, on blogs, and all around us. This time of year isn't always an easy time. The days are dark and often cold. Time with family may bring more pain than joy. There's the realization of a year ending and all that wasn't accomplished.

But I look at the brightly lit tree with all its significant reminders, and I feel hope. Christ came and took all the pain and suffering and then placed it beneath him. There is promise that one day all will be made new.

Yesterday, our pastor talked about how Christ suffers death but in doing so, conquers it. Christ takes something that has conquered every human being, and he conquers even it. The pastor asked, "If He can make death a good thing, what can't He do?!" What a great reminder for me as I look at our tree, as I think of the joys and triumphs of the past years and all the ones before it, and as I look in hope to the future.

I love the Christmas season. As soon as Thanksgiving ends, I turn on the Christmas music. I love the decorations and the red cups at Starbucks and the Advent candles each week at church. But I generally try to keep our home and schedule simple. I try to spend lots of time soaking in the lights of the tree, delighting in the little things, and resting as I contemplate Christ's coming. Here are some resources for you as you try to do the same.

• In the evenings, we are reading John Piper's Good News of Great Joy. You can download it for free from the Desiring God website.

•  Our church gave printed copies of this guide years ago. I love going through it during Advent.

•  This blog post is a huge encouragement to not only moms but anyone who has great responsibility and busyness during the holidays. I love the advice that "If it makes you yell, it's a No. Every time." Good stuff!

• Savior is my all-time favorite CD of Christmas songs. After being together for six holiday seasons now, my husband gets just as excited as I do when I turn it on again (which I did for the first time while making this white chicken chili Saturday night)! Each song has a distinctive holiday feel and wonderful lyrics. If you want something fresh to listen to this season, give it a try! I think you can also get it from Amazon.

• On a more practical note, I am working on some of the ideas in this holiday declutter guide I found through The Art of Simple. Check it out for a saner holiday season. And at least we can check off our 2013 resolution to get more organized before it's too late.

Why I Still Don't Have a Holiday Banner

I am terrible at prioritizing. I used to think I was good at it, but here's what my perfectionistic self would do. I would spend time up front on the non-essentials first thereby forcing myself to still accomplish the essentials.

So if I was giving my students a test the next day in one class, I would save editing the test for last (because I had to get it done) and instead focus on putting extra touches on my PowerPoint for another class. Or if guests were coming to stay, I would first finish something non-essential-- deep cleaning, for example. Then I would still be forced to still pick up the clutter and clean the bathroom. But the problem was, I was constantly tired and stressed and tearfully completing the essential items with hardly any time left (if any at all).

But I have begun to practice some advice I heard when planning my wedding: choose what matters to you.

In the throes of finding vendors, a dress, and planning for life afterwards, I read a wedding article said to choose one to three things to spend the most time and your budget on. So, for example, if the dress is super important to you but you don't care as much to have dancing at the reception, focus your time and money on finding the perfect dress and skip the DJ. Or if you want beautiful pictures but don't care about flowers as much, splurge on a great photographer and keep the flowers simple.

This seemed hard at first--after all, there's pressure to have a certain type of wedding. I was scared to focus on certain parts and keep other parts simple. But it turned out to be an excellent decision. I spent money on the flowers, my dress, and reception food. Everything else was still wonderful and fell into place nicely.

Choosing and focusing has curbed by perfectionism--my idea that if it is worth doing at all, it's worth doing perfectly. I want to have a particular picture in my head pan out, but I'm learning to keep the picture simple and to make it look the way I want it to look rather than the way it could look at best.

Recently I pinned a beautiful holiday banner and hoped to make one for our upcoming Thanksgiving celebration with my husband's family. But there have been so many other things to do in preparation for holiday travel. The banner was not a priority. Instead, being well-rested, having stress-free packing, and taking care of food has been more important to me.

There's nothing wrong with beautiful banners, eye-catching wreaths, and a house the sparkles even in the hidden corners. But I have to learn to separate essentials from non-essentials. I have to do the best with the time I am given. Sometimes, I do have to take a break from all the cleaning and cooking t make that banner. Sometimes creating a beautiful centerpiece is higher on my list than folding laundry (after all, I can shut the laundry in the bedroom).

But I'm learning that if I am going to have any sanity at all, I have to decide up front what is a priority--what absolutely has to be done and just as important what should be done to add to my own mental sanity.

So as we gear up for our first holiday celebration this season, I am banner-less. But I think we have the essentials--food, clothes, cloth diapers. Our house isn't as clean as I would like it to be, but we're rested and happy, and I even had time to finish this post! Maybe a banner isn't too far in the future.

Grappling with the Will of God

My husband and I went for a walk last night, just the two of us. It was already dark out, and we had far-and-between street lights and a bright moon to guide us. We walked to one of our favorite coffee shops and then stopped by a school playground. The autumn air was delicious, and the longer we looked at the sky, the more stars appeared. We sat in the swings and talked, and that feeling I get a lot lately hit me. Home. Belonging. Peace.

When we first got married, we moved to a new state several hours from my hometown (and the same town where we went to college). We were getting married in June, and as we finished our courses in May, we began looking for teaching positions. One principal prayed during my interview, "Lord, close all the doors except the one you want them to walk through." And though so many doors seemed open, only one offered both of us a teaching position. So we walked through it.

The distance wasn't terrible, and I'm thankful for the two years we spent teaching at the same school and learning a new city--just the two of us. There are days that I feel a strong sense of longing for the little life we had there--our students, our favorite restaurants, our first apartment. We did hard work there on our marriage and on ourselves. But those two years were full of a lot of stress, confusion, and loneliness. Still, though many days I longed for the familiar, we knew it was where we were supposed to be.

When we found out we were pregnant last fall, another decision was simple: we would move back to our college town. My parents were there, we loved the city,  and it was where we had started and lived out much of our story as a couple. So we began to plan our move.

***********

God's will used to seem so hard for me to discern. I put relevant papers in front of me and prayed over them. I would fast. I would cry. I would read every book and Bible verse I could to discover what God's will was. I would search my heart to make sure I was ready to follow no matter the cost. I knew that God doesn't usually send an airplane across the sky with a message attached, but at the same time, that's what I was often looking for. Finding God's will seemed hard. And what if I ended up living outside of God's will?

But this decision lined up, just as our decision to move in the first place lined up. We were leaving a job situation that had become increasingly tense for both of us. We were leaving a city that was near neither of our families.  And we were gaining a supportive community--the friends we had made, our family, and a church we loved. It was about more than just feelings; it made logical sense. Our parents thought so. Our friends thought so. Even our principal thought so.

It is one of the biggest decisions we made, but it was also so simple. We knew it was time. So on a day in June, we packed up our apartment. I was thirty-five weeks pregnant, and we had no job that we were moving to. There were doubts as we wondered, "What have we done?" But we were having this baby in faith and moving in faith, trusting that God would provide.

Now several months later, I heard it whispered through those trees sheltering the playground: home. I saw the lights of our college in the distance. I saw the lights of our home with our baby safe inside being held by his grandma.

God provided and guided us through the whole move, just as He always has. Though we moved without a job, he provided my husband with short-term work and now a job he loves. Sometimes God's will isn't some mystery. In my experience, it's been asking simple questions with logical answers and moving forward in faith and trust and dependence. Sometimes it's easy to move forward; sometimes it is incredibly painful.

I think of the Proverb:

 The heart of man plans his way,

but the Lord establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

We plan; he establishes. We ask for wisdom and use the minds He has given us. Sometimes our plans fall to pieces, but that is just part of the establishing process. And our plans, which may be thin and frail, are always given to Him. And He puts the pieces together and makes them something beautiful. Like a walk in the dark with glowing lights that say home.

Pilgrim Sandals: What Does It Mean?

You may have noticed a change weeks ago when you typed in the old address for this blog (southerngirlhippie). You were redirected (hopefully!) to the new address: pilgrimsandals.wordpress.com. I want to take a minute to explain this change to you.

The new title comes from a phrase in my favorite poem. I discovered this poem in college. Denise Levertov's poetry takes my breath away because of the beauty and truth. This poem has stayed with me since as I first read it.

A Traveler

If it's chariots or sandals,

I'll take sandals.

I like the high prow of the chariot,

the daredevil speed, the wind

a quick tune you can't

quite catch

but I want to go

a long way

and I want to follow

paths where wheels deadlock.

And I don't want always

to be among gear and horses,

blood, foam, dust. I'd like

to wean myself from their strange allure.

I'll chance

the pilgrim sandals.

from Levertov, Denise. A Door in the Hive. New York: New Directions, 1989. Print.

When we moved to our first apartment, I created a collage on our wall centered around the word, walk (my patient husband had to hang each letter by multiple screws because of how they were created; we ended up with a wall that looked like we had been practicing darts when we moved).

I love to walk. I love hashing out life with a friend during a walk. I love ambling along while my thoughts do the same. I could walk and walk and walk.

In church on Sunday, the sermon was on Galatians 5 where we are commanded to "walk in the spirit." The pastor pointed out that the word for "walk" (in Greek: peripateo) figuratively means to live. My concordance says it can also mean follow.  I love both meanings.

Sometimes Scripture portrays faith as a race (Hebrews 12:1-3). I enjoy running, but it is nothing compared to the pleasure I get from walking. A race is intense and hard and rewarding--one good metaphor for the Christian life. But a walk is slow and steady--like a life. Plodding, trudging, skipping occasionally, sometimes sunny paths and sometimes difficult ones.

There are several striking comparisons between walking and faith.

Walking forces you to open your eyes. Once during a teaching internship in New York, a professor recommended that we walk up Broadway from Battery Park to 103rd Street where we were staying. It's an eye-opening experience to walk up Broadway because of the drastic change in each neighborhood. You go from poverty to riches and back again all through the walk.  [The group decided not to finish the walk a little over halfway; so now it's on my bucket list to complete the whole walk!].

At a walking pace you don't rush by the broken. you aren't disqualified by your own brokenness. Sometimes you limp. You are the good Samaritan and others are the good Samaritan to you. You have to look around and see because there is no blur as there might be if you ran.

Walking is the journey and the destination. When I taught The Canterbury Tales, we studied pilgrimage. Travelers would go to the same place (often the shrine of a saint) as a spiritual journey. These pilgrimages weren't just about the shrine, though. The journey also provided spiritual growth. It also provided community. In a walk there are times of conversation as you head toward a mutual goal. Walking provides time to stop and pause and talk. The journey and the destination that matter immensely.

Walking is messy, just like faith. Those "paths where wheels deadlock" are dirty, and our feet don't stay clean. We need the foot-washing from the Gospels. Our paths are unexpected; mine certainly have been. And we see that things are complicated; there isn't always a clear, paved path.

So I'm trying to find joy in these things. I compare my life more to a walk than a race. And I don't want to rush through or be enamored by the "strange allure" of the chariots.

This sets the tone for the blog in a way that just fits. I can't help but mix the practical posts with my other posts as I share my life in pilgrim sandals. When I started this blog shortly after I had my son, I wanted to focus on childbirth, motherhood, cloth diapering, and natural parenting.But this blog is about more than just those things. I want and need to write about faith, to write more about motherhood, and sometimes just to write. I hope to also share glimpses into my life--my passion for health (especially surrounding motherhood), my love for all things organizing, and the far-and-between projects I complete.

I love to walk, and I want to share my walk, my life, with you. So please continue to join me.

*The poem actually is formatted in a fascinating way, but I cannot get that format to reflect in the final post.

What I Do All Day

Before I became a stay-at-home mom, I always read about how stay-at-home moms often struggle to feel that what they do day to day is valid. I had read about the mommy wars. But I thought I was strong and wouldn't struggle. I doubted that other people were judging and commenting as much as many stay-at-home moms implied that they were.

Then I got my initiation comment: "So what do you do all day?"

I froze. The wheels in my mind started spinning, but I couldn't think of an answer. "Mostly I just take care of Liam," I mumbled.

"Yeah, those moms who work must be supermoms!" she said.

It was okay; I knew I wasn't supermom. I shrugged it off, telling myself that what I do is important, that being a working mom is hard but being a stay-at-home mom is challenging, too. I told myself I didn't need to be affirmed; I was strong.

But I wasn't. It popped into my head for weeks and at all points during the day:

What DO I do all day?

Why wasn't the house cleaner when my husband came home? Why did going on a walk feel like such a success? Why was it a circus act of singing and toys to get a shower? Why was dinner never on the table at a reasonable time? After all, this homemaking thing was my job, and I wasn't even doing it.

I'm sure these doubts have come through in many posts. New motherhood for any mother is a tremendous time of change and doubt. There are so many decisions, so many internal battles, so much advice and so many comments.

I don't have an answer. I wonder what I am doing many days. More specifically, I wonder what I am doing wrong. When I pictured being a stay-at-home mom, I thought an organized house, dinner on the table, a clean kitchen, a smiling baby, and days filled with more than enough time.

Instead I am up multiple times most nights. Naps are just starting to fall into place, but they are still rarely longer than 45 minutes. My husband has to take care of the baby so I can finish dinner almost every night. I rely on my mom's help so much. I was okay with this when I had a two-month-old, but I thought that by four months we would have it.

What do I do all day?

It's amazing how much our expectations--and the expectations of others--can make us doubt. They can lead to confusion, disappointment, even depression and anger. I expected I could get more done. I expected it would be fairly easy--that it would be a challenge I could meet. But it's not. And when something gets in the way of my expectations (a day of fussing, a missed nap, an unexpected errand), I feel cheated and bitter.

So I'm learning to hold my expectations for each day loosely. Some days like today, we wake up and play. Naps go smoothly (though they are short), and I have time to clean a little, to fix myself up. I have energy to interact with my baby and what feels like endless creativity and patience to deal with any fussiness. Then other days are like yesterday. The fussy times were long. The clock we forgot to change made me hopeful that my husband would be home in half an hour, and when I realized it was an hour and a half instead, I felt like I was dying a little inside.

I'm learning to accept this steep leaning curve. I don't plan to get a lot done. I plan to do major things: to get dressed, to make the bed, to tidy up after our messes, to eat (healthily), to love my husband, and to play with and love my boy. Then the other stuff? If it gets done, it gets done. Otherwise it is okay. IT IS OKAY.

What do I do all day?

 I don't have a romanticized answer. It's hard to feel that it matters--to feel like I am doing it right and in the best way possible. But I will also tell you that it doesn't feel like drudgery. Yes, there are moments when I wonder whether I actually have to change one.more.diaper, but when I don't let expectations (mine of those of others) get in the way, I truly love this time with my son. It is already flying by.

I don't always know what I get done in a day. Honestly it's not always that much. But I know that my work is good and important, and even on the hard days, I really do love it. And that's the answer. What do I do all day? I work, I rest, I pray, I plan, I mess up, I love. I cling to the words in Deuteronomy (Moses' blessing on Asher):

"... and as your days, so shall your strength be." (Deuteronomy 33:25b)

I am not supermom, but I am given incredible strength and grace beyond anything I could have imagined or expected.

This post was fairly healing to me!

My New Approach to Parenting

It would be so nice if there was a fool-proof, 100% successful approach to everything we do in life--parenting, marriage, jobs, health, faith, etc. However, I learned that such a guide does not exist through my dating days.

I knew that with my struggle with non-fiction "growth" books, I might ruin early motherhood if I read a lot of books. So I read relatively few parenting books (really only one practical one which I regret ever reading and have slowly tried to forget entirely).  However, I did way too much Google research. And between that and the book I did read, I became a bit discouraged about how things were working for us. Why wasn't my baby sleeping through the night? Had I created sleep crutches? Why was he crying for an hour or so every evening inconsolably? Was he eating too often?

I finally discovered that there were two important questions: Was Liam happy and healthy? Was I happy and healthy? If the answer to both was yes, then why fix something? I stopped researching and reading and worrying. When I did research, it was just to get ideas, not to try to find a full approach to follow.

Recently, I have re-discovered the Montessori approach to education. My brother attended a Montessori school for a few years, and I fell in love with the ideas and structure. I didn't realize, though, that Montessori also focuses on the development of infants. Maria Montessori made some incredible discoveries and observations about how humans learn, grow, and develop. And her ideas have helped me resolve major tensions in many parenting approaches.

Much of Christian parenting philosophy tends to present the child as totally depraved. I have shared this idea before. While I agree that total depravity represents an important idea--that without Christ we have no hope--we have often taken it too far. Because this is the foundation, Christian parenting philosophy often focuses on bending the child's will, teaching obedience (after all, how will she obey God if she doesn't obey you?) and turning practical issues into fully spiritual issues (eating, sleeping, etc.). In much Christian parenting philosophy, there is a harshness and intensity that does not seem appropriate.  

In addition, most parenting advice tends to focus on making the child fit neatly and as.soon.as.possible into your life. That just wasn't working for us. Liam wasn't a cute, tidy little addition to our lives. This was clear from the early weeks of nausea and my constant need for naps throughout pregnancy. To use a Christian phrase, I was dying to myself to grow and birth this child. How could that change dramatically once he entered the world? (It didn't!)

So Montessori has been a refreshing re-discovery for me. I am not learning about trying to get Liam eating and sleeping in a way that benefits me as soon as possible. I'm not overwhelmed with information about crying it out and sleeping through the night. Rather the focus is on helping him grow and develop into the best human he can be. It's about not focusing on the total depravity but on the God-given characteristics he has--creativity, a desire for relationships, the potential for language, and many others. It's about helping these unfold.

And my favorite part? Montessori, like many parenting philosophies, focuses on independence. However, this independence is not for the sake of adults. It's not to make my life easier. It's so Liam can have the richest, fullest life possible. It requires much more effort on my part to help him be independent, but it will help him grow into a happier, more human adult.

So during the day, instead of stressing over naps (or lack thereof) or trying to stretch his feedings, I am focusing on creating an environment that helps him grow. I am researching toys that develop skills and how to set up his nursery in a way that encourages his development. I am reading to him and playing little games with him and giving him time alone to explore.

So far, I have found two helpful books.

The Joyful Child was a wonderful read and showed how Montessori applies across the globe (across cultures, economic status, and family traditions). It deals with the first year and creating an environment that helps the child learn to roll, sit, crawl, and walk and use his hands. It gives ideas for the older child (ages 1-3) as far as helping children learn to feed themselves and dress themselves.

My current read is Montessori from the Start: The Child at Home, from Birth to Age Three. So far, I am three chapters in. I have enjoyed the explanation of Maria Montessori's approach and ideas. It is a great book full of theoretical and practical ideas. I plan to review it more when I finish it.

While I don't think any one approach is entirely perfect, I do think many of Montessori's ideas ring true with my experiences as a child, my teaching experience, and now my experience as a parent. I can't wait to share more about it over the coming weeks, including Liam's Montessori-inspired nursery makeover.

The Secret to Perfect Oatmeal

On Sunday morning, Liam and I woke up early and decided to make breakfast. I had been wanting oatmeal, and though we usually have baked oatmeal, I decided just to make regular oats. When looking up the oat-water ratio (I think I have a mental block; I can never keep these straight for rice, oatmeal, barley, etc.), I found this recipe and discovered the secret to perfect oatmeal. Drumroll, please...

Yes, vanilla. It adds a delicious flavor and is perfect for fall. There's nothing like a big bowl of warm oatmeal on an autumn day, and these additions all push it over the top with very little extra effort. Feel free to modify it as you like. I made it again for lunch recently. The picture is kind of blurry; that comes from having a cute (but fussing) baby in my lap while trying to take a picture (and probably some hand shake from being so hungry!). I'll write the recipe as I modified it below, but the majority of it comes from here.

Perfect Oatmeal

1 c. oatmeal

1 c. water

1 c. milk (I actually was out of milk and had to use 1/2 c. half and half and 1/2 c. water here)

A handful of raisins

1-2 tsp. vanilla

1-2 tsp. cinnamon

Salt to taste

2-3 Tbsp. sucanat (you could also use sugar or honey)*

2 Tbsp. butter (totally optional)

Walnuts (for topping, optional)

Instructions

1. Pour the oatmeal, water, and milk into a saucepan over medium-high heat.

2. Drop in a handful of raisins.

3. Stir occasionally. It will start to bubble and thicken fairly quickly. When it does, leave it on the heat stirring frequently until it reaches the consistency you like. Then remove from heat (probably no more than 5-6 minutes).

3. Add the cinnamon, sucanat, salt (to taste), and vanilla. I also added butter at this point.

4. Spoon into bowls. Sprinkle some walnuts on top if you desire. Serve with buttered toast and enjoy.

Later in the week we made it with bananas per the recommendation from the original recipe. It was delicious.

*I use sucanat in all of my recipes as a sugar substitute. It is dehydrated cane juice, and remains closer to the original form than table sugar. It also adds a richness to recipes, especially chocolate chip cookies. We get ours from a small health food store fairly inexpensively. I found two examples of sucanat: here and here

If you need a dinner option, my favorite dinner recipe of all time is this Grilled Chicken with Barley Corn Salad. My sister brought this to us the day after we came home from the hospital. Don't skimp on the bacon!