Thinking "Green"

I always seem to start out my posts apologizing about how long it has been. I have posted in my mind a bunch of times since the last one, it's just that you never got to read them. I am not sure what finally propels me to sit down and write. Once I figure that out I will be much better. But for today, here is what is on my mind.
This fall we at the Gomes house (meaning me) have decided to try to do things a bit more organically. From our food to our household and personal products I am trying to switch over to products that I can understand most of the ingredients of and that I am assured are a bit more safe for my kids to use and consume. As I was driving home from the grocery store today pondering over what I bought and also what I couldn't afford someone came to my mind that I wanted to pay homage to today.
When I was in the 4th grade my family moved from one area of Billings Montana to another area of that same town. This meant for me a different school and different schedules for my parents. During the summer before school started my Mom found a daycare provider for my after school hours that was within walking distance of the school. Her name was Toby Green. She was a beautiful woman in spirit and in looks. She did daycare out of her home which now I realize was actually pretty small considering the number of us that were there. She had a basement that magically turned into whatever setting we chose for that particular day for our specific imagination. She had a huge tree with a tire swing and her backyard butted up against an alley (which was the sight of my first ever "flashing" experience, remind me to tell you the story if I haven't before).
The reason all of this came to my mind today in particular is because I was wondering if I could get my kids to eat real whole wheat waffles or pancakes. When I was just a bit older than Emma I was eating breakfast at Toby's house. Toby's specialty was buckwheat pineapple pancakes. With honey. You see, Toby Green was way ahead of me on the whole organic health food thing. She juiced carrots with a big huge silver machine that I remember taking up the whole kitchen counter. As kids instead of sneaking candy from her cupboards we would sneak chewable vitamin C tablets. They tasted sooo good and I have yet to find their equal. We always played so hard, using only our imaginations and the toys at hand. I know she must have had a TV but I can't remember ever watching it. I am so grateful for those experiences with her. I could write for days about them and their uniqueness. She had lost all of the toes on one foot and wore a prosthetic slipper that looked like a foot with painted toenails and all. She wore it with her Birkenstocks. I still don't know what caused that, I just accepted it as part of who she was. Kids are like that. She used to load up all of us in the back of her suburban with no seats or seatbelts (before the law changed) and take us through the drive through at Burger King (so not always organic!). Then she would take us to museums and hiking trails and picnic areas. I was with her daily for three years and then visited off and on for at least a year after that. When I became old enough I babysat her kids. She was my friend.
When we moved back to Oregon from Montana our last stop was her house to say good-bye. I tear up even now thinking about it. She gave me a letter that I wasn't allowed to open until we reached Idaho. I still have it. It's beautiful just like she is. I have lost touch with her. She married a wonderful man shortly after I left and I can't remember his last name. I do however remember the address of the house that I walked to so many times and I remember what her phone number was. Isn't that crazy? I actually looked at the house not too long ago using Google maps and satellites. For at least 20 years after we left I had a dream at least once every six months that I was back in Billings and was going to get to see her. Every time I had the dream I just knew that this time it was real. Sadly it never was. Those dreams have started to fade and I have them less often now but she is never really far from my mind. I wish I could call her and get the recipe for those buckwheat pineapple pancakes.

I may not know where I am going, but I know where I've been

I know I said that my Nebraska pictures would be my next post but tonight God did something for me and I am compelled to share it.
A little over a month ago, just when I thought facebook could not bring me any more blasts from my past, I got a friend request from Julie. I was thrilled. Julie and I were friends in middle school and high school and although I had seen her at our reunion we had lost touch since. We made a date to get our kids together to play at a park, allowing us to catch up. We had so much to talk about that we ran out of time and promised to get together without kids as soon as we were both back from vacation. Tonight we met for dinner in Salem. Julie brought notes from high school that the two of us had written. Oh my. I picked up the first one and could only get through the first paragraph. It was too painful and funny at the same time! There was my handwriting, my "i"s dotted with circles, leading off the notes with "howz it going" and ending them with "I gotta jam". There were many "BFF"s in there as well. As the meal went on I was able to read a few more and Julie and I helped each other (mostly her helping me even though I had written most of the notes) in remembering the last name of the people that we were writing about that were so important at the time that we didn't have to include their last name. It is a wonder that I learned anything in class since some of the notes were almost novels. I would say that they were about 95% about boys and 3% about clothes and 2% about food. They were folded in every creative way that you can imagine. I was taken with how direct and brutally honest I was back then. I was also tickled to see what I considered a crisis to be. Julie reminded me of things I had long forgotten. Things that I had done and said that only she would have remembered. This might not seem like an extraordinary meeting to you, and on the surface I guess it wasn't. But see, this summer I have been wondering and asking the Lord a lot about where I am going. What He has for me and when He has it. I am in a waiting time that is rich but also a little scary and disheartening. God is good. God is the ruler of the universe. God does not owe me an answer to my questions. But God loves me and He is creative in His communication with me. Tonight He did not anwer the question of where I am going but He did graciously show me where I have been. I met myself to some extent in the pages of those notes and in my remembering with Julie. In one of the notes I had even written her some scripture, which sounds really mature until you read what it says in the rest of the note! Julie took me back to a different time and in all of the stories that we talked about I can see God's hand. In catching up with each other about what has happened since we last really talked I see a glimpse of the journey. Julie has known me for 21 years. She was there for some of the greatest moments of my young life and she listened to me and supported me through some of my very lowest moments as well. I was thanking God for that on my way home and recognizing His hand in bringing her back into my life (He can even use facebook!), when I realized that as many times as Julie was there for me, so was Jesus. Julie was there for the aftermath of poor decisions or glorious joys, but Jesus was on the scene before she got there and long after my conversation with her had ended. He saw it all. Julie knew me back then. Jesus knew me long before then. Somehow that gave me great comfort. Because He gave me a chance to recount His faithfulness to me in the past, I am able to relax a little about the future.
There is one more thing though, that really touched me tonight. I enjoyed my time with Julie so much because even though it has been years since we spent regular time together I feel like she really knows me. Warts and all. And there is something amazing about being known. Tonight in these quiet moments that I am writing God had impressed upon me how well I am known by Him. It is an intimate, thrilling feeling to me. It is a feeling that my spirit can recline in and find rest. He knew me then, He loved me then, He guided me then. I know He is doing the same now.

July of Fun part one

I am going to attempt to put some pictures of our July adventures on here. Many months ago I quit posting pictures because my computer was a dinosaur and it took forever. Now I have a new sleek laptop and I am feeling lucky. In case I can't label the pics individually we went to Sunriver with our great friends the Jones'. I could do a post on my buddy Brett Michael Jones alone, much less his Mom, my roommate from college and the only one with a coffee addiction just exactly like mine. We had an awesome time together and as always I was sad to see it end. Stay tuned for pictures from our trip to Nebraska!

I probably shouldn't operate heavy equipment

O.K. I just had to post this because I know there is someone out there who can relate. For some hormonal reason I am sure, my mood swings today have been nothing short of vast and varied! To give you some background, I spent the day yesterday at a "progressive memorial service" for my Mom's cousin Donna. She was more like an aunt to both my Mom and I and 12 weeks ago she was diagnosed with lung cancer. It took her quickly but peacefully. So we started at our family cemetery, which is beautiful, then headed to the Santiam golf course for a celebration of life that included over 300 people, then we ended the day back at Fritz and Donna's house where we served a meal for about 35 family and friends.During the course of the meal I got a text from a family member with some worrying health concerns, and I was already looking for updates on a family friend who had suffered a serious heart attack Thursday night. So I am already tired when I get up today to make a fruit salad and head over to the church for our women's breakfast. My mood was pretty gray until I arrived at the church and had a wonderful friend pray for me (thanks Candi), then my mood was bright and much more peaceful. Our speaker for the breakfast did such an amazing job that my mood shifted into immense gratitiude for God and His creation. Then I left the breakfast and by the time I had driven to Jo Dancer park for the last half of Emma's game my mood was irritated that I had to carry the chairs all by myself all the way to the field etc. It further chapped me that I was so hot. They won the game and that made my mood happy and proud. I got home and made lunch and sat down to watch tennis (which always makes me happy) but then I zoned out, remembered how tired I was and the concern over my family member's health and my mood quickly turned to self pity. All I wanted to do was cry and take a nap. That didn't last long though because we had to head to Kaden's last game of the season. During the game I didn't really pay attention to my mood, I was too distracted by how hot I was but also how cute those T-ballers were! So now I am home and trying to catch up on all my chores that have piled up the last few days (Jarv has kept the house up great, I just needed to organize my own stuff). As I was loading the dishwasher I was overcome with love for my family and really pride in my Mom. The last 12 weeks of Donna's life she made herself available for whatever needed to be done. She cooked, she cleaned, she sat and listened, she gave wise counsel, and she was presest for all until the very end and the first few days of Donna's absence. I want to be just like her when I grow up. So, now my mood is making me want to send her a card. It also is making me want to send all of you cards. I just love everyone! Isn't that a bizarre spectrum of emotions for one day? I am not pregnant and not yet menopausal or pre-menopausal. Tell me I am not alone. Does this happen to anyone else? I wish I could say it was the first time but it's not. Plus, I only hit the big emotions of the day, there were a hundred more subtle ones in between the big ones. Honestly, it's a good thing I am not making any major decisions today! And as the title suggests I probably shoudn't operate any heavy equipment . . . .

In the shadow

Well, I am finally here, finally writing this blog post that has been on my mind for the past two weeks. I can't tell you how many blog posts I have composed in my head that never make it to the screen. I assumed that this one would be no different. Except it is, because God won't let it drop. He keeps bringing it up. Which means there is a reason that I am suppose to share it, no matter how vulnerable it makes me feel. I want to honor Him with it. Here goes . .
Sundays are hard for me. Or, this past year they have been hard. I don't have a reason for this, I just know that it has been a fairly consistent pattern. Maybe I am tired after a busy week and a late Saturday night, or maybe the devil just knows that Sundays are church and great worship and great teaching and he wants to distract me. Personally I think that is it. Last Sunday was one of those tough Sundays. I woke up with what just felt like a heavy heart. My emotions seemed to turn on me in my sleep and everything in the getting ready for church process felt like it took twice as much effort. Then, on the way to church something dreadfully familiar washed over me. Insecurities. Those old, unwanted companions that dog me and sit on my heart and spirit like a coating of nasty syrup. In getting out of the car the whispers that the enemy knows very well will defeat me actually made me walk slower. I walked into church, parting ways with my hubby so that he could check Kaden into class and I could do the same for Emma. I am walking by friendly faces, smiling and saying hello while inside I am slowly curling into the equivalent of the fetal position. None of this is taking me by surprise, I have been here before, on other Sundays, smiling and willing one foot in front of the other. I managed to check Emma in and I headed back downstairs. Alone for a moment my mind wanders back over my week. Conversations that I had or didn't have all show up to confirm and strangthen my misery. I am seeing everything through this filter that I have allowed the enemy to slip over my eyes. Actions of others and myself coming back distorted. I am flailing in my mind for something to grab onto to make me feel better. I am searching my mind for the faces of people that love me, people that could encourage me and pull me out of this stuff I seem to be sinking into. I come to the bottom of the stairs and see my husband. There is a glimmer of relief. He loves me, he knows me, he can help me and I can confide in him. We walk into church and sit down and that roaring lion that seeks to devour me reminds me that my husband has been here with me before, patiently listened while I have cried and expressed my sadness. My enemy tells me that Jarvis can't help me. He can't fix this. I am too needy. I will exasperate him and drive him nuts with all my ridiculous insecurity. He won't understand. One by one each of those that I love in my life, each blessed person that is in my heart come to my mind and have to be dismissed as the person that can weather the storm that is consuming me. I am too needy. My need is too great to burden another person. That is when a different voice breaks into my thoughts. "your need will never outweigh my love" It's my Jesus. My savior in so many more ways than just one. My heart recognizes the voice of comfort that has met me here before. And what I sense is such a relief. He can absorb what is threatening to consume me. Some of this stuff is so deep in me that I cannot even articulte it. And that deep in me is desperately calling to the deep of God. His deep is much deeper than mine. It's deep enough to swallow up my deep need.
What my insecurities are really don't matter, because they all have the same source as yours. God is getting to the source and dealing with the issue there.
I don't know why He wanted me to share this. I certainly want to give Him thanks and honor for inserting His love into my desperation. But I get the sense that the details of His plan for my healing really is between Him and I. So, why share? My guess is that I am not the only one that has ever found herself smiling on the outside while she is drowning on the inside. I cannot be alone in feeling that desperations that comes from battling an emotional enemy. That same enemy that seems to completely soak into my reality and twist my views of my friendships, my marriage and my parenting.
Psalm 91:1 says "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty"
1 Peter 5:7 says "Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you"
If I am not the only one facing the giant of insecurity then I am also not the only one that God is inviting to rest in His shadow after casting all my anxieties on Him. He's inviting you to do that too. He can absorb it, He can heal it, He can speak into it, over it and through it. And best of all, He can give you the power to stand up to that enemy that is trying to convince you that you are too needy. My Almighty has a shadow that eclipses the shadow that my need casts.
I have not arrived. I still struggle. But I am not doubting that God is big enough, or that He wants nothing more that my freedom from what seems to grip me on Sundays. Man, He loves me! You too! Cast those anxieties in His direction and join me here in His shadow. It's time for some rest.

My heart is twisting!

O.K Moms out there, I need some help and perspective. Here is my problem. Emma is doing softball this spring, I have told many of you about this already. She was put on a team of all third grade girls (this level is all second and third grade). These girls were together last season and two of the Moms are the coaches. They are excellent coaches and the girls are all nice but many of them are really close with each other because they go to school together or were already friends before. Emma is sort of odd man out. She is really enjoying herself but I know she is feeling a bit left out. Tonight after her game she came home and wants to make cards for all the girls on her team. When I suggested she make them and give them out at the end of the season, kind of a celebration thing she totally teared up and said that she wants to give them out at tomorrows game. I asked her if she is not feeling part of the group and is making the cards to try to make friends she tearfully nodded. My heart broke. I see myself in her so much! I feel that pain of being left out, of wanting to do something to fit in and make people like me. My first instinct is to convince her not to make them. What if they think its a dumb idea? What if they don't appreciate the sentiment and just hurt her feelings? Do third grade girls like getting cards? I can't stand to have her hurt. And I hate that I can't quite see past my own little girl hurts too have a good perspective on this.
I walked out of the room after telling her that we would talk about it later and I prayed.....
Then just now I am reminded of two things. First, I heard a Mom once say that her greatest goal for her children was to glorify the Lord. That is what I want for my kids too. Also, any act of love, whether received by the person it is given to or not, is received by the Lord. He never lets an act of love fall.
So, as much as it makes me nervous, as much as it actually makes me want to bawl, I must allow her to put herself out there. Because I don't want to squash this loving instinct in her. Hopefully the girls receiving the cards won't squash it either. But if they do both me and the Lord are here to help her through it.
Man, growing up is tough!

One word can really say it all

So, yesterday wasn't the best day for me. It had a lot of promise but just went wrong somewhere. I dropped the kids off at school and hauled my very heavy old computer (in a pink polka dot reusable shopping bag no less) along with myself and my sleek new laptop to the apple store at Bridgeport for my first one on one tutoring session with one of their capable employees. Casey (the capable employee) took one look at my polka dot bag full of old computer and said "you do know that although transferring your files is a free service we won't be doing it during our session, you will have to leave both computers here for a few days" This presented a problem see because I needed my computer at home yesterday afternoon so that Dick from Primisys could come fix my internet service. It had been down since Friday afternoon and I was assured by my phone company that the problem was at my end. So I absorbed all the knowledge that I could in 50 minutes from this young man and lugged my computers and myself home to wait for the internet calvary to arrive. At 1:00 there was a knock on my door and in comes Dick. He began to do his thing and we soon realized that a phone call to the phone company was in order. Turns out it was really theit fault all along. This would be the third time in a month that my service has been down. Even though he didn't actually fix anything Dick has to earn a living so I wrote a check and my blood pressure went up.
Then, I received a call from Emma's new softball coach, who had the wrong number all this time and who I despaired ever hearing from. Turns out she has only missed one practice and the coach sounds so nice. Emma will be the only second grader in a group of third grade girls. Blood pressure is now accompanied by worry for my little girl being in over her head. Then she lets me know that she will have practice and games at least three times a week. Add that to Kaden's T-ball which is on a different night and Blood pressure and worry is now joined by their good pal panic. How am I going to manage my life and homework and dinner and everything else with three weeknights and one weekend day taken up?
Then panic decided to stand up and take center stage as my husband informed me that a student at the school where he works is being tested for Swine flu.
Add all that to my first semester as a student teaching supervisor coming to a close and all the work that goes with that, a hubby that is still only home part of the time, and four credits worth of PSU classes and you can probably picture what I looked like last night as I went to my room after putting the kids to bed.
I physically fell onto my bed and spiritually fell into the hands of my Abba. My spirit looked up at him as if to say "can you believe all this?"
And one word came to me. "Decadence". What?? What did that mean? It didn't take me long to start pondering . . .
It is decadence that I own a computer. Furthermore that I have a house in which to operate it, electricity to power it and friends to connect with through it.
It is decadence that I have two healthy children that can play softball and T ball. Furthermore that I live in a place that offers them opportunity, and that I can afford the registration.
It is decadence that I have a husband that has a workplace to go to. Furthermore that he has found something that brings him great joy and that the joy rubs off on me.
All of it, the source of every one of my issues yesterday, stemmed from a place of decadence. From a full life of blessing.
Now, lest you think it was a scolding I heard from the Lord, let me set you straight. It was a gently, loving reminder of all of the things He has provided me that I really don't deserve. It was an urging to enjoy what I have and see Him in all things. It was also a glorious lesson that gratitude and self pity cannot coexist.
I slept well last night, bidding worry and panic good night, thus putting blood pressure back into check. I fell asleep on the couch (on purpose) watching a show I taped earlier in the day on PBS. One of my favorite painters lulled me to sleep teaching me to paint a Tuscan sky. Now that is decadence!