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September 19, 2011 jennifer Gardening, Musings on Life and Beauty

I have been amazed at the number of bees in our gardens for the past several weeks. I’ve learned some interesting things about myself this summer. First, I love gardening. I love it so much more than I imagined. I could spend several hours a day working in the yard if I was in a stage of life that allowed it. I find it very therapeutic and renewing.

Second, I never thought I’d be able to work in my gardens along side the bees without being the least bit tense, but suddenly I’m not at all bothered by them. I remember the first time I harvested my lavender many years ago, how I had to take a deep breath and squash my worry about the bees buzzing all around the plant. Now I just work alongside them. If one lands where I’m cutting, I just move to the other side of the plant until it’s done. Instead of my fear there’s a sense of common purpose. Strange.

This year I cannot visit my flowers without also discovering bees busy at work. My gladiolus have also attracted a hummingbird this year. I had no idea hummingbirds love gladiolus, but they most certainly do. You can bet I’m planting more next year. I’m living in this funny place between joy at the continuing harvest and excitement to rip things out for the year and plant for next year.

I wish the bees had been here when my cherry tree was covered with blossoms, but I feel honored to have them so hard at work in my yard. The sunflowers now hang heavy with weight and I really must learn how to dry and harvest them.

All in due time. I have only a few days until my family arrives for my brother’s wedding this weekend. I am so excited to see them all! It will be a wonderful weekend and I know it will all work out, yet I have this gnawing tension eating away at my stomach. There is so much more to do than I can accomplish in three days, yet I don’t want to cross anything off the list yet.

I’m waiting for a package to arrive in the mail so I can complete something I’m determined to finish. It should have been here by now, but it’s not, and I feel stressed about it. Silly, isn’t it, to stress over things I cannot control.

I should have been cleaning today, but I made another batch of salsa. The tomatoes wouldn’t have lasted much longer, and how can I plant all those plants and pray for a good harvest but neglect the fruit when the Lord gives it to me? You just can’t do that. So I spent the morning chopping vegetables. (At least I did it before I tore my fingernail helping my daughter assemble something, right? I don’t want to chop onions and peppers right now!)

Yesterday the house was clean. Right now I sit in a cluttered room with children all wanting to do different things, trying to find a missing homework assignment, get one daughter ready for soccer practice and another ready for her game. I’m trying to convince two children that now really is the right time to practice the piano while praying that another will stick with his homework until it’s done. Dinner? I’ll have to think about that later.

I marvel lately at the vast difference between life on paper and life as it plays out. On paper I feel like I can get it all done, but I never plan for the crying baby or the arguing teenager. This weekend I said to my oldest daughter, “One of these days we’ll have a day that works like clockwork. A day things happen the way we plan for them to, and we get to everything that needs doing. Just you wait. Someday we’ll have one.” She laughed, and then I said, “I suppose we’d better wait on it, though, and save it for your wedding day or something wonderful. It would be a shame to waste it on soccer, wouldn’t it?” And we both laughed.

This is it. This is life. All the things we plan for jumbled up with the things we don’t. I want to live in the moment but be prepared for what’s around the bend both in a few days and in a few years. And in the end I suppose I’ll be grateful for the jumble, grateful that it’s taught me to compromise, to prioritize, to savor the moment for what it is because it will surely change in 5 minutes.

But really, I wouldn’t mind a slow day or two and a baby that is done crying because her molars are coming in. Or a teenager who would say, “Sure Mom!” for a few hours or bathrooms that stayed clean for more than ten minutes. Please understand this post is not a complaint. It’s just a week and most of what I’m worried about won’t matter in a few more days. Yet today it feels big, and it’s something I really care about.

So I feel busy. Really busy. But whatever I accomplish, the weekend will come and it will all work out great. With or without marker on the walls.

Hopeful Homemaker

Youth

September 12, 2011 jennifer Musings on Life and Beauty

A week or two ago I dropped my daughter off somewhere and drove home, alone in the car. She loves music, so the radio is always on when she’s with me. I confess I’m terrible at remembering the names of songs and the names of music artists. I have a few songs I like and that’s enough. I really don’t care who the famous singers are and what’s going on in their messed up lives (the same goes for Hollywood) but I love my daughter so we listen together.

Sometimes I leave the radio on when she gets out; sometimes I turn it off and enjoy the quiet. On this particular day I left it on but turned it down. As I turned down my street a song came on which caught my attention. I turned it up a little so I could be certain to understand the lyrics.

I was shocked. The song was openly saying “Come on, kids!” and inviting them to the lifestyle that was called, “love in America,” consisting of “drugs, sex, alcohol, rock and roll.” What shocked me about it was the bold, open call to kids to come join in this “party” – a completely self-destructive lifestyle that was being touted as normal, appropriate, fun and natural. Something about the use of the word “kids” really got to me.

How is it that we have these counter-cultures living harmoniously side by side in our society? We have generations of research that give us lists of simple things we can do to keep our kids healthy – keep them OUT of the destructive lifestyle described above – and give them the best possible shot at a productive, happy life. This information and research doesn’t just come from religious channels, it comes from researchers across the board. And we care. I really believe that most parents care and want their children to stay out of the muck.

Then we turn on the radio and get blasted with messages that are in opposition to everything we want for them.

Disgusting.

I’m not sure why those few minutes alone in the car with the radio on impressed me so much, but I’ve thought a lot about it. It was an interesting look at what I’m up against. The battle for our youth is most definitely on.

Fast forward to yesterday.

Instead of our usual church meetings we attended something called Stake Conference, a meeting when several congregations in a geographical area join together to worship. The youth (kids aged 12-18) had been asked to sing a song they’ve learned this year so during the meeting I watched a large group of kids stand up and walk to the front of the large hall in which we were assembled.

I stopped counting at 200. There were a lot of them, and their youth leaders stood and joined them as well.

Then they started singing. Young men in white shirts and ties. Young women in beautiful dresses, clothes that actually covered their bodies.

They sang about what they believe in. They sang about standing strong, being true, about living lives that are “chaste, virtuous, benevolent, doing good to all men.” They sang about their commitment to be true in a world of filth, to seek that which is praiseworthy. One line rang in my ears, “There is no room for darkness in our lives.”

It was beautiful. It was powerful. The hall rang with the beauty of their testimony. I sat there with tears in my eyes, grateful that two of my children were among them, whispering a silent prayer that they could feel it too. My heart swelled with determination.

And then I thought of that song from a couple of weeks ago and I wished that the whole world could see what I was seeing, hear what I was hearing. Before me stood evidence that there is a better way to live . Before me stood evidence that it is possible to live a clean, pure, good, happy life as teenagers in today’s world. Before me stood evidence that it can be done . Before me stood proof of just how good it feels and how great it looks to live right. In the strength of the Lord we can find power to live this way.
I love my kids so much. I love their friends. I’m still on the early end of these years as a mother, but I’ve certainly had some tastes of the ups and downs of raising teenagers. They get a bad rap, and sometimes they deserve it, but often they don’t. They’re better than we think they are. They’re trying harder than they let on. They do want to please us, they do want to do what is right. I am committed. We are committed. The battle for our youth is on, and with God’s help we’ll win.

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” -Philippians 4:13 Hopeful Homemaker

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