those end of the year feelings....

Like everyone else I know, these next two days bring me thoughts of where I've been and where I am heading.   While I don't often write New Year's resolutions, I do like to reflect on the past year and make somewhat  of an effort to chart a course through next year.

I turned on my radio this morning and heard a song by Kieth and Kristyn Getty (two of my favorite song writers) .

" Jesus draw me ever nearer
as I labor through the storm
You have called me to this passage,
and I'll follow, though I'm worn.

May this journey bring a blessing
May I rise on wings of faith
and at the end of my heart's testing,
with your likeness let me wake."

There's more if you want to look it up, but I was just contemplating if I have been a blessing to anyone else on this journey this past year and how I can be more of a blessing this coming year.  It's so easy to get wrapped up in myself and my little world and forget about the big world outside my cozy brick walls.  And now that I have written this down, there will be knockings on my door or calls on the phone.  I pray God gives me eyes to see the needs around me and the grace to respond as He would have me .

In the autumn of my life.

On a cloudy Monday morning in November, my thoughts turn naturally to autumn.
Autumn means:
- finding the snowsuits
- finishing the canning
- watching my flower beds turn brown
-cutting enough wood to heat the house all winter
 and a myriad of other  slightly sobering ideas ramble through my mind.
Somehow these lead to all my memories of other falls, long past.
and then I think, wow, life is moving quickly to my own autumn.  I have a 29 year old son, I have 9 grandchildren, soon to be 11.

But wait, I am planing to live to be 100.  This is just summer for me.  I have a six year old child downstairs drawing an eye patch and a pirate  map so we can play.  In the seasons of my life, I am barely past midsummer.  These are the longest days!  Begone, grey depression, I have many things to do before fall come for me. 

Great Expectations

Mothers  do not retire, they are not allowed to retire,and no matter how weary they may be, motherhood goes on forever.
With that in mind,  when two of my married daughters called yesterday within 10 minutes of each other and asked if they could come to my house to "hang out." I graciously invited them over.
I will confess that Esther offered to bring me a large freshly baked brownie but I would have said yes anyway.
While they were here:
 A woman came to look at my litter of 5 week -old golden retrievers
 I attempted to do some wash
 I checked all the business emails
 I swept the floor(that's a big accomplishment )
I looked at some Christmas music I may need to learn for a program
We caught up on all the family gossip
Elijah brought us pizza for lunch
the school bus returned bearing 6 more children
and, I got to play with two of my grandchildren

I was feeling slightly weary when my husband returned home wondering if I would like to "make a little saurkraut" that evening.  I like homemade kraut as much as anyone in the house but apparently my view of "a little" kraut and his differ.

I now have 1,000 (you read that right) pounds of lovely cabbage sitting under a tarp in my driveway while I wait for inspiration to go buy more salt.  I'm pretty sure I don't have enough on hand.
As I recounted these events to my neighbor this morning, she said,"Miriam, you should just be thankful that your life is always new and exciting." 

So- thank you honey, for your gift.  Next time, could you just think "sparkly"?

Reflections...

Last week was the first day of school.  As per my tradition, I took a picture of everyone on the first day and then it hit me- When my oldest was a senior I took a picture of him and his younger brother Jedidiah who was entering kindergarten.  Last week I had Jed- now a senior himself and standing next to him was Stephen, my baby going off to kindergarten.
This is the first time in 24 years that I have not had a pre-schooler. What would I do with myself?

Granted, I still have a home-schooled child, a college student and older boys that live here even while graduated but after all these years, what a funny feeling.

I plan to spend my first week reflecting on all the amazing things God has done in the past 24 years and then make a list of where God and I will go in the next 24.

Life is an adventure and as my husband has said many.many times: "It's exciting!"

The Most Welcome Interruption

Found this prayer in a book:

" The Music of Loose Ends"

I wish I had written it, but I can surely appreciate the prayer and share it.

"Heavenly Father,
You said 'always.'   Always give thanks--always and for everything.  You said to keep the music of thanksgiving always playing in myheart.  Today I give thanks in Jesus' name for what I usually complain about, for what I can't seem to control or change, for all the daily indignities of raising kids:

--For things that break or get broken all the time, and things that break on first use, and for the broken things that require expensive repair and replacement:  Today I see that these are reminders that You are giving my family an eternal treasure in heaven that will never break or fade away(Matt.6:20).

--For things stained, smudged, smeared, fingerprinted, spilled on, even for those unnameable sticknesses in strange places: Today I will bear with such messes with renewed patience because they remind me that it is the inside of us that matters.  You have washed our hearts to purest white by the mercies of Your daily love and eternal salvation(Ps. 51:7).

--For things unemptied, unreplaced,unclosed, unreturned, unkempt, unfound, and unfinished:Today these loose ends of our family life reassure me that our family is called to adestiny where only a few things really matter(Luke 10:42).

--For things ufly,plain,common,cheap,chipped,and dented: Today I see these sometimes embarrassing belongings of a family for what they are--proof that a miracle is under way here.  And You,Lord of all, choose to dwell here with us(Ps. 144:3).

--For noises day and night, and loud music, and loud noises that passes for music: Today I offer this racket to You as the praise of 'everything that has breath' in this house(Ps.150:6), and thank You with each decibel of devotion.

--For interrupted meals,unfinished conversations with friends,unfinished reading,neglected hobbies and projects, and for the fading memories of many small, grown-up luxuries: Today I remember that in His ministry, Jesus said that children were the most welcome interruption of all and the real business of heaven(Matt.19:14).

O Father, accept my list of ordinary parenting annoyances as the holy music of my thankful heart today, for I sing in Jesus' name.

 Amen"

Kopp, David, and Heather Harpham Kopp. Praying the Bible for Your Children. Colorado Springs, CO: WaterBrook, 1998. Print.


Even as I type this, my house is full of such music, so I will leave this post and go attend to my most welcome interruptions.

Perspectives

Life has its twists and turns.
Last week  I got to go to Missouri and help our oldest son with his 4 pre-schoolers when his lovely wife Lindsay needed to go to Texas with her family.  It was my first opportunity to just "hang -out" with four fun children.
Granted, their energy level was probably double mine and I realized why God gives children to 20 year -olds, not 50 somethings.
On the other hand, I got an up close and personal look at their life and I'm so proud of the wonderful job Seth and Lindsay are doing teaching their children.
When I was in the midst of my own toddler life, I couldn't see the forest for the trees, so to speak.  Dishes, laundry, messy faces, dirty behinds, all conspired to rob me of perspective and make me forget the real value of what I was doing.
This time around I could look at the smiling faces and hugs and realize the work will end - eventually but the relationship is forever.

Mother's Day is tomorrow, I have left Grandma life for a time and returned to Motherhood and my 5 year old, but I want to say to all you Moms out there - its a tough job but the reward is oh so worth it.
Hug your messy children and don't sweat the small stuff.

Rites of Spring

Nothing says spring more succinctly at the Ilgenfritz house than the advent of Trout Fishing.

     The smell of budding trees, small woodland flowers and leaf mold, the last tiny clumps of snow clinging to the undersides of fallen logs or hiding in shadowy patches, the fresh yellow-green of new growth, the sound of a rushing mountain stream and the startled yelp of a boy falling into icy water all combine to remind me of that most cherished event – the first day of trout fishing. Izaak Walton wrote, “God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.”

      Since my husband and I have been married and children began to appear, the trout fishing ritual has been refined and polished to an art. We now have ten boys eligible to participate in this annual festivity.  It is also a rite of passage since attendance is limited to sons who are out of diapers.  Dad doesn’t do diapers. Therefore, the precocious may get to participate at the age of two, but more than likely it will be three.

      Trout fishing takes place at an uncle’s cabin in the Laurel Mountains of Pennsylvania.  The first step is to pack the food.  Cereal, bologna, eggs, and all sorts of goodies are all packed up by the three oldest boys.  At their ages, food is important and they make sure there’s plenty of it.  Also packed are long underwear, hats, gloves (it’s April) and a change of clothes for all the small guys because someone usually falls in the stream.

     Next is the task of procuring bait.  Sometimes canned corn is enough but many of the boys hold to the view summed up by Henry Van Dyke who said “The reason life sometimes seems dull is because we do not perceive the importance and excitement of getting bait.”  Fortunately, we live on a farm and April is sufficiently muddy to locate worms for an army.

     Finally, a whole host of fishing rods, tackle boxes, waders, nets and all the other necessary paraphernalia we have accumulated over the years are loaded into our van.

     The trip itself is uneventful.  It is a two- hour drive unless the boys are fortunate enough to get Dad to stop at a sporting goods store for waders or a license or canned corn.  Then a shopping adventure is an added bonus.

     When they reach the cabin, the boys have numerous complaints about the rodent tenants who have spent the winter between the sheets of unaired beds and left behind their calling cards.  As they grow older, they have discovered that it is a wise choice to bring your own sleeping bag.

     There is an old fisherman’s saying that, “Nothing grows faster than a fish from the time he bites until the time he gets away.” This has been proven true at the cabin as well. Sometime in the afternoon or evening, Great-uncle Dave and several other men show up.  Then there are tales of years gone by and the inevitable stories of amazing fish escapes, and finally the restless sleep of those possessing the certain knowledge of this year’s big catch.

     Trout fishing begins early. Everyone has a hearty breakfast and grabs the specially packed lunch that Grandma has sent along before heading out to select a hole before daylight.   With a little luck, someone will catch their limit before lunch, sending everyone else into fervor of casting and reeling in and unwinding small boy’s lines from trees.  In recent years our second son, Benjamin has become an expert on helping little ones get lines untangled, perhaps reminiscent of the years he was small.  If no one falls in, lunch is eaten on the bank with the rough bark of the logs digging into bottoms and the smell of slimy fish on hands.

     The essence of the day is summed up by Noah’s fish tale:  He was about six at the time and as avid an angler as anyone.  He had a fine rainbow trout on his line, which he was quite proud of. Actually his big brother Seth had caught it and put it on Noah’s hook when he was elsewhere, but Noah was oblivious to this.  He reeled it in and his brothers duly admired it.

     The trout came home to be viewed by the girls of the family as well and we would have cooked and eaten it but Noah was sent to take his Saturday night bath and unbeknownst to anyone else, he took the trout into the tub with him.  The poor thing showed no appreciation for bubble baths.

      Finally Noah was persuaded to plant the fish on the hill under some cucumber plants where it may have fertilized them quite well, except he kept digging the plants up to check on the fish

     This then is the heart of the trout fishing tradition- not the big catches, but time with family, making memories and stories we can pass down to the next generation. I can picture it now, a room full of little boys and Seth or Benjamin will say, “Have you heard the story of Uncle Noah and the Rainbow Trout?”