Graduation Reflections, Part One

Ok, it's kind of weird to entitle a post "part one", when one doesn't have a real vision of what parts two or three will look like.  BUT - given the subject of this post, I just have a gut feeling that over the next month I will have many graduation reflection feelings (pride, tears, joy, tears, happiness, tears. . . you get the idea).  So - the first of probably several thoughts I will have on my daughter's upcoming high school graduation:

About January/February of my daughter's 8th grade year, my husband and I had a moment.  He had spoken with two good friends whose children had attended nearby parochial high schools, and he suggested we consider touring some instead of just assuming that our nearby public school would be the right choice for her.  Oddly enough, since I had only ever attended parochial schools my entire schooling career, I felt anxious about this plan.  The schools we were talking about were 30 minutes away, cost a lot of money, were full of people we didn't know, and were just plain unknown.  But - I did agree that we should check out our options before truly deciding what was best for our daughter. Our girl, who had been thinking she would be attending the public high school with most of her friends, was a little emotional, but mature about it all.

And so we visited the first school on our list - Marian.  Very soon into our visit, I knew this would be the place for her (and her brothers and sister).  My daughter felt it too -- she said it was just like our Lutheran grade school - only the high school version.  We were impressed with the students we encountered, the staff we talked to, and the curriculum we were shown.  But most of all, I remembered being drawn into the integral goal of the school -- to help form Godly, moral Christian people, and to get them into heaven above all.

Though our daughter felt all of what we felt, it was still a bit of an emotional mental switch for her.  We told her (and she understood), that we would listen to our children's opinions about where they would like to attend high school, but that as their parents, we would ultimately be making that important decision. And very soon, we knew that Marian was indeed our choice for our children.

We told our daughter that we weren't "afraid" of public education -- that choosing this parochial high school was not an alternative to public education or somehow a safe zone, shelter or oasis.  But -- that Marian would work in tandem with us as parents to do the following:

• To continue to teach our children to know and love God
• To give them a solid moral formation and foundation
• To show them how to love God with their entire being, which would therefore spill over into every aspect of their lives, including how they would conduct themselves in all circumstances

My friends, Marian felt like home.  Marian's mission felt like that of our Lutheran grade school, and all the things we valued in it were valued there as well.  The teachers at Marian want to touch young people's lives in just the same way I want to touch my students' lives in preschool and grade school.  The teachers in both places want the core of everything they do to be Jesus.  To show children Jesus, and bring them closer to him.

As our daughter's time at Marian is coming to a close, I am so incredibly thankful God led us there.  My daughter (and my son, behind her) has received a top-notch college-prep education, but more importantly, has continued to have her faith fed and nurtured on a daily, hourly basis.  And those lessons will last an eternity.

The Shepherd's Lamb

Yesterday evening, my grandma passed away.  Very peacefully, with all of her children surrounding her, she took her last breath here on earth and was welcomed into Jesus' outstretched arms.  She lived a long life, and last night her prayer was answered -- to be united with Christ her Savior.

My grandma was a feisty gal -- she always spoke her mind; you never had to wonder what she was thinking.  She loved her family fiercely, and loved being surrounded by them.  Her laugh was infectious, and when she was excited, she raised her hands up in glee.  She loved the sunshine, gummy bears and stuffed animals.  She loved to fish and play cards (and help everyone she was playing with!) She was always cold -- I have vivid memories of her standing on the floor register when we would visit.  She never asked for much and was content with what she had.  She was a lovely lady, and she will be missed by everyone who knew her.

Yesterday morning, my dad played several of my husband's homilies for my grandma.  I don't know what she was able to hear, but one of the homilies was the one on Good Shepherd Sunday.  His homily ended with the hymn below, one of my very favorites.   I love all the "shepherd/sheep" hymns -- the imagery of Jesus as our shepherd is so comforting. 

 "I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep."  John 10:11   

Jesus, the good shepherd, laid down his life for my grandma, his little lamb.  And she knew it!  Her shepherd called her by name, guided her and took care of her every need.  And when her time on earth came to a close, he enfolded her in his arms.  What a God we have!  Grandma's earthly struggles have come to end -- victory in Jesus is hers!

 I am Jesus' little lamb,

Ever glad at heart I am;

For my Shepherd gently guides me,

Knows my need, and well provides me,

Loves me every day the same,

Even calls me by my name.

Day by day, at home, away,

Jesus is my Staff and Stay.

When I hunger, Jesus feeds me,

Into pleasant pastures leads me;

When I thirst, He bids me go

Where the quiet waters flow.

Who so happy as I am,

Even now the Shepherd's lamb?

And when my short life is ended,

By His angel host attended,

He shall fold me to His breast,

There within His arms to rest.

Hedgehog Heaven

Since they were old enough to talk, it seems the kids have begged us for a pet.  “When we are done having babies,” I always said, “then maybe we can get a dog.”  “But mom! What about a bunny or frog or fish or hamster?” they would plead.  “Nope”, I firmly replied every single time.  “When we get a pet, it will not be a ‘half pet’.  We are not getting any caged animals.  We will get a proper pet, which is a dog.”

And they remembered this promise, and finally, when the last holdout (dad) agreed, we got our dear, naughty Shadow.  Pet conversations closed.  The pet has been purchased, loved and integrated into our family.

Or not.  Dear old Dad, for the same reason he ultimately agreed we should get a dog, thought we should allow our fourth child to realize his (nearly) lifelong dream of owning a hedgehog.  Yes, our dear white-haired 11-year-old wonder has loved hedgehogs for almost the entirety of his young life.  What started with a love of Sonic the Hedgehog became a full-fledged love of all wildlife, and hedgehogs in particular.  So dad, who wanted our son to fully experience what he is passionate about, somehow talked me (the “we will NEVER have a caged animal in this house” mamma) into agreeing. 

And so my son, as a birthday/Christmas gift and with some of his additional savings, bought a hedgehog.  Because of his coloring, he named him Bandit.  We waited several weeks for his arrival.  When the day finally came to pick him up, our son was beside himself with excitement.  The three younger kids and I sat through an hour-long information session on how to care for a hedgehog.  I was taking notes while my son interjected questions based on his (massive) research.  After awhile, we were able to take Bandit home in a cross-body carrying pouch my son had received for Christmas. 

But the first 24 hours were not all rainbows and unicorns. . .it turns out hedgehogs are actually really prickly.  Who would have guessed that?? And when they’re anxious or afraid, they also startle when you attempt to pick them up, which I am here to attest, is not. pleasant. That first day was quite a learning curve for my son and me.

By the second day, after church, Bandit must have been feeling a little more at home in my boys’ room, because he let us pick him up without trying to kill us.  Before long, my son was an expert at holding him and taking care of him.  He’s very cute, so I am trying to ignore/forgive the following hedgehog traits:

·      They are nocturnal.  I know they can’t help this trait that is in written into their hedgehoggy DNA, but my word.   The boys seem to sleep through it, but he wakes me up often.  I go in, move his (silent wheel) away from the cage wall, take toys out that he is moving around (not in a quiet, respectful way, considering 8 other living beings are sleeping while he is having a grand ol’ time), and make sure his cage lends itself to silent play.  I have limited success in this area.

·      Litter box training.  Apparently hedgehogs can be litter box trained.  I don’t think that info seems to be written into his hedgehoggy DNA.  He has a litter tray, but his poo does not seem to be confined to that area.

·      Hedgehog grooming.  The breeder sold us some hedgehog bath soap, that we have yet to try out, though my son says we need to bath him soon (I am holding out for . . .I don’t know what – the end of the world?).  Bathing a pokey animal who will most certainly not enjoy the bath doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to me.  We also need to trim his nails periodically.  It is hard to describe to you how tiny his nails are.  I feel basically sure my eyesight is not up to the task and I will seriously injure him.  Again. . .holding out. . .

·      Gear.  For such a little thing, he is kind of a diva.  Wheel, litter pan (with special stuff in the litter pan), bedding for the cage, igloo, crinkly toy, water bottle, food and dish, carrying pouch thingy. . . also a vet visit at the beginning to insure his health. 

·      And finally, the piece dé resistance  - hedgehoggy diarrhea.  Last night I went in to check on the boys before I went to bed and peeked in at Bandit, like I always do (he is always in full swing for the start of his 8-hour part-ay), when my nose was assaulted.  Yes, I had to clean up loose hedgehog poo (which I am hoping is not indicative of anything wrong with his delicate system) before I went to bed.  I am living the life.

So some of this hedgehog business is a little sketchy.  But my son loves him dearly, and Bandit is teaching him responsibility and giving him an outlet to explore his passion of wildlife (he wants to be a vet when he grows up).  Everyone agrees he’s adorable, with his tiny twitching nose and cute little face.  I can’t believe we own a caged animal, but Bandit has been good for my son, and my son gets to realize his lifelong dream at age 11.  I think it’s a win-win.

What's in a Name?

Naming one's children is no easy task.  As parents, we know that whatever name we give our wee little babe will be with them for life.  Should we name our little pumpkin something timeless or trendy?  Biblical or New Age?  Should we go with a family name?  Something that can (or can't) be nicknamed? Something I found on a map or heard in People magazine?

It's serious business.  Naming a person will help define who they are for oh, their entire life.  No pressure, eh?

When we chose our kids's names, we had allll sorts of discussions.  My husband threw out some whackadoodle biblical names (Maher-shalal-hash-baz??) that I quickly vetoed (you're welcome, children).  They may have had great meanings, but I didn't think my precious little one needed to be saddled with some of them.  Other times, however, I was the one who came up with a doozy that my husband nixed (i.e. Theophilus - hey it's a family name, and it can be shortened to adorable Theo!). Eventually, we chose a boy and girl name each pregnancy since we didn't find out gender until I gave birth.  We ultimately chose first names that were rich in meaning, and family middle names.

This summer, I blogged about how we came to name our third child (you can read about it here).  It was a big deal, naming him, mostly because we had to name him nine weeks early and weren't prepared! When my husband suggested the name we chose, I remember rolling it around in my mouth. . .checking it out and seeing how it felt.  And it felt right.  And now, 13.5 years later, his name still feels right in my mouth, as do all my kids' names.

Recently I heard a quote, attributed to "Billy, age 4", but I am not sure of its true origin.  This quote said so much to me about how we see our loved ones.  I remembered immediately sitting in the hospital room, "feeling" the name in my mouth, and deeming it perfect for our beloved baby.  This is the quote:

When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.

  You know that your name is safe in their mouth.

Indeed.  Regardless of why we chose their names, I hope that all my children (and husband, and friends and family) know that their names are safe in my mouth.  That their names are treasured windows into who they are as people.  That their names are precious, respected, valuable and unique, because they are precious, respected, valuable and unique.  Each of my children is unrepeatable, created by God in His image, special and like no one else.  

So what's in a name?  Everything.

I have called you by name,

you are mine.

Isaiah 43:1b

Confirmed in Christ!

He is risen!  He is risen indeed!

And indeed we had a glorious Easter weekend at our house.  Our fourth child was confirmed and had his first communion, and it was every bit of wonderful.  We had 23 family members in town to celebrate with us and our son. We ate well, we laughed, we had an egg hunt and an Egg Roll competition, my son received some lovely faith-strengthening gifts, and most of all, we all worshiped together -- at the Easter Vigil where my son was confirmed, and at Easter morning worship as well.  

If we had to choose one word to describe our son, it would be passion.  He is passionate about everything he does and loves.  And I love that about him!  It sometimes makes emotions flare, but he is always authentic.  Each confirmand's parent wrote an essay about their child and they were all published in a keepsake book for those attending the Easter Vigil.  Here is an excerpt of what my husband wrote about our son:

Passion.  If there is one word that describes you (and there could be many others) this one tops the list. You feel things so deeply.  The things that capture your attention fascinate me.  You ponder things that most people would never give a thought. Your never-still mind is always filling you with curiosity.  Whether it is the sports you love, or reading Harry Potter, or your interest in all kinds of animals and wildlife, some of them rather exotic (how did you ever get so enamored with hedgehogs?) - whatever interested you - you are all in.  I love that about you, my son.  God gave you that sense of wonder.  All of your interests are to help you look for the One who created such a fascinating, curious, interesting world for you to discover.

And so, my son, my prayer is that your passion directs you to Him - that you may be "all in" following Jesus.  Because if one truly, passionately, curiously wonders about eJsesus and searches for Him, you will never be bored.

The verse my son chose as his confirmation verse is 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18:  Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

This was my grandma's verse.  She lived by it, she wrote it down as a reminder, and it truly summed up who she was.  My son looked at many, many verses trying to decide which one he wanted, and decided that this was the one.  I love that he chose her verse, and that he wants to focus on prayer and giving thanks to God in all circumstances.

Our boy's confirmation, like his siblings' before him, was an amazing experience.  The entire extended family surrounded him as my husband confirmed him and prayed over him.  My son was beyond excited and full of emotion (as many of us were - my youngest daughter was weepy with happiness for her big brother).  And when we returned to our seats, he was full of joy and so thrilled to take his first communion a few minutes later.  

As he grows up, I pray my son keeps that exuberance for Christ.  I pray he embraces his passions and that they will point him to Christ.  And that all he does falls under the umbrella of prayer and giving thanks.  

Raindrops On Roses and Clean, Crisp Sheets

Many of you might know that I attended the Theology of the Body Institute's first course last week.  It was equal parts moving, soul-searching, informative, heart-rending and faith-strengthening.  It was an experience I won't ever forget.  I look forward to the days and weeks to come as I unpackage all my materials and notes.

One of the things our instructor said early on in the week was about a song from my all-time favorite musical.  Yep - you guessed it - Jesus Christ Superstar!  Haha - just kidding.  If you know me at all, you know it is The Sound of Music.  His children had recently performed in the musical, and many themes from it were fresh in his mind.  And at the top of his list was the song "My Favorite Things".  He began singing a few bars and asked us to join in if we knew the words (ummm. . .I know the words).  Maria sings the song to remind herself and the children to think of their favorite things when they are afraid (or when the dog bites or the bee stings).

Our instructor took this song a step further, and reminded us that God knows all our favorite things.  He knows our favorite things sometimes before we know them.  And even better, God sings the song of our favorite things to us all the time.  Our lives are filled with the music of God singing to us those things which move us and shape us and bring us joy.  That admiration of the majestic mountains?  God singing to us.  Overcome with the vast beauty of the ocean?  God singing to us.  A bunny hopping across the neighbor's yard while on a walk?  God singing to us - what?  Does he only sing that verse to me?  Surely I'm not alone in that one.

The thought of God knowing me. . .little me, in an enormous universe. . .and caring to put in front of me all of my favorite things truly brought tears to my eyes.  Here I am, living my (small) life, and the God of the universe is loving me enough to give me joy.  He knows my heart and chooses to love me anyway.  His love and forgiveness are vast.

So - here are a few of my favorite things.  What joy I derive in them!  And what joy to know that God knows even more of my favorite things, and has plans to reveal them to me in the future.

My children's faces
Bunnies hopping across the yard in spring
Clean, crisp sheets
Sweet romance movies (think Anne of Green Gables)
Peanut butter in all manner of preparation
Worshiping with my church family
My home
Laughing with my children
Potato Chips
My sweet students
Taking a walk with my husband
Singing beautiful choral music
80s music
Musicals
A good book
Coke Zero
The ocean and Lake Michigan
Shadow's euphoria at my arrival home
Big family celebrations

Oh dear reader. . .the list could go on and on -- and I don't even know everything that goes on this list!  But God does.  He knows my heart and loves me so much that He sings this song to me every day.

What is God singing to you, my friends?

Shadow Tales

As I posted earlier, we have been doing some work on our house.  About three or four days before the floor was to be refinished, we realized we really needed to ship Shadow out for the duration.  We contacted a friend of ours from church whose daughter has a pet-sitting business, and had watched Shadow once before a couple years ago.  She was willing and excited to have him, and her mother and father are very generous people and agreed to let Shadow move in temporarily.

The pet-sitter and family have moved since she watched him last, so this was a new house to Shadow.  When we brought him in, he darted around, sniffing everything and checking out all the corners.  I can only imagine he was searching for anything that might be a candidate for chewing and ruining later.  I always feel little anxious when we take him somewhere, lest he give in to his naughty desires.  After a few moments, they brought out their cat, which concerned me even more (would Shadow attack the cat? would he growl and be fierce?).  The pet-sitting mom seemed quite chill as the two chased each other around the house. "They're just playing", she said.  I continued to hope that Shadow would behave himself.

I began giving the family some info about Shadow puppy, including, but not limited to, things like: don't leave any small items on the floor, or he will chew them up; and also, don't leave food near the edge of the counter, or he will help himself to a snack.  Whilst I was doing this, Shadow was exploring the house, moving quickly around us.  Suddenly one of my kids yelled, "Shadow pooped! Shadow pooped!" I immediately whipped my head around, and discovered that he had indeed pooped on the carpet.  I was mortified and shocked, as he has only very rarely done that, and it hasn't happened for years.  I was also amazed as his speed! He was moving at a rapid rate -- he had no time to make the traditional doggie pooping tripod.  "It was a drive-by pooping!", I said, horrified.  The pet-sitting mamma handled it beautifully and assured me that it was okay.  When I left a few minutes later, I begged her to let me know if he was naughty and we would come to get him stat.

I checked in regularly, and apparently he was at his worst when making his first impression (classy, Shads), and has behaved well enough the rest of his visit.  I am greatly relieved, and very thankful for a family who was willing to help us out.

It was a lot easier having Shadow out of the house (though we bought a hedgehog while he was gone - are we lunatics?), but I gotta say I missed having him around. He's home now and settling back in, though his meet and greet with the hedgehog was rather comical (more on that later).