Here's a 2-minute window into how Feven and I spend our days. Note how quickly she changes activities and how ready she is at the end with, "Cheese!" It's like this kid's mom always has the camera out or something. Sheesh!
Friday, February 8, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
A Gentle, Convicting Reminder
Since the beginning of the new year, I've been trying to devote more time to studying the Bible. I used to read the Bible most everyday, but only for a short duration of time each day. After a conversation with a friend over Christmas, I was inspired to dive in more. She said that her new understanding of quiet time is showing up and not leaving until you've understood something in a new way, felt God moving in your life, etc.
That thought was new to me - that perhaps I can have really good quiet time (defined by a new revelation, strong conviction, or feeling of closeness to God) EVERY SINGLE TIME. Maybe it isn't just meant to be here and there, as God works his way into my few minutes a day, but maybe I'm supposed to show up and wait for Him to show up too.
So each day during naptime I bring my quiet time basket to the kitchen table. I take out my Bible, journal, and gratitude journal, and I wait to see what happens.
There hasn't been a day where I've regretted that time I've spent with God.
But the silliest thing is, it's so hard for me to get to the kitchen table some days! I find a sense of urgency to check my email, Facebook, or cross SOMETHING off the to-do list, for heaven's sake! before I sit down and open my Bible.
My latest excuse for dawdling has been exhaustion. It has been a tiring stretch of parenting, and Zac has been gone a bit too so I've been single-parenting it. When Feven's naptime comes around, I find myself saying in my head, "I really need to take care of myself so I can be my best self for her. I should read a book for fun or have a little downtime this naptime. Maybe I should take a nap myself so I'm energized and ready to go when she is."
Just today at the kitchen sink I found myself thinking along these same lines. And from the back of my mind I remembered Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
I need to go to God for my restoration. Only he can refresh me and renew me in the ways I need. And while I think that I know those ways, he knows me infinitely better than I know myself. Sometimes He may lead me to my bed to take a nap - it's true - but if I don't go to Him first, I'll never know what HE is intending for me that day.
So it is with hopeful steps today that I walk to my quiet time basket, grab the braided wicker handle, and make my way to the kitchen table again. I am looking forward to seeing how He will refresh this weary soul.
That thought was new to me - that perhaps I can have really good quiet time (defined by a new revelation, strong conviction, or feeling of closeness to God) EVERY SINGLE TIME. Maybe it isn't just meant to be here and there, as God works his way into my few minutes a day, but maybe I'm supposed to show up and wait for Him to show up too.
So each day during naptime I bring my quiet time basket to the kitchen table. I take out my Bible, journal, and gratitude journal, and I wait to see what happens.
There hasn't been a day where I've regretted that time I've spent with God.
But the silliest thing is, it's so hard for me to get to the kitchen table some days! I find a sense of urgency to check my email, Facebook, or cross SOMETHING off the to-do list, for heaven's sake! before I sit down and open my Bible.
My latest excuse for dawdling has been exhaustion. It has been a tiring stretch of parenting, and Zac has been gone a bit too so I've been single-parenting it. When Feven's naptime comes around, I find myself saying in my head, "I really need to take care of myself so I can be my best self for her. I should read a book for fun or have a little downtime this naptime. Maybe I should take a nap myself so I'm energized and ready to go when she is."
Just today at the kitchen sink I found myself thinking along these same lines. And from the back of my mind I remembered Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
I need to go to God for my restoration. Only he can refresh me and renew me in the ways I need. And while I think that I know those ways, he knows me infinitely better than I know myself. Sometimes He may lead me to my bed to take a nap - it's true - but if I don't go to Him first, I'll never know what HE is intending for me that day.
So it is with hopeful steps today that I walk to my quiet time basket, grab the braided wicker handle, and make my way to the kitchen table again. I am looking forward to seeing how He will refresh this weary soul.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Walkin' in Mama's Shoes
Feven, like all children, loves to walk around with Mom and Dad's shoes on.
However, it can get tiring really fast. So much work!
That's when you need to take a break and do a little yoga.
And if that doesn't get you moving again, you can always try the splits.
However, it can get tiring really fast. So much work!
That's when you need to take a break and do a little yoga.
And if that doesn't get you moving again, you can always try the splits.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
A Game-Changer
An adventure from the last few weeks...
I was having a rough day. I was caring for a friend's infant son and I just could not get him to be happy. So much crying! So much crying, in fact, that I joined in too. It was really hard.
My sore ears and perceived failure put me on a short-fuse cycle so that Feven's disobeying put me to just about crazy. I knew I needed a change of pace, so I decided to go shopping. Retail therapy? Maybe. But it was with a purpose. I wanted to pick up a few gifts for some friends we were going to be visiting soon.
I headed downtown to my favorite Ethiopian grocery store to start. And I'm pleased to say, it was all uphill from there. As I was walking into the store, an older gentleman held the door for me. Holding a child in one hand and a purse in another made his gesture a very welcomed one!
Once inside, I breathed heavily of the scent of Ethiopian spices and food. I spied the large bags of injera and listened to the Amharic spoken around me. I chatted with the owner to see if he had found a sambusa chef yet (no) and we laughed and talked about how much Feven was growing.
My heart was lifted just by this brief visit, but God wasn't through making me smile yet. I proceeded a few stores down to the "Addis Market." Traditional Ethiopian dresses hung in the large shop windows; long white material with bands of color for embellishment. I had to go in. I tugged on the door, but it was locked! An old woman sitting inside by a sewing machine smiled at me. But she didn't get up.
Confused, I asked a man passing by if he knew the shop's hours. He looked Ethiopian and somehow I figured he'd know. Don't ask me why. He said that he wasn't sure, but I should inquire at the barber shop two doors down.
Normal Amber would be too shy or embarrassed to do this, but for whatever reason I had lost my inhibitions and found myself plopping down in a barber shop seat and chatting with the two women working there. They told me that I could access the dress shop by going through the deli that was between us and the dress shop. "Follow me," one said, and I did.
Coatless in the cold Minnesota winter, my new barbershop friend led me next door, through the deli, and into the dress shop where there was also a music store. Again, somehow this seemed to be a very normal thing. I asked a little about the dress shop and learned the owner would be back tomorrow. Meanwhile, a small crowd was gathering around us. Feven tends to attract attention from a lot of people because she's so darn cute. However, she attracts the most attention when she's around Ethiopian people because they have all sorts of questions to ask! Soon we found ourselves conversing with the old woman by the sewing machine, the deli shop man, the barbershop friend, the music stand worker and a random guy off the street.
It sounds so crazy, but in the moment, it felt completely normal. I can't emphasize this enough! I think it reminded me of being in Ethiopia and the relational culture there.
I inquired about some music from the Oromo region of Ethiopia, and the music stand woman played me a CD. I liked it a lot and asked how much the CD cost. She tilted her head to the side as if to think on it a moment and then said, "Five dollars." In my head I was thinking, "Whoa! That's an amazing deal if it's just 5 dollars! I totally have to get this for my friends!"
I put my money on the counter and she didn't present the CD right away. Instead she said, "It will be a moment. I have to burn it."
?
So the CD I bought for my friends turned out to be a burned copy of the CD I listened to in the store! I knew my friends wouldn't mind because of the story that I now had to go along with it! Something about waiting for her to burn the CD and it being a burned copy reminded me of what it was like shopping in the markets while in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
As I waited for the CD, the Ethiopians around me continued conversing with me about Feven. What town is she from? What region? When did you get her? Does she speak Oromo? Can I hold her? They tried to speak both Oromo and Amharic to her to see if she remembered. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to remember those languages, or maybe she was just very shy around these people, because she didn't respond to them with recognition.
While I waited, my barbershop friend brought me a cup of coffee from the sewing machine area in a small, white teacup with the Ethiopian flag printed on it. They must have just had a coffee ceremony together because I noticed a few used cups also sitting on the plate where my coffee was poured. I received it with two hands, bowed my head slightly and said, "amesege'nallo." When I looked up she had a surprised smile on her face. I'm glad I could use one of my few Amharic words in an appropriate situation!
She then offered Feven some Dabo bread. It meant so much to me to be welcomed into this little group and be given coffee and Dabo bread. The kindness of these strangers made me forget the stress of the day and remember the gift I have in Feven and my family's special connection to Ethiopia.
We walked out shortly thereafter with our new CD in hand, a piece of dabo bread to snack on, and the taste of great coffee on our tongues (yes, even Feven had some too!). What a great turn-around to a rough day!
I was having a rough day. I was caring for a friend's infant son and I just could not get him to be happy. So much crying! So much crying, in fact, that I joined in too. It was really hard.
My sore ears and perceived failure put me on a short-fuse cycle so that Feven's disobeying put me to just about crazy. I knew I needed a change of pace, so I decided to go shopping. Retail therapy? Maybe. But it was with a purpose. I wanted to pick up a few gifts for some friends we were going to be visiting soon.
I headed downtown to my favorite Ethiopian grocery store to start. And I'm pleased to say, it was all uphill from there. As I was walking into the store, an older gentleman held the door for me. Holding a child in one hand and a purse in another made his gesture a very welcomed one!
Once inside, I breathed heavily of the scent of Ethiopian spices and food. I spied the large bags of injera and listened to the Amharic spoken around me. I chatted with the owner to see if he had found a sambusa chef yet (no) and we laughed and talked about how much Feven was growing.
My heart was lifted just by this brief visit, but God wasn't through making me smile yet. I proceeded a few stores down to the "Addis Market." Traditional Ethiopian dresses hung in the large shop windows; long white material with bands of color for embellishment. I had to go in. I tugged on the door, but it was locked! An old woman sitting inside by a sewing machine smiled at me. But she didn't get up.
Confused, I asked a man passing by if he knew the shop's hours. He looked Ethiopian and somehow I figured he'd know. Don't ask me why. He said that he wasn't sure, but I should inquire at the barber shop two doors down.
Normal Amber would be too shy or embarrassed to do this, but for whatever reason I had lost my inhibitions and found myself plopping down in a barber shop seat and chatting with the two women working there. They told me that I could access the dress shop by going through the deli that was between us and the dress shop. "Follow me," one said, and I did.
Coatless in the cold Minnesota winter, my new barbershop friend led me next door, through the deli, and into the dress shop where there was also a music store. Again, somehow this seemed to be a very normal thing. I asked a little about the dress shop and learned the owner would be back tomorrow. Meanwhile, a small crowd was gathering around us. Feven tends to attract attention from a lot of people because she's so darn cute. However, she attracts the most attention when she's around Ethiopian people because they have all sorts of questions to ask! Soon we found ourselves conversing with the old woman by the sewing machine, the deli shop man, the barbershop friend, the music stand worker and a random guy off the street.
It sounds so crazy, but in the moment, it felt completely normal. I can't emphasize this enough! I think it reminded me of being in Ethiopia and the relational culture there.
I inquired about some music from the Oromo region of Ethiopia, and the music stand woman played me a CD. I liked it a lot and asked how much the CD cost. She tilted her head to the side as if to think on it a moment and then said, "Five dollars." In my head I was thinking, "Whoa! That's an amazing deal if it's just 5 dollars! I totally have to get this for my friends!"
I put my money on the counter and she didn't present the CD right away. Instead she said, "It will be a moment. I have to burn it."
?
So the CD I bought for my friends turned out to be a burned copy of the CD I listened to in the store! I knew my friends wouldn't mind because of the story that I now had to go along with it! Something about waiting for her to burn the CD and it being a burned copy reminded me of what it was like shopping in the markets while in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.
As I waited for the CD, the Ethiopians around me continued conversing with me about Feven. What town is she from? What region? When did you get her? Does she speak Oromo? Can I hold her? They tried to speak both Oromo and Amharic to her to see if she remembered. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to remember those languages, or maybe she was just very shy around these people, because she didn't respond to them with recognition.
While I waited, my barbershop friend brought me a cup of coffee from the sewing machine area in a small, white teacup with the Ethiopian flag printed on it. They must have just had a coffee ceremony together because I noticed a few used cups also sitting on the plate where my coffee was poured. I received it with two hands, bowed my head slightly and said, "amesege'nallo." When I looked up she had a surprised smile on her face. I'm glad I could use one of my few Amharic words in an appropriate situation!
She then offered Feven some Dabo bread. It meant so much to me to be welcomed into this little group and be given coffee and Dabo bread. The kindness of these strangers made me forget the stress of the day and remember the gift I have in Feven and my family's special connection to Ethiopia.
We walked out shortly thereafter with our new CD in hand, a piece of dabo bread to snack on, and the taste of great coffee on our tongues (yes, even Feven had some too!). What a great turn-around to a rough day!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
When Kindness Comes Back Around
I love Aldi for their prices, but when I go there I always have to remember two things: I need to bring a quarter to use a cart, and I need to bring reusable bags because the grocery bags there aren't free.
A few months ago I had just finished checking out and was bagging my groceries when I noticed a woman beside me trying desperately to fit all of her groceries into one of the discarded produce boxes.
I looked at the five reusable bags in my hand, knowing that I would not fill them all, and made a decision to offer her one of my bags. After reassuring her I wouldn't need it and that it would make me happy to share, she took it.
You can check the security cameras, but I'm pretty sure I floated out the door. It felt so good to help someone else. It felt so good to share what I had.
Fast forward to last week. I was shopping in the evening at Aldi and had found more things than I came for. (Who can resist their low, low prices?) As I waited for my turn at the cash register, a woman and her little girl were just leaving the store and happened to roll their cart past my line. She glanced my way, saw my cart, noticed I had no grocery bags, and handed me an extra one she had.
I was baffled! It was deja vu but this time I was on the other side. I was grateful for her kindness and touched by her generosity.
I guess it's worth checking the security cameras again, because I just might have floated out from the store a second time. What a privilege to watch kindness come back around.
A few months ago I had just finished checking out and was bagging my groceries when I noticed a woman beside me trying desperately to fit all of her groceries into one of the discarded produce boxes.
I looked at the five reusable bags in my hand, knowing that I would not fill them all, and made a decision to offer her one of my bags. After reassuring her I wouldn't need it and that it would make me happy to share, she took it.
You can check the security cameras, but I'm pretty sure I floated out the door. It felt so good to help someone else. It felt so good to share what I had.
Fast forward to last week. I was shopping in the evening at Aldi and had found more things than I came for. (Who can resist their low, low prices?) As I waited for my turn at the cash register, a woman and her little girl were just leaving the store and happened to roll their cart past my line. She glanced my way, saw my cart, noticed I had no grocery bags, and handed me an extra one she had.
I was baffled! It was deja vu but this time I was on the other side. I was grateful for her kindness and touched by her generosity.
I guess it's worth checking the security cameras again, because I just might have floated out from the store a second time. What a privilege to watch kindness come back around.
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