The Plumb Line

You know what's difficult about being a parent?

There are no doubt many, many difficult tasks we could list here:  refereeing sibling battles, cleaning up daily spills of bright red juice, stepping in a sticky spot on the floor made by a bright red juice spill, not losing your religion as you try to peel your fuzzy white sock out of the red sticky mess, removing stains from clothes, keeping up with the laundry, mating socks...I digress.

What I am finding difficult of late, as a parent and really, as an adult, is sifting and sorting through the vast amount of information that comes flooding into our home in any given five minutes of everyday.

It. is. overwhelming.

I just finished a book by Jacques Bonnet who has amassed a library of over 10,000 books in his lifetime. He wrote in his book that the internet has changed the landscape of book collecting since its creation many years ago and that his personal library would look very different if he'd had the internet as a resource during his years of gathering books.

"The problem," he rightly says, "in years to come will not be how to accumulate books in order to have them within reach, but to find one's way through the exponentially mass of publications."

One would think that a bookish person like me would cheer the ever-increasing volume of books available for the choosing and there is a part of my heart that does sing over all of the opportunity. The other part of my heart chimes doom when I think about parenting my children through the rising sea of information.

It's not simply a question of what is or is not appropriate for the ages and stages of the children. That would be an easy one to figure out...

"ESPN.com? Sure no problem, just don't look at all those ads."

" Can you watch Phineas and Ferb? Hmmmm, it's on The Disney Channel and is aimed at young kids, sure."

"You want to read the latest Young Adult fiction displayed front and center in the kid's section of the bookstore, well it IS in the kid's section...go ahead."

Unfortunately, it is not that simple. Sure, the shows on Disney are {for the most part?} fine for the kids, but, the real issue, whether you are 7 or 40, is whether it is the very best way for them to spend their time? Will watching Phineas and Ferb add quality to their day?

If I let my young teen read the latest novel aimed at him by publishers who sit in tall buildings in New York, will his brain be forever damaged if he comes up against an objectionable passage? Probably not, but should I allow him to fritter his time away with books that are "less than"? Do I throw "fluff" books at my reluctant readers just to get them into the habit of reading? Is that a good use of their mental energy? How much time does a four year old need to spend on SproutOnline.com in a morning, are those minutes adding value to her existence or merely adding peace to mine?

Add to that questions of authors/actors/sports figures/bloggers with a Christian vs. secular world view? It's daunting.

In his book, Steal Like An Artist, Austin Kleon reminds me, "You are a mashup of what you choose to let into your life. You are the sum of your influences."

No pressure there! It's a heavy responsibility not only to look after one's own influencers but also to look after the influencers of four young lives who face a world of information just begging for their attention.

One of my favorite musicians, Andrew Peterson, is also an author and an excellent one. He has written a children's books series that has received the highest praise from many corners of the writing community. A parent of three children, Peterson has good words to share on being the gatekeeper of our kids' exposure.

It's always good to know a little about the author before letting your children read a book, and I'd prefer my children read books by Christians at first--that is, if the book is a good one. It's a load of fun being, in essence, the curator of your children's experience in literature and music, but it's also a big responsibility. Not only do I not want them reading books that convey falsehoods, I don't want them reading books that are poorly written. That's what makes {C.S.} Lewis' books such a gift. They tell the truth, and they're beautifully written for the most part. Start there. Let them get a good sense of truth and excellence. After that, they'll have a plumb line to measure the other stuff against. I'm probably more averse to a badly written book by a Christian than an excellent work by someone who isn't. (from an interview with Tabletalk Magazine October 2012)

A plumb line to measure the other stuff against... that's the phrase that rang my bell. That then is my job as a parent to set the plumb line and set it high enough and vibrant enough for my children to discern what they allow into their sphere of influence. I'm sure we'll all experience a book or a TV show or two that fall below the standards we are attempting to set, but my prayer is that we will be able to quickly realize what is "less than" and what is "worthy" of our fleeting time here on this earth.

Finally brothers whatever is true whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

~Philippians 4:8~

A Little Rhyme for the Brand New Year

One contented mama, sitting on a window sill,

looking at a stack of books, enjoying peace until...

...a brown-eyed child appears, 

in her hands a princess book.

She climbs up in the window

to take another look.

Soon THIS young lady walks right up

to chat for just a while...

and another warm tobogganed kid

drops by to share a smile.

Four bookish happy cozy folks now sit

in the chilly window frame...

when a cute pink pair of boots trot up

who share the same last name.

Close behind that pair of cute pink boots,

my Man should happen by

...to share a little grin with me,

then he sits and shuts his eyes.

A bookstore in the evening.

Falling snow to add some cheer.

My family gathered all around

to greet the brand New Year!

Happy Happy Happy Happy

New Year

from

The Wright Place!

Sittin' Pretty

I ordered the wrong pizza last night.

Nobody seemed to care as much as I did but I can't seem to get over it. We order pizza maybe a half-dozen times a year and it is such a treat to open the lid and lean into the dreamy scent of the cheesy steam that escapes the box. Last night when I opened the box I expected to see a puffy crust encircling a delicate 6-cheese combination of loveliness, instead there was thin crust. Two boxes full of thin crust.

The thin crust and I, we are not friends.

I'd ordered on my phone with an app and when I hit the little button that said "Complete Order" I actually said aloud, "What is this world coming to? I can order pizza on the way home from the store, from the car without talking to a single person. It's really kind of amazing isn't it?" To which my Man said with all of the wonder that he could muster, "Yes, it really is."

I was significantly less amazed when I opened the pizza box.

What really is amazing is how a poorly selected button on a pizza app on my phone can still be irking me all these many hours later. My Man, in response to this morning's replay of the pizza lamentations, said "You just need a pizza do over don't ya?"

"Oh yes," I said grinning big that he understood. "On that and so much more."

Often the days between Christmas and New Year's are generally a time of mentally tweaking the celebration that has been. Smiling about what went well, and wishing that an event or two had gone differently. I'll think of a Christmas card that should have been mailed that wasn't. I'll remember something I'd wanted to do this year that was cast aside once more. I'll be wanting to have made a different plan with the allocation of resources... be it time or energy or finances.

"I need a bunch of do overs this year," I told him and then listed a handful of examples for emphasis.

"Ah," said he nodding, "but today is good."

He's not wrong.


In the kitchen, the fridge is full (including left-over thin crust pizza which will be lunch) and so is the crock pot.

Outside, six inches of snow covers the ground and the trees and the mailbox.

Upstairs, the voice of an excited seven-year-old makes plans to disrupt the peaceful snowy scene with sleds and snowballs.

On the TV there will be football and lots of it.

In a make-shift beauty salon a while ago, a four-year-old was given free reign with her mama's fingernails

Beside me right now is a stack of books, selected with care and given as a gift.

On the other side of me sits my Man, who has the flu, but who still thinks that today is good.

And it is...it really, really is.

The Christmas Post

It's Christmas evening and bedtime approaches. As usual I'm perched on the couch, feet up, and  reflecting. The days leading up to today have been filled to bursting with "want to's" and "must do's" and the sudden break in the schedule today has been such a welcome one.

Our day began with some forced stillness...

"Christmas morning," said Cole, "otherwise known as the ONLY day of the year that Molly ever sleeps in!"

Eventually, after all sleepy heads were accounted for, our Christmas morning officially began.

We had a lovely day of presents and play. 

Nowhere to be except TOGETHER, which was indeed my favorite gift of all.

Christmas Posts from the archives...

• Christmas Rest {2009}
• Christmas Day Delights {2010}
• The Eves {2010}
• Merry Christmas {2011}

The Cure for the Ho-Hum Christmas

As the Christmas season approaches each year I am usually giddy with expectation. I'm not even irked when Christmas displays share department store space beside of swimsuits. When the first cold snap hits, I start thinking about snickerdoodles and eggnog lattes. It's all about the anticipation.

This year however, is not one of those years. This year my Christmas spirit has been somewhat timid. My fire just won't seem to ignite. I'm like a lighter that has just run out of fluid - the click produces a promising spark but then...nothing. I feel a bit like the house below on the right...

It's not the first Christmas that I've been a slow starter and I'm sure it won't be the last, but the responsibility to lead the family charge into the season, to be the source of the Christmas spirit, as it were, weighs heavy.

That's the large, glaring problem. Isn't it?

I am not, nor will I ever be the Keeper of the Family Christmas, much less the source of its spirit. That position was filled long ago by the manger-Baby and no other need attempt such status. I already knew that of course, but I feel the pressure nonetheless.

I may rightly claim my place as chief cookie baker, boss of the elves, hanger of the greens, Christmas craft supervisor even, but never the source of the Christmas spirit...never. I've been approaching this season very much like an old nativity set the kids have played with for years, it's a cute little set, but the Baby Jesus was lost amid all of the Christmas decoration years ago.

Just before December began my Man told me about a wonderful Christmas Advent ebook by John Piper called Good News of Great Joy which is free, and downloadable to my eReader. I have recommended it to everyone who will listen because many of Piper's Christmas musings strike my search for the Savior amidst the shiny plastic of this season at its heart.

Directions for downloading the ebook are here.

Another book that helps to reset my Advent perspective goes by two titles. Written by wordsmith Max Lucado, it was originally released as A Cosmic Christmas and has since been re-released as An Angel's Story.

My family and I have read aloud this fictional account of the Christmas story through the eyes of the angels who lend an amazing perspective of what could have been happening in the unseen world as the heavens prepared for the Savior's birth. It's also available, though not free, in ebook form on Kindle (here) or on Nook (here). I suspect you will find this short story well worth the price.

I'm a Christmas music fanatic and feel that it is NEVER too early to start listening to Christmas tunes. My Man however has a strict (ish) "only after Thanksgiving" rule that I try to abide by when he's around. My all-time favorite Christmas album will always be Amy Grant's Home for Christmas
and I always find instrumental albums like this one so peaceful and calming. This year in our home and car this brand new album by Francesca Battestelli is getting lots of play.

These items have helped to kindle my Christmas spirit because they have, each in their own way, re-directed my attention to the reason we celebrate...to the One we celebrate! 

AND...a dear new nativity has found its way into our home and our hearts which is NOT missing the Baby Jesus...I pray your Christmas season finds you in exactly the same condition!

One Word at a Time

Nothing in me wanted to go out for a run this morning. Nothing. I was nervous about a twisted ankle, I was whiny about the cold weather, I was overwhelmed by all that I had to accomplish and I resented the time it was going to take me to go out and run. I knew though that if I didn't go out today, I'd feel like a real wimp.

On my way up a nasty hill I saw, coming downhill toward me, the familiar face of a lady I often saw  early in my "fitness journey".  I'd usually pass her as she walked, pushing her grandson in a stroller. At the end of my route, we'd pass once more, me walking up the big hill as she was returning home going down the hill. Always, we'd share a good morning and sometimes a sentence or two more.

Today I waved at her as she approached. She waved back and said something to me but I couldn't hear because of my headphones. I removed the plug from my ear and told her "Merry Christmas" guessing that perhaps that's what she had said. She shook her head and said smiling at me..."AMAZING!!"

I think she was commenting about my running a stretch of pavement she used always to see me walking but I think something else was AMAZING. That she, a virtual stranger, would cheer me, another stranger, on my way up a difficult hill. She could have just waved back and kept on walking but she took the time to verbally pat me on the back and then repeat it after I'd not heard her the first time. You know what else is amazing? That that one word is still making me smile here at the other end of my day. One well-placed, well-timed word from a stranger.

I wondered then how many words I'd neglected to utter today that could have had the same effect on someone heading up a difficult hill...maybe the teacher who was working the after-school shift at Target after working all day teaching kindergarten, or the little girl who displayed a good attitude in the face of extra spelling words this morning, or a friend who is enduring an insanely difficult job.

Silence is precious to me. It is so much easier to walk on by. Often I don't really want to know when the cashier's shift ends or what my four year old thinks of the episode of Dora she watched this morning, and it's scary to ask a teenager what he or she is thinking sometimes.

It's not all about me is it?

Oh, let me not be stingy with my words. Let me be sincere and generous with them so as to build up and spur on, not so I'll have something to pat myself on the back about, but because of the game-changer it could well be for another someone's day, loved-one and stranger alike.

Care to join me? We'll cover so much more territory that way...one AMAZING word at a time!

 A word fitly spoken

is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.

~Proverbs 25:11~

A Kindness Observed

I had a brush with meanness not long ago. Words not directed at me or even in my general direction, meanness nonetheless. The victim of this meanness will, I pray, never know of it. Meanness is like that at times, cowardly and hidden, whispering from the shadows & tearing down by ragged inches. Meanness seeks to build up its source at all costs. One would think meanness more likely to strike clean and lethal at the target...but no, too neat, too quick, too much risk.

Meanness is a real life monster. Kindness is just as real, and just as contagious.

I also had quite a brush with kindness not long ago. Deeds not directed at me or even in my general direction but kindness rippled my way and splashed at my toes. The recipient of this kindness will not know all about its sources because kindness is quiet and graceful, building up and fortifying, shining warmth into cold crannies. Kindness doesn't desire credit or applause, kindness needs only to be received by its object.

Tonight I was the direct object of kindness. It walked up to the door, opened it, and placed in my hands a basket full of hot buttered rolls.

"You said earlier that you were having soup for dinner tonight," Kindness said softly, "I thought you might enjoy these with it."

She'd made an extra trip. She has her own family to feed. She had had a long day too. She turned on her oven for me! Kindness in a basket, tucked under a linen napkin to stay warm.  Kindness quietly expressed is kindness loudly observed and deeply appreciated.

Popcorn Cookies!

Last week when I wrote about how to pop popcorn on the stovetop, I received lots of comments about other fun things to do with popcorn. Check out the comments here. I also received an email from a friend who described an even better way to prepare popcorn...

Hey, you can also pop popcorn in a brown paper lunch bag in the microwave.  Cheap! Cheap!  No preservatives, no nothing.  Just add corn, enough to cover bottom of bag, fold top of bag down several times, and pop!  No messy, greasy soup kettle to clean! 

p.s.  if you like hot stuff, Frank’s Red Hot Buffalo Sauce is really good on popcorn too! 

How 'bout that for easy and convenient? Now, since we've got the popcorn easily at hand...I've got a fun recipe to go with it or for it to go with...or for with it to go...oh dear it's beginning to feel like a Monday for sure. A few weeks ago I came across a wonderful new cookbook, written by Deb Perelman, the author of one of my favorite food blogs Smitten Kitchen.

Featured on the back cover and inside in beautifully photographed glory are these cookies.

Simple and unique, they are so easy to bake and a real adventure to eat.

Recipe from The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook

{Printable recipe here}

Here's what you need:

4 to 4 1/2 cups popcorn, buttered and salted (and unpopped kernels sorted out)

1/2 cup butter (1 stick), softened

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1/3 cup sugar

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 1/4 cup flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Here's what to do:

In the bowl of an electric mixer add softened butter {I used margarine in one batch and the butter batch was much better. The margarine will do if you don't want to run to the store, but if you have a choice, use the real deal} brown sugar, sugar, egg and vanilla and mix until well combined.

In a separate bowl sift together (with a whisk) the flour and the baking soda. 

With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in small batches to the sugar mixture stopping mixer from time to time to scrape the bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula.

Now for the fun, and for the trickiest part of our endeavor...fold the popcorn into the cookie dough. 

Mrs. Perelman instructs, "Fold in the cooled popcorn so that it is evenly distributed through the batter, which will seem like a ridiculous instruction because there is so much popcorn and so little cookie batter but it works."

She also says not to fret over the pieces of popcorn that will inevitably break, "the mixed-size pieces are a part of the cookie's charm."

I don't know about you, but I'm a big fan of a gal who sees charm in a cookie!

Spoon dough in very heaping tablespoon sized scoops onto cookie sheets making sure to leave 2 inches between cookies. 

Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 being very careful not to over bake. 

One recipe yields about 2 dozen cookies, give or take a few which were surely consumed in dough form! 

They really are best in buttered-popcorn-cookie-dough form, but bake them if you must!

NOTE: These cookies need to be kept in a sealed container so that they stay fresh as long as possible. Plan to eat them no longer than 2 days after baking, after that, the popcorn can get rather stale.