Vitamin Birthday

I woke up at 5:20 am this morning, which is highly amazing since I was born at 5:20 am exactly 32 years ago. My eyes just popped open and directed themselves to the clock, and I thought, huh.

The sun was just rising, and through our window the clouds showed pink against the dusky sky. I thought Huh again in an ‘I-never-knew-I-could-see-the-sunrise-without-leaving-my-bed’ kind of way, and I thought, That’s beautiful.

Then I went back to sleep.

But later, when the day really started, it turned out to be just as surprising. The night before, we’d been gifted with a mountain of freshly-picked raspberries, which we smothered in freshly-picked peaches and freshly-picked honeydew. It was the breakfast of champions – completely only by my first ever “Sarah’s Choice” gift-giving arrangement.

“Would you like your present from all of us now or later?” My husband innocently asked me as we concluded our meal. Well, I’m no dummy: Later gives me less time to enjoy it! In a few moments, I was swathed in the girly pinkness of a cozy robe, amidst the oohs and ahs of my children. “That’s from us?” They asked in amazement. They didn’t know they had such good taste.

Next, I got to open a gift card for my first-ever facial: It was shaping up to be a whole day of firsts!

Then I got to play piano in preparation for my first-ever involvement in our church’s praise and worship tomorrow.

Then I got to sing silly songs with Raffi (and my five-year old son) for an enjoyable hour as we drove to a neighboring city, the enjoyment of which was considerably heightened by having just consumed my first stout cup (and a half) of coffee in many weeks. The caffeine, I think, also aided in my propensity for tears when, after another, less enjoyable hour, I found myself still driving in circles on the wrong side of the big city. Thank God for letting someone (and you k now who you are) answer their phone and look up my location on the internet, or I’d still be asking directions … and crying … on my birthday.

But all’s well that ends well – and before long Ethan and I had our errands completed – I’d bopped my way back home – and who should show up but a friend, eager to buy the behemoth fridge that’s been sitting on our front porch, reminding us of our American excesses? How lovely to send this beauty to a good home where it’s really needed – and equally lovely to recoup a decent part of our expenses in purchasing it! Now I can dream of a porch swing … or at least a clear view of my driveway out the front window. Hooray!

And thus, the day began to wind down … but not before my kitchen rose up and created some masterpieces under my caffeinated instruction: Whole wheat, virtually sugar-free donuts (which were, by the way, phenomenal – especially since they were shaped like hearts) – Really Good Potato Salad (also vegan) – more fruit and veggies, including corn on the cob – and apple cider. Wow! We decided the donuts had only 32 calories each, so that puts me at a mere 128. I’m pretty proud of that!

Oh, and did I mention the dinner company? A row of four smiling young faces – we added in my nephew Levi to the mix – and another of smiling older ones – Charley and Rachel came along, too. They brought flowers with them that smell like heaven, and music, too – the completed version of a song I’d written for Charley many years ago. So again, another first: I’ve never been performed for on my birthday!

We topped off the day with a sunset walk and a brisk game of tag. Levi motored around the grass flapping his arms and squealing … and the rest of us did about the same thing in varying degrees of adultness. My husband read the Bible to me before I fell asleep, and this is what I heard: “O God, You are my God; earnestly I will seek You. … Preserve my life from fear of the enemy … You crown the Year with Your goodness, and your paths drip with abundance.” (Psalm 63-65)

Today was a love note from my Savior. I count myself amazingly blessed.

Vitamin Lockout

It was late. Too late, really, to be proud of. My seven-year old son Jared had been asking me all morning if I could please watch his new trick on the tree. Daddy had given him a length of webbing, and after fashioning a makeshift elevator, Jared rapidly progressed to Trapeze Training 101. His body flailed and flapped at the end of that rope like a flag in an afternoon breeze.

But now it really was afternoon, and in the hum of my busy day, I hadn’t yet taken the time to oblige him. “I’ll be there in just a minute,” I’d murmured more than once. But this time, I really meant it. I set down my knife, left the tomato half-sliced, and sauntered out the front door.

“Here I come,” I announced feebly.

“All right!” Jared hollered as he sped past me toward ‘his tree. My arrival garnered far more enthusiasm from him than I inwardly felt: I’d been at the grindstone all day, and my energy reserves were shot.

Jared’s, however, couldn’t have been better. He performed a stellar Ropes routine on his webbing, beaming at my coveted attention. When it was all over, I gave him a round of applause and a short wave, then gathered my two younger children and headed back toward the house and my work.

But this was not to be. Ethan, my five-year-old, had dutifully closed the door behind him.
Sorry, Mom, his blue eyes seemed to say as I struggled with the unyielding doorknob. I guess you taught me too well.

We tried the back door. We checked the windows. And soon, it was official: Unless I wanted to walk barefoot to the nearest neighbor’s house, we’d be stuck outside until my husband came home.

I could have screamed – but I just did not have the energy.

Instead, I sat down on the back porch – gathered my four-year old daughter into my lap – and gave her a squeeze. I lay on the grass and watched the boys on the swing. I stared at the sky – and I felt my blood pressure go down. Later – much later – when my husband finally arrived home – he found a much-improved wife from the one who stepped out the door a while earlier. The kids, too, sensed the difference, and though our dinner had to wait due to unexpected delays … no one really seemed to mind.

Could I have prevented this hour-long delay? Perhaps. But sometimes ,I think getting locked out of my ‘normal’ life is a blessing. Maybe I could have gotten more done that day – but who would have suffered in the process? Maybe I’ll schedule in a few more ‘accidents’ like this: They could be good for my health!

Vitamin Dust

It is time
to wash our van.
The grime, in layers stands.
The poor rig - it's traveled
many
long
miles
from where its once began,
and surely longs to be clean.

But see, this dust, right here?
It is treasured dust,
dirt from whence we came;
and in the evening light
I've watched it fade
and sparkle
and gleam
like a thousand flecks of gold.

And oh, dear, how I fear
the day that gold dust goes!

It's like a blanket -
securely ensconsing this trip
in the wonderful cloak of the past.

But ...it is time.

Soon, soon, I'll wash this van,
and our dusty, dingy
ride will shine
with the taunting red gleam
of the untraveled roads
left to find.

Vitamin Seek

"I do not seek yours, but you." - 2 Corinthians 12:14

"Who wants to help me cook dinner?" It's a common enough question around my house, and the response is just as predictable.

"Me! Me! Me!" From three separate corners of the house, three eager voices chime in, anxious to be the first to win the coveted spot on the stool next to Mommy. It's glorious to feel so wanted ... to know how much my children long to help me.

But soon their other motivation shines through.

"Do you see that white stuff there on the counter?" my three year old asks as soon as she's suited up in an apron and handed the appropriate mixing spoon. Busy with my recipe, I nod. It's probably flour - maybe sugar. I've forgotten what's always comes next.

"Well, can I lick it up?" my daughter asks. Her eyes are shining. She's positive that the mystery substance will be the reward she was seeking when she volunteered to be my helper in the first place.

I stop work and gaze at her momentarily, caught for a second by the poignancy of her simple, yet ardent, desire for this 'treat' - placed, as it is, next to what should have been treat enough, getting to work next to Mom. I'm immediately pricked by the strong similarity between she, my precious and transparent child, and me, God's own treat-seeking, double-minded daughter

Work with Me, He says sweetly, each day. I've a wonderful project to share!

Oh yes! I respond, fooling myself that time wiht Him is all I desire. But as soon as the real work begins, I'm distracted by the ingredients He chooses. Can I have some of that? I ask, pointing to a particulary delectable blessing. And that? And that? And that? Standing side by side as He works, we're sharing space and time in what should be the most amicable of all possible settings - creating a good thing together. However, the beauty of such closeness - the joy and privilege of being intimately connected to any project set out by my Lord - is not fully evident to my eyes. I'm glazed over. Staring at the bounty before me, I overlook the greater Bounty at my side.

How often does this scenario play itself out? In my home, often daily. In my life, I don't know. But praise my great Parent! He never seems to tire of asking, "Will you join Me?" -- and that gives me plenty of chances to remember to get it right. The ingredients in each of His creations are important, for sure. But time with my Father, the Creator is worth more than them all put together. That's what I hope to seek the next time He asks me to join Him. That's where the real reward lies.

There

the candle breathes

upon a lowly table.

It's light opens, softens

warms the room in which

it sits.

This light, I'm drawn to it

Drawn in it as a new creation:

One softer, warmer, visible only

in the subtle illumintations it brings.

There

the lightbulb shines -

A mechanical thing, for sure.

It's light as well, though:

Brighter, piercing, clean.

It lets nothing hide.

It casts all 'soft' away.

And yet, it is light.

Some prefer that type of light.

To judge would be undoing.

For truly, either of these brights

Will fade, if daylight's wooing.

Vitamin Worship

Worship - I

Perform it in so many ways.

Work is worship - when done right.

Sleep is worship, too.

Tears are worship, in the night

Or shed with thoughts of You.

Song is worship. Dance as well.

Speaking. Silence. Prayer.

Food is worship. I must tell

That worship is my Air!

Vitamin Chris

You could have grown

an angry man

deep within your soul.

He could have grown

an angry you

and filled your heart all full

Of angry words

and angry thoughts

and angry actions, too.

Instead you've grown

into a large

and wiser, better you.

Thank you.

I love you.

-- your wife.