A Few of My Favorite Things

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... Is it just me or does the list from the song "Favorite Things" puzzle you too? I remember singing it for a choral performance in elementary school and thinking how strange some of the choices were. Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings? And what is schnitzel with noodles? Not to offend my Austrian and German friends - I'm sure it's delicious! Now, a steaming bowl of soba (buckwheat) noodles with fishcakes and vegetables, I understand....yummm. It's a cultural thing, and one must adapt the song to your own personal experience and taste. So here is a list of a few of my favorite things:

1. Fluffy, cotton comforters to curl up in on cool evenings

2. Oversized purses and bags

3. A large, steaming cup of strong coffee or latte any time of the day

4. An uninterrupted soak in a hot bath

5. A pile of new books to read from the library

6. Crispy mornings in the Fall and Winter, especially around the holidays

7. Tea parties

8. Poking about a cluttered antique store for unexpected treasures

9. Crunchy Japanese rice crackers

10. Going fruit picking

Certainly there are more, but this was a spontaneous post. And it's late, and one of my favorite things is waiting for me to curl up in it and go to sleep. I bid you adieu, adieu, adieu. Until next time!

A Personal Journey

I am about to embark on a huge personal journey. Like the woman in the Bible with the issue of blood who spent everything she had on doctors but only found her condition worsen, I too have had a health issue for decades that doctors could not help. It started when I was three years old, and my poor mother dragged me to numerous doctors and specialists to find a cure. We tried all the treatments - putting coal tar ointments on my skin, wrapping it in plastic wrap, putting patches of medicinal tape all over - to no avail. I've suffered with psoriasis, a skin condition that results in red, dry, sometimes itchy patches of skin on various parts of the body. It has mainly showed up on my arms and legs, though at times it has appeared on my face and on my scalp.

I grew up with it not bothering me too much or affecting my self esteem, though sometimes people would make ignorant comments about my skin. Having psoriasis has not held me back from many areas of life, and I even did some modeling for a few years during and after high school. But as a Christian who believes in divine healing, it has been in those circles where I have felt the most pressure to "be healed." I've sought God, knew I would see the manifestation of healing and have clear, radiantly beautiful skin and also gain understanding about the underlying causes of this disease as well as gain balance in my life as part of the healing process. I always sensed that healing for psoriasis had to take place from the inside out - something from deep within was causing the patches and itchy skin.

Recently I came across a resource that incorporates faith and natural measures to bring healing for psoriasis, and I am embarking on this journey in a few days. It requires a major commitment on my part to form better lifestyle habits and to take good care of myself. I am so thankful for the Lord leading me to this place in such a gentle manner. My posts will also document the changes, challenges and ongoing journey with God. I want my temple to be the most honoring testimony to the greatness of God, but I continually rejoice that, regardless of anything physical, I am a child of God, made perfect in His image.

Significant Moment #2: God's Love reflected is Beautiful

Mirror, Mirror on the wall... The year after I re-committed my life to Christ, my church sponsored a Women's Conference that significantly impacted my life. The main speaker, Cheryl Prewitt Salem (Miss America 1980), shared a message about God's restoration that captivated my attention. Her testimony of God's faithfulness in the face of numerous obstacles, both physically and emotionally, was amazing - her road to becoming Miss America was truly miraculous, as she suffered from physical challenges including a shortened leg and facial scars. She did not win many pageants but tenaciously hung onto what God had spoken to her. Eventually she made it to the Miss America pageant and won the title, triumphantly proclaiming God's Word in the year of her reign. I was thrilled by the opportunity to visit her ministry headquarters in Tulsa, OK when I moved there to attend Bible School. It was located in a posh shopping center and was also a store selling pageant clothing. I visited several times to purchase books and taped messages. Next door was a beautiful bridal shop. I couldn't resist the urge to step inside one day and marveled at the intimate, elegant room showcasing dreamy dresses and accessories. On the back wall was a large mirror in an elaborate gold frame. As I drew closer to it, I realized that I could not bear to look into it. In this wonderful room with perfect lighting designed to make any woman feel beautiful, I had to turn away from my reflection. I felt too vulnerable and exposed and also feared what would be revealed if I looked too closely into that mirror. I left the store and drove away stunned - I'd never experienced anything like that, obviously looking into mirrors at home daily in order to put on make-up or to fix my hair. I returned to the bridal store whenever I visited Cheryl Prewitt Salem's ministry and always found that I could not look into the mirror. I even brought a friend with me once to visit both places, curious about her response to the mirror. She looked into it with no hesitation and didn't seem to find anything extraordinary about the mirror or her reflection. I took a quick peek at myself from behind her and was immediately filled with remorse and embarrassment. That was the last time I went to that store. Soon after, I graduated and returned home to Virginia. Flash forward several years. During a whirlwind visit to Bulgaria to attend Bible School graduations throughout the country, I walked to a little hut selling convenience items to get a drink. Another American woman travelling with me reacted severely to the vile magazines littering the opening to the hut by the cashier and made no attempt to disguise her impatience with the language barrier or slow manner of the Gypsy lady operating the store. When my turn came, I struggled to get out the few words I'd tried to memorize in the guttural Bulgarian language and apologetically smiled at the Gypsy cashier. She asked me a question, and I turned to our interpreter to find out what she said. During our brief interaction, she said she saw God in me. A moment of kindness versus judgment in the midst of various vices - Thank You, Lord, for Your love that transcends languages and culture and reaches even the hidden corners of Eastern Europe! I had several opportunities on that trip and during my longer stay in Bulgaria to spend time among Gypsies, a displaced, outcast group of fiercely proud and beautiful people. I felt closer to God and the ministry of His Word flowed freely in their simple village churches and humble dwellings. When they worshipped God, it was joyful and heartfelt. After each church service, the old women embraced us as they offered us chocolates. I'll never forget having to use the bathroom and discovering that meant climbing over a fence into a large, muddy pig pen. The wooden shack in the midst of the muck had huge gaps in the crisscrossed boards, barely offering any privacy. Concerned about invading the pig's space as well as getting stuck in the mud, I decided that my bladder would have to wait the hours until I returned to town. I was showered with love and affection - from a Gypsy man operating a roadside stand who sliced open a watermelon with his large knife and gave it freely out of concern for our being out in the heat, to the Bible School students in a remote Gypsy town who locked arms with me as we walked to a nearby home for refreshments. A devoted pastor who worked tirelessly to serve his town and establish the Word of God in those under his care paid me the highest compliment as I chatted and played with his young son. He said he saw God in me. Working out the issues surrounding my own reflection has been an ongoing process, but what matters most is reflecting Jesus. The moon has no light source of its own and reflects the Sun. Jesus is our Light and has declared that we too are lights in this world. The book of John has so many references to this! May we be as faithful as the moon to steadfastly reflect the One who is Light and Love.

Significant Moment #1: God responds to our heart cry

As in many areas of my life, my blog is quite eclectic, a mix of funny parenting moments to spiritual musings to sharing challenging life experiences. I had a moving dream the other night that reminded me of other "significant moments," when I sensed God giving me a message of sorts in order to bring encouragement, healing, understanding and life lessons. A few came in the form of dreams but most were through experiences when I sensed God's Spirit encouraging me to take note and remember the specific lesson. The dream from the other night brought me back to the time I was in Bible School and showed me another perspective on a situation that was quite painful to me. The two years at school were supposed to be some of "the best times" in my life, but they were difficult ones for me. I never felt like I fit in and often felt incredible loneliness. God has used those very things in my life to reach people - I often notice people who hover around the perimeter in groups and my heart goes out to them. I remember speaking at a church in Ethiopia. The majority of the crowd was exuberant during a time of worship, but my attention was drawn to several quiet figures sitting in the back corners. I sensed that God wanted to touch them and called them forward. It was a precious time of ministry, holding their hands and whispering privately to them the message God wanted them to hear. The greatness of our God is in the one on one relationship He yearns to have with each of us. He really knows us and responds to us individually. Back to the dream... In it, I was once again filled with the sense of not belonging and loneliness. A person I admired drew me into the center of a room and sat down with me on a sofa facing many others. I was expecting to be rejected in a nice Christian sort of way, told that I didn't quite belong and encouraged to find another place. Instead, this person sat down with me regardless of the audience to gently affirm and express an interest in me. The surprise in the room was tangible, and my own heart was filled with wonder. This person proceeded to specifically list things that showed me I had been noticed and that the interest was genuine. I woke up with a sweet sensation of having been touched by God. There was healing and peace in a place where sorrow and pain had lingered. That brings to mind another experience that took place in Ethiopia. At the end of a service, several of us visiting from the States were asked to come forward to pray with those responding to the altar call. The crowd was huge, and we moved among the people with our interpreters, laying hands on and praying for different individuals. At the end of that time, as I was making my way back my seat, I passed a cute little boy standing with his mother. I reached out to pat his head affectionately as I walked by him, and immediately his hands shot up as he assumed a position of receiving. He was immediately filled with the Holy Spirit, loudly expressing worship in the most beautiful way. The crowd around him hushed and watched him in amazement. This was a quiet child, maybe around five or six years old. I hadn't touched him with the intention of praying for him, yet his heart was wide open to the Lord, hungry and ready to receive from Him. Many of the adults around him who had answered the altar call were busy trying to receive from God - rather than quietly opening their hearts to receive prayer, they often prayed louder and harder than the person trying to minister to them. In the midst of this chaos, a little child simply reached out to God and received what the others were trying so hard to make manifest. This boy received a touch from heaven. God reached out in the midst of chaos and adults clamoring to get God's attention to respond to the open and humble heart of a little boy. It was a wonderful site to behold and a powerful lesson to me. This experience has stayed with me throughout the years and is one of the key "significant moments" of my life. It is a reminder that God truly sees our hearts no matter what is going on and responds to us in an individual way. Our part is to seek Him with sincerity - He may not respond in the way we anticipated, but He does respond to His children. As a matter of fact, His Word is full of loving responses, if we'll quiet ourselves and seek Him. Selah. I must remember this as well.

Moments in the Baxter Zoo

I have alternated between being an ostrich and burying my head under the sands of life; a mule slowly and stubbornly plodding up, down and around the curves of this journey; a chimpanzee darting from this activity to that, chattering and making joyful noises while finding pleasure in simple things. Long sigh, the elegant analogy of my life as a zoo... I am currently in North Carolina housesitting and dogsitting for my brother. Yesterday, Sean and I gave a bath to his dog. As non-pet owners, we are not used to pet smells (strange, isn't it, considering my life is a zoo?) Halfway through, the bewildered dog jumped out of the tub, startling Sean who also jumped up. In the cramped quarters, his backside rammed into the toilet tank cover, and the force caused it to flip off and crash to the floor. Who does this happen to? We had to track down a replacement toilet tank cover before my brother and his family returned from their trip and before Sean had to catch his plane. Thankfully, there was a company specializing in discount toilet tank covers not too far away. Who knew that such companies existed? My sanity was restored for $18.00. What a ridiculous experience! Prior to Sean's return to Maryland, we went to the library here to stock up on books and DVDs. I checked out two biographies and a stack of homeschool books; I really enjoy learning about others' experiences, and I need a boost of encouragement in the homeschooling department. Every year after the holidays, things start to d-r-a-g. For the children, I checked out two Charlie Brown DVDs - I have an addiction to the way Barnabas laughs at Charlie Brown programs. It's childhood innocence at its finest. I love watching his face - eyes opened wide and twinkling with amusement, then the peals of laughter exploding in the living room. Long after the children are put to bed, I stay up reading and have finished both biographies. I cannot go to sleep, you see, because my services are needed as soon as the throwing up begins. Mireille has been coughing at night, and it inevitably causes her to throw up. So I have been on duty to ensure that she makes it into the trashcan and not all over her cousin's bed. Three nights of late nights reading with vomit interruptions - another dimension to this zoo dispensation. A good mix of music, from Sandi Patty to the Supertones, underscores this daily drama. Life is good. God is here with us. He is my Safari Guide, Tent, Canteen of refreshing Water, and everpresent Help in the midnight hour.

A House Full of Happy Memories!

My last post was about moving into a tiny space with my family and embracing this new season. This blog is about the three precious years we spent in this cute little Cape Cod style house. I still miss this house, its warmth and charm; though I know I can't go back, the yearning for being there is overwhelming at times.

We bought this fixer-upper the year I struggled with postpartum depression. When we first drove by it, I immediately imagined myself sitting on the back steps. Even though the renters kept the place a mess, I saw beyond it, and the place charmed me. Sean started the initial phase of fixing up the place but soon discovered that it was not his strong point. On the other hand, I discovered an ability and enjoyment in doing things around the house, from painting to landscaping. It took me nine hours to dig out all the large flagstones for the walkway and many more hours to lay them back down over a base of landscape fabric and sand. Eventually, I had the dying tree in front cut down then put flower beds around the perimeter of the house. Inside, I painted the living room sage green and the ugly brick fireplace a creamy white for a cottage chic feel. The dining room had a yellow and blue stained glass chandelier, so I painted the walls a cheerful yellow and hung vintage-looking curtains that were cream with yellow and blue flowers. It was so elegant! The kitchen had a French bistro feel, with chocolate brown walls, a dark green counter top, and curtains and a border to match. It was fabulous!

Fixing up the home and making it ours was therapeutic to me during that difficult time. It promoted my healing to be a big part of creating that loveliness when I felt broken and incapable so much of the time. Though there were painful times, there were so many more joyful moments in that home. My children were so happy! They had friends come over for birthday parties, play dates, and our annual gingerbread decorating party. I hosted tea parties and game nights with friends. We raked leaves in the Fall and jumped in them, and the house seemed made for Christmas decorations. Our neighbors were slowly coming out of their shells, and our house was becoming the gathering place to chat and play. Many of the happiest memories of my life took place at that house, and I will carry them in my heart forever.

I am okay with that season being over and recognize the growth that took place in our lives when we moved away. This journey we are on with God is ever-deepening, and I appreciate the understanding I have gained in the last two and a half years since we moved from there. What made that house special ultimately was more than the outward design of it - it was the presence of God and a happy little family. He's still with us wherever we go, and we're still that happy family!

Hearing God In The Midst Of Chaos

It is Tuesday afternoon, and I'm holding a restless yet tired baby. It's been a week of feverish children, hacking coughs, packing like crazy and the loading and unloading of trucks. In the midst of it, God answered my prayers that everything would fit, we'd be out in time, everyone would stay safe, strength would hold out, and the resettling will go smoothly. God is truly faithful. So here we are in our "new digs." Well, not really. Our place isn't quite ready yet, so we have taken over the master bedroom at our relatives' home. The children have pretty much slept for the last five days, so all they require are comfy beds and lots of tissues. I need my children to be settled, and then an internet connection so I feel connected to the outside world. With that accomplished, I am just waiting for them to totally recover from this virus their bodies have been fighting. At some point today, we will be able to get some laundry done, and I eagerly anticipate wearing clean clothes. Sigh. Our apartment lease ended last November, but we didn't want to move again around the holidays. So we extended our lease to the end of January and started looking at homes to move into. After a year in a small apartment, we were all looking forward to more space. In December our relatives mentioned that they were building a basement apartment in order to bring in some income - I sensed God leading us to consider this and after some discussion, we decided to be their first tenants. It would enable us to save some money to buy a minivan without taking out a loan, give us more time to find the place we wanted to move to, and help out our relatives financially. Plus, I like challenges! The opportunity to downsize and live in closer proximity appealed to me. It could be preparation for the mission field or teaching us how to live with less. Then the "Workforce Reduction" happened, and we were so thankful for God's hand, preventing us from signing a lease on a more expensive place or buying a car. As I wait to move into our cozy new place, some questions linger in my mind. Who decided that everyone had to have their own bedrooms, formal and casual rooms...all this compartmentalized space in a home? We get used to living this way, but what are other options? We rarely take the time to consider this since our lives, what is available and expected in this culture, are pretty much set for us. Is having a home filled with nice stuff required for happiness or even a sense of success and prosperity? Have we failed if we aren't able to check off that list: Own Home - check, Two Cars - check, Formal Dining Room - check, Lots of Toys - check, Latest Gadget - check. I absolutely don't think there is anything wrong with those things. But with my recent experience packing up all of our stuff, I was overwhelmed by the amount of things we had that we couldn't manage. It feels like our things own us, and we don't have a lot! We left behind a dining room table, chaise lounge and sofa when we moved to Baltimore, knowing we were going into an apartment for a year. I also consider my experience as a missionary. I moved to Ethiopia with all my belongings in two suitcases, and then the larger suitcase full of clothing, shoes and toiletries was later stolen. I had a handful of outfits, a camera, some books, some good music, and a few pairs of shoes to my name. Did I miss the stuff that was stolen? Though some of my favorite dresses were in that suitcase, the answer is not really. Life went on. It was easier to manage my things and pack for my return trip to the States with less stuff. I have dubbed this new season in our studio apartment "A Social Experiment" and will blog about different experiences, challenges, etc. as they come up. I have actually been looking forward to this move and for what it will teach us all. I want my children to experience life in a more simple way, learning to get along and consider one another as we share the small space. I want to challenge our cultural expectations head-on and discover what is truly required to live a satisfying life. To me, this is an amazing opportunity, a God thing, as we wait to see where we will be when Sean gets a new job. In the meantime, we have a budget that allows our family to live comfortably while we wait. Sean is getting freelance assignments that continually add to the pot too. To quote a true saying, "We may not know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future." Amen.