mumjones

Breakdowns

We have had the priviledge to experience breakdowns in several countries. Andrew kicks into "get us back on the road mode". I kick into "what can I do with the kids to get them out of the way of Andrew mode". The kids love these times. Bizarre but some of our favourite memories are of breakdowns. The photo of Derek with the kids a few days back was a breakdown outside of Boston. First photo is Hannah taking her first steps on a parking lot island while broken down outside of Philadelphia. Other favourite memories are: Making flower wreaths with Zea in the hedgerow next to the winnebago in the U.S. Northeast somewhere.
Krirstin in Germany where in walking Kristen to the train station Andrew found the perfect little German town and family campground with multiple pools (we actually needed family time after the intensity of Freakstock and God just made it manditory). The massive breakdown with Jessica in our  "Velvet Revolution" motorhome in Italy. Reinhold came to our rescue in his new van and it broke down too. He did say that he was coming down to get us partly because he wanted an adventure. He was the master of organization and calmness and operated seamlessly in at least half a dozen languages. A master at work. Our most recent breakdown, again in Germany, with Shannon in which Samuel found the ultimate toilet, the climax of his round the world quest (glowing blue and a rotating, self-cleaning toilet seat) and had a great time walking into a German village and spending hours in a relaxing playground. More times than not breakdowns are times that God is saying to us stop and take time and we have great times together. This is not necessarily recommending breakdowns but saying there can be good in bad. Funny thing is that the kids shift into "redeeming the breakdown" mode much quicker than me and Andrew.

Even in the Accidents

Abigail has probably needed doctors more than all my other kids put together. Once again, last night we were taking her down to meet the doctor in the doctors office after hours. She burnt her leg with hot tea and now has a huge bandage covering most of her upper left leg. The doctor said it should heal well in about 2 weeks but we will need to come in every few days for dressing changes. Abigail was a trooper. After utilizing my, too frequently used, skills of self-persecution and determining  that shy of denying hot beverage consumption till, say, 18. I couldnt have done anything to prevent this. I was OK too.
Almost 2 years ago she was diagnosed with type I diabetes. Once again, without complaining she learned to care for herself with her new lifelong companion (i.e. daily injections, glucose monitoring and diet). She only cried once, a week after diagnosis, as the reality of this disease sunk in. The strange thing is that her most glaring gifts seem to be joy and compassion. It is like God is aware of this and he is fine-tuning and deepening them by allowing these things that I think if I was good enough I could keep from my child. The guilt I felt when she was diagnosed with diabetes was horrible. I hadn't prayed hard enough. My faith wasn't strong enough. I'm not good enough of a mom. And yet, when I am wise enough or just plain tired enough to stop and look I see God. He wants joy that can tough out the storm. He wants compassion that knows about pain. As much as I may hate it he knows what is best even if it means the very thing I would try to avoid. 

Thank you for giving me a reason for writing this as it has helped me process it and see God where he has seemed absent.

My Brain Refuses

My Brain Refuses to kick in this morning. I am operating on just a few hours sleep as being a parent I still get woken up early - and cook pancakes  - even if I was out late on the town the night before. I can't think about motherhood this morning I am just doing it. What was I doing out late last night you may ask. I thought you would never ask. It was SO GREAT! I was in awe. Just a short walk from my house is the Orkney Folk Festival this weekend. Oh Yeah! Musicians Everywhere. What are they playing? Well, let me tell you, I have been listening to CDs of celtic/folk music for years and I have never seen it performed live. The Stromness Hotel is where the impromptu musicians hang out. The CDs just dont let you see the whole body throwing that bow across the fiddle or the wild leg jerking movements that each musician seems to have his own unique style of. WOW!  I think my favourites were the enthusiastic fiddle players, the bodhran player and of course the man with a grey beard as long as his clarinet. I am so glad that Miriam dragged me out last night with her. Tonight it is Andrews turn to join in as baby-sitting is hard to come by during festivals.

About Beauty

This is a post I have started to do almost every morning. One of the first things my kids taught me and changed the way I see them. A story that repeats itself in different forms whenever I will listen. I just had my first 2 kids at this point. We were living in Pasadena. I had taken Samuel and Elizabeth to the library. Between the library and my bus was a huge courtyard. I was rushing my kids across the courtyard to get the next bus. Why did I have to get the next bus? I don't know, because it was coming, because I am responsible and I should always go for the quickest. Anyway, Elizabeth kept yelling, "look mommy, look." There was nothing to see. Again, "Look mommy, look." Finally, I stopped abruptly and said, in my most frustrated voice, "What?" She pointed to the ground I was walking on. It was the most amazing, intricate, beautiful mosaic I had ever seen. I thought I was walking on cement. We then had a wonderful time looking at the mosaic and the dolphin sculptures Samuel had noticed. Since then my kids have shown me many beautiful things like soft spider webs, funny ants marching, flowers, uniquely beautiful people and the most beautiful of all, the pumpkin smashed into the chain link fence. etc. etc. etc.

Being Myself

I think, in motherhood there is a delicate balance of being myself as a mum and being myself as an individual. We all see people on both extremes. Parents who deny themselves everything to the point of becoming empty vessels that have nothing to give to their family or parents that live out their dreams through their children and then have difficulty when they want to spread their wings. There is the other extreme of parents who seem to resent being parents and refuse to adapt and change at all. Their children spend most of their childhood in daycare centers and schools. What about the happy balance. I think we must all teeter in one of these directions. I tend to teeter in the empty vessel department. Allowing myself to get completely drained of life. One of the most difficult areas of my life I have had to alter is my art. I have always struggled with giving myself permission to be an artist and about the same time I realized the connection with my art and my spirituality (you mean God actually likes artists? You mean he is one?) I was well into motherhood years. This has taken me on a different route than I would have expected. Allowing myself to be an artist has helped me bring this into my motherhood and learning from the children about beauty and art has given me more depth in my approach. But I still need to let the artist part of me grow outside of my motherhood as well. As I don't think our lives are as segregated as we may like to think. I think this is good for my kids and my husband. My kids get to see a mum who expresses herself and gets gitty in creating something beautiful (or more times than not, just creating something bizarre) and my husband seems to enjoy my individuality of expression, independence and creativity. Right now, he is going to pick up an old, unloved, broken, antique chair that he won at auction for me, so I can do something "bizarre" with it.

Ahhh... Friends

Thinking of friends this morning. Ahhh... friends. Picture of Jess with Abigail and Tamara. Ahhh... Jess, we love you. Our friends have had such an amazing role with our kids.  Derek and Amy spending hours praying into our individual children and spending time talking to them about the prophetic, the mystical, the mystery of God. They gave a huge, semitransparent, blue scarf they gave Hannah. They told her it was her place to meet with Jesus. She can just go under the scarf and talk with Jesus (Hannah as been known to dream about Jesus. She says He asks her if He can play barbies with her.) They have given 2 of our kids their Bibles and pray into every gift. Derek has had a huge influence on Samuel teaching him another side of manhood. Shannon has had girl time with my 2 older girls and 2 of their friends. Shannon would pray into "girl time" for weeks beforehand. They go over to her very cool single girls apartment, eat, swim and talk, talk, talk about boys and growing up.  Jess, well she has been family, she lived with us an brought blessings beyond measure. The kids wanted to adopt her so she would always be with us. Even though she is physically absent from us now she is very much in our hearts. I tell you Graham and Fleur Blick did the most amazing job with their three girls, Maggie, Cindy and Jules. Each one of them easy to live with, unique and continually looking for ways to bless. Maggie has spent hours mentoring Elizabeth in writing (Maggie herself being an accomplished writer herself).Cindy is taking Elizabeth away for her turning 12, coming of age adventure this summer. She also spends special times with Abigail encouraging her with doctoring/vet dreams. Jules traveled with us this last summer and added her own positive outlook and flexibility and ornriness (real word?) to the trip. God has brought, and continues to bring the most amazing, affirming, individual friends into our lives and the lives of our children. Friends I would be honoured if our kids would grow up to be more like. Ahhh... friends. So many friends but this blog is already too long. How blessed are we with the friends God has brought into our lives.
P.S. Look mom, I learned how to hypertext today.

Living in Community

Since me and Andrew have first met we have been living in community most of the time. We got to know each other living on a ship with about 130 other people. We have lived together in community as singles, young marrieds and parents, with christians and non-christians, in houses and on the road (i.e. picture, living with Derek in the motorhome, those are andrews legs in the background as he is working on getting the motorhome back on the road). It is not easy but we actually prefer it. The hardest is probably living in community as a family but I think it also has the greatest blessings. Here are some practical thoughts on living in community as a family.

It is important to be honest with them and with yourself about what you want and expect from a community, and what you bring into the group. Example: Me and Andrew love to help those who need help. If someone needs a bed, meal, shower, coat, talk we like to do what we can. I tend towards getting used up by this and am very thankful to Andrew who has helped me put up boundaries so I don't get burnt out and am more available for the long haul. Anyway, helping people seems great doesn't it. Well, it also means invasion of privacy for our housemates. Time to communicate.

Our family is big, not just in numbers but in energy. People kindly say "we fill the space". This can be good and bad, especially when our housemates are introverts. Time to communicate.

Families need to maintain a family identity separate from the community. We don't need to get wierd about this but we communicate with the rest of the community that there will be times to pull away to touch base as family. When living with alot of people it was good to get a weekly family ritual (an evening away, a breakfast in our room).  Families seem to bring a sense of all being a family together into a community. Kids make things real. As you step into living in community with kids you are more exposed than the singles are. This spreads, those without kids will get more real too, it can't be helped it is what kids bring in. Time to communicate.

There are other voices speaking into your kids. I love this. It can also be hard but by far one of the greatest blessings with living in community. We have found that those in our community will be able to identify areas that our kids are gifted in, and will begin to nurture our children in areas that we will tend to overlook. So many examples of this. I am so greatful for the community that we have lived with and visit with that speak into my children. We are all much richer for it but need to be clear on boundaries. Time to communicate.

I feel love for and family with all those we have lived with. I have felt such love, experienced such hurt, had my eyes opened to so much and my family has been transformed by our community-family.

A Normal Family

Went to church yesterday morning. You probably read on Andrew's blog about the potluck. I tell you this one was great. My kids "suffered" through the entrees to get to the much more appealing desert table.

I was made aware of my kids appearance. I forgot to remind my son the night before that his hair was really greasy. I normally need to do the 6 point check with him in the morning (clean face, teeth, hair, armpits, socks and unders). Samuel seems to feel a sense of victory when he can get one of these by me.

As I was quickly throwing something on myself Abigail was telling me how she got herself and Tamara ready. She has always been a especially creative and individual dresser, which can be wonderful and/or scary. Abigail was especially excited about the perfume and the sparkles part. Well, they were definately smelling like girls and their hair was greased down with body glitter. I really have two choices at this point. I can scream, try to resurrect some resemblance of a normal family and risk crushing a spirit. OR I can focus on the smiles of shear joy of expression and individuality on their faces and remember the choice that I make over and over and over again to let their spirits soar and realize that children keep us humble and transparent by showing what we might prefer to hide, and that is a real good thing, it is great thing. If I fight it I just get frustrated.

We have a song that we love in this family. It is a Creed song and part of it says, "Children, don't stop dancing. Believe you can fly." We sing it at maximum volume and spread our arms as wings and dance around the room (well, most of the dancing is done by the female part of the family). I pray this for my children almost daily. I pray that a part of them will remain as children,they will never forget that they can dance with joy no matter how hard life may get and that their spirits will soar with hope. Sometimes I think I am a bit of a doomsday person and want my kids to be prepared to thrive in all circumstances. Thriving that is independant of money and comfort. I think I am rambling this morning. The area of individuality is quite intertwined with alot of other areas in my life. Just to make sure things sunk in. Hannah decided to go to school as a superhero this morning, complete with mask and towel cape.

P.S. Second photo is from the Jones archives and a similar experience, not from yesterday morning.

Jealousy

Had an interesting conversation with my two oldest girls (Elizabeth and Abigail) the other night, before bed. Elizabeth was saying, "I don't want Abigail to play with Emma (her best friend)." Everybody wants to play with Abigail. It is easy for her because she is always so much fun and I am so quiet." "Elizabeth, I think you are jealous." "No I am not." "Do you know what Jealousy is?" "No." "It is th ugly side of love." " You love someone so much you don't want to share them because you are afraid you will lose them. The truth is that by being so afraid of losing someone you love you can actually scare them away." It is such a good exercise for me to need to figure out real definitions of familiar words to communicate them properly. I learn so much in the process.

By Request

Heather asked for a picture of my dreds. I thought with the picture I will tell you the story. I have loved dreads for 10+ years. I think one of my favourite things was the community aspect of them, your friends work on your dreads. I was always too scared to actually get them. Erika had a dream of me as an 80 year old woman with dreads. I thought, "I'm not too old for dreads but I am old enough to know what I want and I want dreads." This was during a very stressfull time when I was paying no attention to myself. Abigail had just been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes (another long story). Erika invited other friends over with me and they pampered me for the afternoon (music, candles, wine, affirmation) and she started my dreads. In the months to come Eric (an old friend from S.F. who spends his life bringing Jesus to Rainbow gatherings) worked on them several more hours and finished by putting a silver bead he brought from Jerusalem into my hair. Pink Paul (quiet John the Baptist, wandering in the wilderness, heaven is my home) worked on my dreads and rubbed lavender oil into them while telling me about his love for and life with Jesus. Juliet brought in the colour (as she does in general just by being herself). We are the same age. As she spent hours on my hair she prayed for me, spoke prophetic images of being God's warrior into me and said she felt more accepted by God by me allowing her to put her personality into my hair. I now put indifferent colours of wool that I have spun and died myself depending on the season I am in. I even know the sheep my wool comes from.  I also have some grey wool that matches my own grey that is from a local ancient breed of seaweed eating sheep. It may sound kinda wierd but it feels more like my hair than any other way I have had it. People say it suits me. The funny thing is that little old ladies seem to like it. The wool actually started out as hair extensions too because the dreads had shortened my hair so much. My own personal rebellion against human hair extensions but so much more than that, my friends, my Jesus and how he created me as an individual on the inside as well as the outside. I think He's smiling.