Tasting the Bitter Herbs

She stands tall lifting her red plastic cup high overhead. Little eyes sparkle and she tries to follow the words,

Blessed are you, O Lord our God, King of the universe…

She sips the juice and plops down on her pillow. Table spread before her. Children all around gathered for a normal Wednesday evening church service. Instead led to tables unfolded, flat on the floor. Candles glimmer and children squirm, chatter, and wonder.

Bites of parsley remind. The next bite is maror, the bitter herbs. I warn her it is hot. It is the tiniest amount, but she sobs and spits it out. The taste of slavery. The taste of sin. Unpalatable. Full of misery.

This Passover feast was God’s idea. Families recline at table nourishing souls with food. So wise and yet the symbols blur, overshadowed by one taste burned upon our tongues. The juice washes it away. Sweet purple drops of sap squeezed into a challis and poured.

We all want to drink from that cup, the special cup set aside for Elijah. We do, because one greater than Elijah is here. The communion cup poured out and filled again. Hands of all sizes hold their cups close the the mouth of the clay. The leader gives to all who ask. The words etched by an artisan years ago now wet with drops spilling over the side.

This is my blood shed for you.

Words I don’t understand. Words with promise. Words that take me back to the cross I so easily abandon.

It hurts. Surrounded by hatred and violence.

It’s messy. Smeared with flesh and blood.

I cringe remembering. The god-man groaning in agony as his most precious love turned away.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mathew 27: 46)

Alone for the first time in eternity yet surrounded by the human race. Flesh ripped apart. Soul crushed. The consequences of rebellion, my rebellion. I don’t see my sin the same way. I don’t understand how far removed from creation I am.

The one who was there at the beginning knows. He tasted the sponge sopped with vinegar when he longed for the refreshing dew of the garden. He asked us to remember. He promised not to forget. And while he waits for us to love like he did, he prepares another feast. One without any tears.

Tags: Good Friday, Passover

Noteworthy Links: New Song Edition

While dusting, scrubbing, polishing, I listen, ponder, pray. The vacuum hums and my voice rises. I cannot hear myself yell as the same song blares over and over.

This could be all about just letting go
This could be all about just holding on

I can’t get my feet off of the ground
I wanna run but I don’t know how
Can you reach me here and pull me out

Two-hundred-year-old wood gleams under the mop, and my heart gets a swipe or two by my first love. He reminds me of the words heard in my sleep last night.

The Lord your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)

I leave the pristine doll house to return to my own home. I step upon the dirty porch and enter a room full of commotion. Children run to greet me. As their arms reach around my neck, I remember there is a song in Heaven for them too. I cannot sing it to them, but I can help them learn to hear it.

To do so, we need both wonder and order in our days.

Wonder

Like Mother, Like Daughter: Order and Wonder, or the most frequently asked question! -Leila answers, “What curriculum do you use?” Her conclusion inspires.

Diary of 1: The Masters and the Classics -Jennifer starts the day with music and art. She shares her idea and resources.

Holy Experience: {How to Make an Easter Tree} A Pilgrimage to the Cross -Ann Voskamp hangs art upon a tree. The passion captured with beauty.

Order

Color Me Orange: This is the best system EVER! -Jess organizes her school day with a box and envelopes. Tasks completed with joy (usually).

Squidoo Lens: Mini Offices -Jimmie opens up the idea that expands upon lapbooking. She includes everything needed to create a portable reference for your children.

Knowledge Quest: Homeschooling with Toddlers -Terri Johnson shares her strategies and ideas for teaching with little ones. Protect your house from markers and sister’s hair from scissors…

More links can be found at my Noteworthy page.

I hope melodies of joy chime in your heart today.

Noteworthy Links: Lent Reflections Edition

Focused reflections began this week. Simple acts are bringing meaning to conversations. A few questions reveal my youngest doesn’t understand Easter. She knows of Jesus’ birth, but gathering colorful eggs overshadows the resurrection.

I wonder what clouds life for me? Scraps of paper begging for check marks? Vain imaginations wrangling thoughts? Letter keys clanking in the silence? My eyes are dimmed by the temporal, the only foundation I can taste and touch, see and smell.

Day by day, I attempt to explain the eternal. To live for the eternal.

My children squint with me as we look towards the light. Candles illumine our faces as we read Desiring God Christian Resource Library: Lenten Lights.

I need this light. I need the light of truth to fill me with grace and wisdom. I’ll start by continuously remembering the life of another, the One who came from eternity.

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who…humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:6-8)

Tags: Lent

I Choose to Live

The duties of motherhood overuse the multitasking part of my brain. Thinking cells grow numb by constant decisions. Once in awhile, they need to awake. My husband happily sends me to education conferences to recharge and add to my notebook collection.

For years, I rattled nonstop to Julie upon my return. This year, the teachings happened the same time as Julie’s visit.

I cannot recall all the challenging ideas in one post, but one question echoes in my conscious.

Does this bring life?

The question does not appear anywhere in my notes, but it was asked while Miss Katherine Dang discussed The Will of God Concerning Men. She simply reasoned through Scripture. The theme of life resounds from the creation of man:

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul. (Genesis 2:7)

To the words of Jesus:

I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. (John 10:10)

Miss Dang frequently prints verses on one side of the paper with empty lines on the other. The empty spaces on those particular pages remain mostly empty. My brain reached for the practical applications.

It’s something I have pondered. I want our lessons to be full of life, nurturing and purposeful. It took me six months to come up with my blog title, but it is taking years to fully understand the meaning. Education is about all of life; nothing is excluded.

I still tend to think of school as only academics. But life is so much more: thoughts, actions, relationships. Am I giving life or breeding death?

• Does the food I eat bring life to my body?
• Do I feed my soul the nourishing bread of the Word?
• Do my words give strength to the hearer?

Dusty clay was brought to life with a puff of love. The breath of God created with a purpose, to give a gift. A gift,

Abundant -plentiful; in great quantity; fully sufficient; as an abundant supply. In scripture, abounding; having in great quantity; overflowing with. (Webster’s 1828 Dictionary)

Life abundant, overflowing, in great supply. The choice is up to me.

The breath of Heaven still blows on dusty hearts.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

A mother knows better than to leave sharp objects in reach of little hands, but diligence diminishes as children grow. My children no longer pull every book off the shelf to find a favorite. Bibs, diapers, and spill-proof cups are gone. Games, puzzles, and art supplies are here to stay.

Scissors are typically stashed after paper is hacked into a thousand slivers. When the double-edged blades glimmer on a table, little girls are tempted. The plant misses a few leaves. A shirt has random holes. Somehow hair escaped nipping. Until now.

Sunshine watches everything I do. She wants to be a mommy when she grows up; Mommy cuts hair. Practicing her skills on compliant little sister didn’t have the desired effect.

It’s not bad considering Sunshine is five. And scissors are sharp. And Sweet Pea has elvish ears.

Yes, I cut hair, but I wasn’t confident to work on this style.

After a few tears and finally laughter, Sweet Pea bounced from the beautician’s chair and fluttered around, light and free. Her pixie cut matches her personality.

Her sister promises not to cut hair until she’s a Mommy. She doesn’t have to wait that long, but please don’t say anything. I haven’t quite accepted this rite of passage.

My babies slip away day by day. That is by design, but it challenges this mother’s heart to expand beyond the hectic days and gather the moments scattered on the floor. The pieces of today will be treasures tomorrow. I need to remember that when I’m tempted to scream.

Tags: 1st haircut