The journals of Lois Lyda. Finding beauty in the imperfections of motherhood, life, faith.







Thursday, January 27, 2011

Last Breath

Tonight, a long time friend of 17 years died. She was only 30, my exact age. She died of the same rare and agressive cancer that killed my father. The notification went out via Facebook, so details are slim. I wonder how her last few days, hours, breaths on earth were. I wonder what her parting words were, or if she was able to speak at all.

I have an all too real remembrance of what dying and death look like. Amidst the great final struggle for breath, the last gesture my father pursued was to raise up a hand-carved wooden cross toward heaven. The last thing my dad said to me, the very last time he spoke, he said "You are so beautiful." I cherish those words like precious myrrh soothing the sorrow of my soul.

It pains me to think that, 90 days later, while I was watching PBS movie theatre classic, while my biggest concern was making the perfect batch of stove-top popcorn, while prayer was far from my lips, Shohrae was dying. It is jarring to be so absorbed in the shallowness of one's own surreal existence, and then be flung back into the one all defining reality; that ready or not, death comes to us all. I know this truth, I know it well, and yet how quickly I forget. It is no discriminator of persons. It does not come at a convenient time. Young, old, all die.

What will i be caught doing or saying when that great and sacred hour visits me?

There is a prayer that I pray almost every day. Today, it couldn't be prayed with more fervor:

. . .O God, my God, I plead with You for many and great things; do not disregard me. Do not cast me away from Your presence because of my presumption and boldness, but by the power of Your love lead me in the path of Your will. Grant me to love You as You have commanded, with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength; with my whole being. For You alone are the holy protection and all powerful defender of my life, and to You I ascribe glory and offer this prayer. Grant me to know Your truth before I depart this life. Maintain my life in this world until I may offer You true repentance. Do not take me away in the midst of my days, but when You are pleased to bring my life to an end, forewarn me of my death so that I may prepare my soul to come before You. Be with me then, O Lord, on my great and sacred day, and grant me the joy of Your salvation. Cleanse me from manifest and secret sins, from all iniquity hidden in me, and give me a right answer before Your judgement seat. Amen.
-- Prayer at Daybreak of Elder Sophrony

books for boys



I have two recommendations I must share. The first is a collection of "world folktales for strong boys." It is an essential collection for every son, father, teacher, and lover of stories. We just can't get enough of
"Mightier than the Sword" told by Jane Yolen.
The second is for the parents of such strong boys, called "The Purpose of Boys" by Michael Gurian. This book is a fabulous read for anyone struggling to raise boys in this generation.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

finances for a five year old

If only we taught our children finances so suscinctly. Even Dave Ramsey can't top this type of teaching. At Emmanuel's prompting, I'll be starting my potato garden soon!

Excerpt from Farmer Boy , third book of the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder:

"Father," Almanzo said, "would you - would you give me - a nickel?"
"What for?"
Almanzo looked down at his moccasins and muttered:
"Frank had a nickel. He bought pink lemonade."
. . .
Father looked at him a long time. Then he took out his wallet and opened it, and slowly he took out a round, big silver half-dollar. He asked:
"Almanzo, do you know what this is?"
"Half a dollar," Almanzo answered
"Yes. But do you know what half a dollar is?"
Almanzo didn't know it was anything but half a dollar.
"It's work, son," Father said. "That's what money is; it's hard work."
Mr. Paddock chuckled. "The boy's too young, Wilder," he said, "you can't make a youngster understand that."
"Almanzo's smarter than you think," said Father.
. . .
"You know how to raise potatoes, Almanzo?"
"Yes." Almanzo said
"Say you have a seed potato in the spring, what do you do with it?"
"You cut it up," Almanzo said.
"Go on, son."
"Then you harrow - first you manure the field, and plow it. Then you harrow, and mark the ground. And plant the potatoes, and plow them, and hoe them. You plow and hoe them twice . . .Then you dig them and put them down cellar."
"Yes. Then you pick them over all winter; you throw out all the little ones and the rotten ones. Come spring, you load them up and haul them here to Malone, and you sell them. And if you get a good price son, how much do you get to show for all that work? How much do you get for half a bushel of potatoes?"
"Half a dollar," Almanzo said.
"Yes," said Father. "That's what's in the half-dollar, Almanzo. The work that raised half a bushel of potatoes is in it."
Almanzo looked at the round piece of money that Father held up. It looked small, compared with all that work.
"You can have it, Almanzo," Father said. Almanzo could hardly believe his ears. Father gave him the heavy half-dollar.
"I'ts yours," said Father. "You could buy a sucking pig with it, if you want to. You could raise it, and it would raise a litter of pigs, worth four or five dollars a piece. Or you can trade that half-dollar for lemonade, and drink it up. You do as you want. It's your money."
Almanzo forgot to say thank you. He held the half-dollar a minute, then he put his hand in his pocket and went back to the boys by the lemonade stand.
. . .
The boys wouldn't believe it till he showed them. Then they crowded around, waiting for him to spend it. He showed it to them all, and put it back in his pocket.
"I'm going to look around," he said, "and buy me a good little sucking pig."

I finish reading this chapter aloud to the family on the couch tonight. Ben turns to me and says, "Lois, I think we are buying too much pink lemonade. We need more sucking pigs."
Delayed gratification.
It's a good lesson for all of us, not just the young'ns.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

funny things are everywhere



I entered the kitchen last night to find Emmanuel's toothbrush curiously suctioned to the microwave. What could they be plotting? I love my freespirited, whimsicle children!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

river of life

Last Thursday(Jan. 6)I took the children to the Great Blessing of the Waters, and afterwards bottled some holy water for home use. When I feel weak, or sick, or in need of strength, I will sip some, and remember...

Theophany is better known as Epiphany in the West. The Orthodox feast is called Theophany because at the baptism of Christ the Holy Trinity appeared clearly to mankind for the first time -- the Father's voice is heard from Heaven, the Son of God is incarnate and standing physically in the Jordan, and the Holy Spirit descends on Him in the form of a dove.

This feast was particularly significant to me this year. I have been rather silent on this space about the most significant loss in my life thus far - the falling asleep of my father. It is hard to package a whole life influence into one or two blog entries. I haven't known what to say or even what to feel. Public life has seemingly gone on as normal. But secretly, I have read the prayers for the dead for him. I have commemorated him at church. And I have visited dad's graveside every month since he was promoted to glory.

There is still no permanent marker there. The mulch and tossed earth hem in the place we lowered the coffin into the earth; his grave is humbly crowned by a patchwork of grassy squares. It is a strange thought to think part of him's just right there under the surface, not far below my feet, and yet his soul is worlds away, high above me.

My dad once wrote a choral piece called "River of Life," which has often been requested to be sung at funerals, though we did not sing it at his. The words to the chorus are the ones my mother wants etched in his gravestone.

There is a river of life
Flowing from God's own throne
Crystal and clear and pure
From God and God alone


I thought of this, as I stood witness to the blessing of these sacred waters, mystically feeling a sense of communion with my father, as he also partakes of the living waters, and I hear this passage read aloud:

Isaiah 35

The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the lily. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon; they shall see the glory of the LORD, and the excellency of our God. Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees. Say to them that are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, fear not. Behold, your God will come with vengeance, even God with a recompense; He will come and save you." Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing; for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water; in the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall be grass with reeds and rushes. And a highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called the Way of Holiness. The unclean shall not pass over it, but it shall be for those; the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon; it shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

The last few days of my dad's life, I remember reading aloud this very passage. How he groaned in longing. During this time, I had a burning desire to ask if he wished to be baptised (as Salvationists do not practice this sacriment). It was an intense time, and so I never had the opportunity. Occasionally I think back with regret and wish I had just asked. But then I remember all the tears shed, poured out in prayer over his bedside.
And I realize. We did baptise him.

Monday, January 10, 2011

home-centered education

I'm still tottering on the fence of this great divide between institution- and family-centered education. Truthfully, I have more accurately fallen over the family- side of the fence, and am clawing at the wood to see if there is a safe and reasonable way back over to the other side. Surprisingly enough, after a year of standing on the fence convincing my husband how much greener the grass is, we're now both over here, and have discovered that, though lush, it's also very muddy, and the upkeep is much more frequent. I'm not naturally good at tending things. I mean, I don't have plants or pets for a reason. But for whatever reason, it seems God has given me and hubby these ideas with roots that just keep growing.

I think the difference between me and the ideal home-schooling mother is that I don't feel naturally gifted in the home, nor do I feel well-suited to this life. I do, however, have a compelling desire to do the right thing by my children. I wont do it begrudgingly, but it might not be pretty and it wont be perfect. I'm okay with this . . .most days.

Today, was a good day in the mothering realm. It wasn't spectacular, but it gave me hope enough to grace my fall into the garden of home-education.

I awoke to my son gently kissing my cheek, saying "mommy, wake up, I have some holy water for you and our baby." My grown-up five year old had gotten a plastic cup, tiptoed to our prayer corner, and poured me (and in-utero Lyda) some blessed Theophany water we took home from church the other day. By lunchtime we'd said our morning family prayers; made our beds (something the kids are totally showing me up at doing!); I read aloud exerpts from Beowulf, Odysseus, and King Arthur; Eden vaccuumed the kitchen and hallway with her new vaccuum; Emmanuel made PBJ sandwiches for us; we ate together. After lunch, they had quiet time while Evangeline napped, and I read a few pages of "Way of a Pilgrim" in the quietness of my cozy bed. Meanwhile, E-man played with his marble ball track, and Edie put her dollies to bed. Next, they created snakes with playdough, and then we painted attentively in the kitchen together. Afterward, they cleaned the kitchen floor (with vinegar and baking soda)by "skiing" on sponges - they are very thorough, and love this job! After a bath, we then sat down together to watch a library movie Crocodile Hunter, while I preped for dinner, and tended to EvaRuth. When Ben came home, he lit a fire, and we had a picnic dinner in the livingroom, enjoying the warmth of the house.

The day was significant to me because, being productivity-driven, I can sometimes get overwhelmed with what's not done, instead of being present in the reality I have been given. Today, I was able to finish some necessary tasks while also teaching my children how to do it, or rather utilizing their proficient assistance. I was also able to slow down and enjoy them, taking the day as it came, without too much of a list getting in the way. Anyway, it was a good day at home.

It is strangely wonderful when my eyes let me see the most ordinary things as extraordinary. And even better when I begin to feel at home in the ordinary practice of being a mother. Maybe I'm not a natural, but I know I was born for this.

resolved

It has taken me a while to think, really consider, what I might resolve to pursue this year. Today, I stumbled upon Fr. Thomas Hopko's 55 Maxims for Christian Living, which I have come across on many an occassion, but today I thought, "aha! this is it!" While it is a bit loftier than I'd otherwise have come up with on my own for a New Year's Resolution (I was originally thinking one or two resolutions for a year to be perfectly sufficient), it is exactly what I should be pursuing.
And I can already predict, the most difficult one, come December 2011: #44!
But come January 1st, 2012, I'll be piously practicing the 54th Maxim!!

55 Maxims for Christian Living
by Fr. Thomas Hopko

1. Be always with Christ.
2. Pray as you can, not as you want.
3. Have a keepable rule of prayer that you do by discipline.
4. Say the Lord’s Prayer several times a day.
5. Have a short prayer that you constantly repeat when your mind is not occupied with other things.
6. Make some prostrations when you pray.
7. Eat good foods in moderation.
8. Keep the Church’s fasting rules.
9. Spend some time in silence every day.
10. Do acts of mercy in secret.
11. Go to liturgical services regularly
12. Go to confession and communion regularly.
13. Do not engage intrusive thoughts and feelings. Cut them off at the start.
14. Reveal all your thoughts and feelings regularly to a trusted person.
15. Read the scriptures regularly.
16. Read good books a little at a time.
17. Cultivate communion with the saints.
18. Be an ordinary person.
19. Be polite with everyone.
20. Maintain cleanliness and order in your home.
21. Have a healthy, wholesome hobby.
22. Exercise regularly.
23. Live a day, and a part of a day, at a time.
24. Be totally honest, first of all, with yourself.
25. Be faithful in little things.
26. Do your work, and then forget it.
27. Do the most difficult and painful things first.
28. Face reality.
29. Be grateful in all things.
30. Be cheerful.
31. Be simple, hidden, quiet and small.
32. Never bring attention to yourself.
33. Listen when people talk to you.
34. Be awake and be attentive.
35. Think and talk about things no more than necessary.
36. When we speak, speak simply, clearly, firmly and directly.
37. Flee imagination, analysis, figuring things out.
38. Flee carnal, sexual things at their first appearance.
39. Don’t complain, mumble, murmur or whine.
40. Don’t compare yourself with anyone.
41. Don’t seek or expect praise or pity from anyone.
42. We don’t judge anyone for anything.
43. Don’t try to convince anyone of anything.
44. Don’t defend or justify yourself.
45. Be defined and bound by God alone.
46. Accept criticism gratefully but test it critically.
47. Give advice to others only when asked or obligated to do so.
48. Do nothing for anyone that they can and should do for themselves.
49. Have a daily schedule of activities, avoiding whim and caprice.
50. Be merciful with yourself and with others.
51. Have no expectations except to be fiercely tempted to your last breath.
52. Focus exclusively on God and light, not on sin and darkness.
53. Endure the trial of yourself and your own faults and sins peacefully, serenely, because you know that God’s mercy is greater than your wretchedness.
54. When we fall, get up immediately and start over.
55. Get help when you need it, without fear and without shame.

Friday, January 7, 2011

the gift of gifts


I've been noticing that it seems to be a "must" in the blogging/facebook communities to post pictures of "the goods" one gets on Christmas, with a closeup of gleeful grins and the gift that brought all those teeth to the surface.
.
I didn't even think to take pictures of the four presents we opened on Christmas morning (all of which were joint/shared gifts). I was too busy wondering if we should be giving gifts at all on Christmas. You see, I had just finished reading a Christmas book to my children called "Santa's favorite story", where Santa has to explain that Christmas isn't about him. Of course, at the end of the story, he goes ahead and gives out presents to all the animals in the forest anyway . . . can we say mixed message?!

Back on December 5, I was preparing for St. Nicolas Day. (For more information on this wonderful saint, go here www.stnicholascenter.com) For the second year in a row, our kids have delighted in placing their shoes ourside their door, stuffed with carrots for St. Nicholas' white horse. Then hubby and I exchange the carrots for little chocolate coins (also a legend of St. Nicolas) and other small treats. The kids wake up in the morning super excited about a handful of armymen strategically guarding their doorway, and the sweets. They didn't need an atare (or wait, is it gamebox, xbox 360, wii . . .i can't keep up!) They were happy with this modest surprise. And, of course, so were we! We began the day at church. The rest of the day we read stories about the real St. Nicholas and colored pictures of him, while enjoying our chocoate.

Next year, I plan to add the element of baking cookies together for our neighbors enclosing a special message about the real St. Nicholas, and writing a list together with the children of kind things we can do for others (ie: not things we want to get from santa, but things we want to give in honor of St. Nicholas). We will then work on this list leading up to Christmas. I deeply hope the addition of these two elements will guide us deeper into the Nativity season with more awareness of "the reason for the season." Who knows, we may end up changing our official Christmas gift-giving to this day altogether.

You see, St. Nicholas is really from whom the gift-giving was inspired. Over time, and in Puritanical America where saints lost their status, the traditions of St. Nicolas Day were merged into those of Christmas. Alas the wonderfully generous, God-fearing Bishop Nicholas became the jolly secular marketing genius Santa.

Anyway, back to my original post . . . Even though I am not a big fan of the materialized version of Christmas, I don't want to come across as a "Scrooge". I do afterall like to receive gifts as much as the next blogger. So, I thought I'd post a short list in honor of the most thoughtful gifts we received during this season.

1. hand made dolls. Ben's sister Bethany laboured to make these beautiful hand-crafted dolls for my girls. She put so much love and personality into them; may she know they have received just as much love and personality in return.
2. paint. It's been over 6 years, and our bedroom hasn't seen a lick of paint to grace those horribly dingy walls. Thanks to my husband's thoughtfulness, and my brother's skill, we now have delicious buttercream bedroom walls.
3. geo cashing. We love "doing" gifts the whole family can enjoy. Not only did we have to use our GPS to hunt down our gift hidden in the woods, we also got to redeem tickets to the Dallas World Aquarium. This was a special treat and a great learning adventure for all of us. Thanks Tim and Karina!

So, I had no intention of posting pictures of gleeful getters on my blog, but it seems I've been won over by the masses, and just had to take a photo today of my favorite gift Eden received (from grandma); a real vaccuum! I imagine I don't need to explain why I am so excited about it!