There are some moments when the daily aggravation of motherhood fades to a glow and I get to smile over my darling cherubs. Usually those moments end up in bickering, but I like to remember the moments at their peak while I can. Tonight is one such moment and it’s lasted for over half an hour.

LightBoy is scheduled to play goalie tomorrow morning in his hockey game. This is a rotating duty on his team and so he brought home the special equipment this afternoon. This evening his sister who has been taking lessons and played in goal on several occasions, gave him some lessons and spent time prepping him on paper as we watch the latest Stanley Cup playoff game (Go Habs).  She did this without any special prompting from us, her parents.

I took this photo from about 10 feet away with my MacBook PhotoBooth … so it’s really bad, but I didn’t want them to know what I was doing.  It was very sweet.  LightGirl was drawing plays and quizzing LightBoy about how to respond.  He knew.  The proof will be in the pudding tomorrow.  But for tonight I am basking in the glory of my children getting along and learning from each other.

On this Easter morning I thought I’d do a visual of joy …

Giggling for no apparent reason …

Lovin’ every minute of it!

Bein’ silly … cause she can.

Scored the first goal! YAY!!!!!

I win!! We win!! YAY!!!!!!!!

Dying eggs …

Happy Easter Morning … go forth and enjoy the risen Son.

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter’s hockey team played a double header on a Saturday afternoon. We had just enough time between games to take the team out to lunch at a local grill. We played a fairly local team from just south of here which we are well matched against. Everyone anticipated some good hockey, hard play and tough skating. There were all of those, and then there were hard knocks, rough language and downright bullying on the ice from the other team. We weren’t anticipating the latter. It spun our girls off balance for a good portion of the first game. Tempers flared, emotions spun and flew and a stick even waved once or twice.

The other team was significantly larger in stature than our team. This is not usually a problem. But it soon became clear that they had a significantly different standard of play than we do. Something was not adding up. Girls who usually skate well and keep their feet were on the ice often. Our team captain took a particularly hard check and was told to, “Stay down, b*tch!” as she lay prone on the ice.

We lost that first game, 2-1. We took the break, had lunch and refocused the girls on their task … play excellent hockey. CoachWonderWoman gave them excellent advice, “Pretend that the other team is speaking a foreign language and you can’t understand what they’re saying. The power of an insult is carried in it’s result … if you don’t respond, there is no power in the insult.” The team pulled it together after that in an amazing way. The insults had no power over them. The hard knocks continued, but tempers stayed in check. They maintained and they won the second game by one point.

It was a hard, hard day. It was difficult to watch as a parent. There were some brutal hits taken and our goalie was out for the following week with deep muscle bruising from the slashing she took. Hockey can be a rough game and I knew that when LightGirl signed up for it. But it can also be played with finesse, skill and especially good sportsmanship. Good sportsmanship was not in particular evidence that Saturday afternoon.

The girls have moved on since then, the parents have been processing. There has been discussion about whether or not to file an official protest concerning some aspects of the games. I’ve been doing some of that writing. Concensus has gathered around the idea that much of the responsibility for the atmosphere at both games lies with the officiating and with the coaching for the other team. We’ve been considering whether or not to officially complain about the lack of proper officiating at the games and in particular the first game. If proper sanctions been levied against the other team for some of their behavior, some of the injuries to our team might not have happened. Certainly, the excellence of play would have been more evident.

As I’ve been writing and preparing the formal complaint, I’ve also been reading the official rules of hockey. This has been a new education for me, which has been interesting in and of itself. But I was very interested to read the preamble to the rules:

The goal of USA Hockey is to promote a safe and positive playing environment for all participants while continuing to focus on skill development and enjoyment of the sport. All officials, coaches, players, parents, spectators and volunteers are encouraged to observe these “Points of Emphasis” when participating in the sport of ice hockey.

Fair Play and Respect
Fair play and respect are the backbone of any successful amateur sports program. In order for a positive environment to be created, it is imperative that all participants and spectators have respect for all players, coaches, officials administrators, spectators and the sport of hockey. Hockey is a game demanding high levels of concentration and skill.
Intimidation or “bullying” has no place in ice hockey. Any act that includes taunting or teasing of players, coaches, officials, or spectators by means of verbal ridicule, obscene gesture, threat of physical violence, or physical violence itself will not be tolerated at USA Hockey events.
Players are encouraged to develop a deep sense of respect for all (opponents and officials) while endeavoring to enjoy the sport and improve their playing ability. Each player is encouraged to use proper skill and technique when engaging in any type of body contact.
Coaches are responsible for instructing their players to play the sport in a safe and sportsmanlike manner. To that end, coaches are directed to teach only those skills necessary to allow for proper and legal body contact.
Officials should be diligent and confident when officiating the sport. Each official should enforce the playing rules fairly and respectfully.
Spectators are encouraged to support their teams while showing respect for all players, coaches, officials and other spectators.

The whole point of officials and coaches is to make the game safe, enjoyable and a learning experience for everyone. This ain’t pond hockey. It’s about winning, but more than that, it really is about how you play the game. The officials and coaches are there to ensure that a healthy, safe and positive environment is maintained for all players … not just the winning players.

I’ve been thinking about that lately for many reasons. But it came up especially yesterday as I stumbled into a brand new world. I was looking for a word that I couldn’t locate in my organic random access memory, so I Googled around to find it anyway. I found the word, and along the way I found this article – Grief Without God, by Carol A. Fiore. Ms. Fiore is a widow and an atheist. Her husband was a test pilot who died in a flight accident eight years ago. The article recounts the 36 days he spent in the hospital before he died and her experiences with people of faith during that time. To be blunt, they were not positive:

Before I arrived at the hospital just hours after the accident, Eric had been given the last rites by a Catholic priest. On whose authority? During the entire time I lived at the hospital I heard the following comments over and over: “God has a plan”, “God never gives us more than we can handle”, “Put your faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.” One respiratory therapist even told me that unless I prayed for Eric, he would die. She’d seen it happen before, she repeated. When the family doesn’t pray, the patient dies. Almost without exception, every single person who visited, called, or sent cards said the same thing “I’m praying for your husband.”

After Eric died I heard the same statements but with a new even more infuriating one thrown in: “He’s in a better place.” What place? He was dead! I can assure everyone that Eric loved life, his family, his job. There was no better place for him than right here. And what of God’s plan? Did these people really believe that their God was watching Eric, out of all the beings in the universe? If so, why didn’t he answer the prayers of more than half the city of Wichita? If there is a God and he has a plan, maybe this is what he was thinking:
Gee, I think I’ll cause a really great guy to crash on takeoff. He’s a test pilot who tries to make the skies safe for everyone, but just for fun I’ll cause the jet to stall, plow into the runway, and catch fire. Then, just to torture the wife, I’ll make her watch the test pilot suffer horrible injuries and burns for 36 days. Then as the final blow, I’ll make sure the small children are present at the moment of death so their lives will be screwed up forever. I will ignore their pleas not to let their Daddy die because hey, I’m God and I can do whatever I want.

I’d really encourage you to read her entire article. It is quite moving and her tribute to her husband is loving and beautiful. More than that, Ms. Fiore raises important questions about the nature of God and the nature of evil in the world which are not easily dismissed with platitudes and euphemisms.

As well, the way she was treated and the easy manner in which people of faith slipped God into a conversation with someone so obviously and decidedly uncomfortable with faith at a time when she was fragile and vulnerable teeters on the thin edge of being abusive. One can certainly look at this behavior and see spiritual manipulation afoot.

So, I’ve been thinking about the parallels between the physical bullying I saw on the ice that Saturday afternoon and the spiritual bullying we often participate in during life events. We think we’re justified because “souls are at risk.” But are they? What is our justification? Is this a game that we should win at all costs? What if our spiritual bullying ends up causing some to choose death? Have we won? Or lost? Who won in this case and who lost … really. Think about that for a minute. We are so caught up in our zero-sum games in our culture that we cannot conceive of a different outcome or a different kind of game.

As is the case with my daughter’s hockey team, it is the responsibility of the leaders and officials to guide and direct us into “fair play” and sportsmanlike behavior. We all need that in order level the playing field and create a positive environment for everyone. You are likely thinking to yourself that that sounds a little hokey right now. But consider this, the second commandment is to what? The second commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself. We cannot continue playing zero-sum games and love others as we love ourselves, the two things are mutually exclusive. So we need leaders and officials who will teach us a new way to love others. Who will help us to define it. Then help us to carry it out.

It will not include platitudes, false hope, dishonesty or manipulation.

I know I’ve been away for a couple of days. It may go on for a few more.

All I can say is that I am feeling a certain empathy with the Alm-Grandfather in Heidi. I understand why he retreated to live alone on the mountain, only to visit the village when he needed groceries once a year. People can be very dangerous.

I’ll be back soon. I have a couple of posts percolating. I think they’ll break through the edges shortly.

I haven’t posted in a while. I think it might be the longest while ever. This is not a good record to break. But I suspect that all will live and probably thrive. I finally gave up and just marked “all as read,” in my Googlereader. Some of you will go unread into the dustbin of history. I feel really badly about that … I really do. But I was overwhelmed. Completely. Still … all will live and probably thrive. Such is the stuff of life.

Some really good things have happened lately. My blog, that would be this very blog that you have cast your eyes up now, was accepted into The Daily Scribe. It happened several weeks ago and you may have noticed the shiny new logo in my sidebar. I try to keep it gleaming and crisp because I’ve still got a shine on too about the whole thing. Wander on over to the village square and check them out … what a bunch of fabulous writers and thinkers are gathered there.

We’ve managed to have a few gatherings in our home to celebrate Advent. This has been wonderful and gentle and most of all expectant. The most amazing thing was being able to pray through Isaiah 35:1-10 using lectio divina with 7 children ranging in age from 8 to 14 last evening … and only 5 adults. And, both children and adults got something out of it. I’m still amazed. The kids are loving it too. This is even more amazing. I love watching God at play among the people.

This weekend was so hectic. Four hockey games, a hockey party (for LightGirl’s team), Advent gathering and yes, we squoze in time to breath and eat. The party for LightGirl’s team was so much fun. We had it here at the house. 11 girls, 2 boys and assorted parents. I planned lunch, a couple of activities and lots of time for talking and giggling. One of the activities was building gingerbread houses with ye olde standby … the trusty graham cracker. I didn’t think the girls would buy into it. But it was their favorite thing. They begged to get started and were completely into it. Much more than I anticipated 12, 13 and 14 yo girls would be. I still have their creations proudly displayed on the breakfast bar. I don’t have the heart to properly dispose of them. They are beautiful. LightBoy and his friend made gingerbread tanks (of course!) … after doing the appropriate research! Hilarious.

LightBoy is feeling the tension of not playing the war games, but is being good. He did, however, get a war movie at Blockbuster the other day. He couldn’t help it he said and swatted his eyelashes at me. Today at lunch I joined in mid-conversation when I overheard his father exclaim, “What are you going to do? Behead them and blow them up?”

“What?! Behead and blow what up?”

“No, Mom … I want to get Barbies at the Dollar Store to make angel Christmas ornaments.”

“Oh … well … you can’t do that either. Barbies … whether they’re at the Dollar Store or elsewhere are made by slave girls in China and we can’t support that. So you can’t get a Barbie. Or a knockoff. You could just Google how to make an angel ornament and make one like that.”

My poor, deprived children. They get great, creative ideas and their deranged socially alert mother shoots ’em down and makes them create out of recycled soda bottles and tissue paper … it was the saddest angel ornament you ever saw. I think Sam the dog might “accidently” eat it. That would be a shame. Maybe I will give him a little bit of guidance tomorrow.

I spent today fighting with my blog to upgrade it. Tomorrow I can do fun things like make cookies and angel ornaments with my children. Today I had to fight with technology. Maybe tomorrow I will be in a better mood. Tomorrah is a bettah day, after all.

Well then. I’m now keepin’ up with the Joneses and keepin’ on with getting ready for Thanksgiving.

Our first guests arrive today. The house is not ready. It will be. Sort of. Things will be fine and we’ll all have fun. It won’t go according to my original plan, but the necessary things will get done and the unnecessary things will drop away. Hopefully, I will remember to put the turkey in the oven on time.

It turns out that I do not have stress-induced eczema. I have a fungus that is causing the itching. Super! In what has become a standing pre-Thanksgiving tradition for LightHusband and I, we had matching doctors appointments yesterday afternoon. He has an upper respiratory infection and a sinus infection. I have fungus. Ewweth. Apparently we all have fungus on our skin, but if it gets underneath through a break in the skin then it becomes a problem. Bleh. Something I did not want to learn.
It makes having 16 for dinner on Thanksgiving and hosting a party for 35 the next day just another hoop to jump through. Keeping up and keeping on.

In other news, the grandparents will stay an extra day. We’re going to a Washington Capitals game on Saturday evening. This came up as a surprise yesterday afternoon. LightGirl has been chosen to skate with 3 of her team mates to help clear the ice between periods of the game that night. So while the rest of the thousands of fans will be there to see the game, at least five of the fans will be watching the cleaning of the ice! It’s very important you know 😀

Last, I’ve finished The Shack, by William P. Young. It was all the rage several months ago. I read several reviews of it all around the blog-o-sphere (including this one). It looked intriguing. So I threw it in my shopping cart in Amazon. Then one day it arrived. Such a miracle.

I know many (most) folks who read it sat down and did so in one sitting. Certainly, that is possible. And I wish I could have done so. But that wasn’t bloodly likely given my schedule lately. So I grabbed odd moments and before bed-time to read it. It’s a very powerful book packed into a small space. There’s a lot there.

I found it made an excellent companion piece to the book I reviewed here recently, It’s A Dance, by Patrick Oden. Having recently read that book gave me texture to bring to The Shack that I would not have had had I read it earlier.

I’m not entirely certain that every last jot and tittle of the theology is correct.  But then, I don’t know that anyone’s is.  Every one of us are making educated guesses.  Some guesses are more educated than others.  But not one of us knows the whole of what God is up to.  At best we see through a glass darkly; we see in part.  This book’s vision of the whole is winsome, captivating and certainly worth considering.  And certainly well worth the read.

So, after my whine yesterday, I find myself with a precious few moments this morning to write a quick post.  It’s only because I’m up early with the family as they run out to hockey practice.  After I get this out in the tubes, I’m off to put the very last (do you hear me?) coat of paint on the trim!!  And painting will be DONE!

In any case, in the midst of all the planning and preparation for Thanksgiving, my sisters-in-law and I have been multi-tasking.  We manage to do that well.  We have also been having several other conversations on the side.  One has been talk of color-coordinated family pictures to assuage my mother-in-law (a whole other story and don’t get me started).  A second has had to do with Christmas gift giving.

For several years now, my husband’s siblings and spouses have joined funds and given animals through Heifer, International.  Mostly we give goats.  For some reason this makes me inordinately happy.  Not the giving part (that makes me smile)… the goat part.

This year we have begun to discuss what changes we’d like to make to how and what we’ll give to nieces and nephews.  We’ve all agreed that our children have too much (how can I say this kindly) “stuff” and we don’t want to pass around any more “stuff” just for the sake of it.  So we’re talking about ways to reduce the “stuff” and increase the ways our children be in relationship with one another, even though they live so far away from each other (Vermont, Virginia and North Carolina).  There have been several ideas floated around … I think my favorite is the secret cousin idea.  We’re going to pick names while everyone is together over Thanksgiving.  Then at some point during the year they send a gift (but not at Christmas).  Now since the idea is to keep it a secret, they have to contact their other cousins (who’s names they didn’t draw) all during the year to muddy the waters until the reveal when they send their secret cousin gift.  There are eight cousins total, so it should be fun.  It will also be a lot of fun to see how the children play this out.

Now … for all those other gifts that need/want to be bought.  I am increasingly grumpy at the idea of just buying things.  I want to be an ethical shopper.  I found this post by Maria and this one by Cindy talking about the same things and listing places to find Christmas gifts that also make a difference in the lives of the people from whom they are purchased.  I thought I’d add my two cents … and place.  I’ve been getting this catalog for a couple of years now.  The products look lovely and are mostly made by women trying to support themselves.  It’s called Heartbeats:  Networking Women, Developing World and Minority Artists.

I’m trying to think outside the box this year.  I want my gifts to be handmade or bought from places like Heartbeats.  I think I’m just finished with commercialism.  A homemade bookmark and nice used book are perfectly good gifts, if I’ve spent time and heart on them.  Maybe I’ll make a batch of fudge for my dad … he likes fudge!  Hey … is that low fat?

This weekend was tough. It began on Friday when I demolished my kitchen. Just took it out.

Not entirely. Not literally. But figuratively and enough that it is virtually unuseable. We hired a painter to come in an paint the kitchen and our eat-in area for us. He got most of it done, but not all. He thought he’d get it all done. But there are a few dribbles left. He was miraculous to watch.

No. Tape.

Now the kitchen looks like Fresh Butter. Beautiful.

We left early Saturday morning for another hockey weekend … this time to Raleigh, NC. Two very hard hockey games and two demoralizing losses later we arrived back home Sunday afternoon. The girls learned more about working losing together as a team, but this was brutally difficult work and it hurt to watch them go through it.

We spent a lot of time in the car (7 hours total) and I had a lot time to think. Jamie has been doing a Friday series on St. Francis that I’ve been enjoying. I didn’t really know why until this weekend. But all the tiles fell into place on the car ride.

In another life time (before kids), I used to do counted cross-stitch. It was one of my hobbies before quilting took over. I’ve had many hobbies in my life. I also used to do stained glass (I’ll tell that story another time). This was also during the days before I knew Jesus too. A friend taught me how to count my stitches. There is something very soothing to me about this hobby. It’s extremely controlled and yet … almost anything can be created with your stitches. I love that.

Shortly after I learned the basics my friend and her mom took me to a store to buy a pattern and supplies so that I could make something of my own. I still remember that first pattern and project … in part, because I never finished it! This is the story of my life. I manage to complete projects I’m doing for someone else. The projects I do for me, languish on a shelf. It’s still here in a box somewhere. I picked it because it was a prayer that I wanted for myself. I read this prayer and connected with it on so many levels. It was the prayer that is commonly known as the Prayer of St. Francis.

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen.

I fell in love with it because it was simple, heartfelt, and unadorned. The project was the words of the prayer surrounded by dogwood blossoms, which are prevalent in the spring here in Virginia. I can still see it in my mind’s eye. Someday, I may find that project again and finish it up. I stitched the words, but got overwhelmed with the blossoms. I moved on to other projects; then to stained glass and then quilting. But I’ve always felt a special connection with St. Francis because of that silly, unfinished project that spoke to me long before I could hear Jesus speaking.

It is, in my mind, an ebenezer … a marker or monument, to the working of God in my life before I recognized it or truly recognized Him. I think that’s why I’ve been enjoying Jamie’s series so much. At long last, I’m learning more about the saint who spoke through the centuries into my heart when I couldn’t hear much of anything else.

I’ve been fumbling around lately. There’s a lot going on in my head (which may be dangerous). You’ve seen the results of some of it, but not too much. I feel torn though. I have a lot of different people who read this blog. Some of them (hi Mom) read it because they love me. Others read it because I’ve fooled them into thinking I’ve got something interesting to say every once in a while. But I find that I want to focus my scope here. So, I’ve been doing some building and creating. I’ve made a couple of other homes … this may make me feel slightly schizophrenic, I don’t know. But I made a blog to talk about my family life; hockey, homeschooling, etc. Like I can brag over there that LightGirl was named Player of the Week on her team last week. That blog is called Grandfather Ent and if you’ve developed any sort of interest in my kids and their hockey, you can follow them over there. I also decided that I needed a place to write about my adventures in quilting because not writing about it was making me a little bit nutty. I’m also going to post occasional photos of my WISPs (that is Works In Slow Progress). I called that blog Withywindle Counterpanes. I’ll be writing more about churchy, Jesusy things here from now on and keeping my children and design things for my “other” spaces. I’ll see how that works.

I’ve done some maintenance on my sidebar here too. I’ve split up my blogroll into two pieces. I wanted to call attention to the women bloggers that I follow and give them a special place. So I called that folder “Galadriel” for the leader of Lothlorien in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. She was a leader with power who focused on peace. The men that I follow are still under “Beacon-Hills” which I also think is fitting.

You may have noticed a trend here … I seem to find a lot of my nomenclature from MiddleEarth. Yep. I do. That’s because those stories have always spoken into my life and continue to do so. For instance, Calacirya is the name of a ravine. It’s mentioned only once in the books … but it’s known as the Ravine of Light, hence the reason I refer to my husband and children as LightHusband and LightChildren. I used to have a pseudonym which was Celtic and meant Lady of Light. I like the light theme and will be using it more often in the future. I’m not certain how that will play out, but it will.

I’ve also added a couple of icons to my sidebar.  One is for the new book written by Patrick Oden, It’s A Dance.  This icon leads to the website he’s created to go with the book.  Patrick’s got a unique vision for church that I’d like to encourage … so here’s my tiny, little helping hand.  Click on that link and explore his site.  Better yet, read the book! then go to the website.  I know Thanksgiving is nigh, but I now have a hunger for something better and not yet after reading it.  I’m fairly certain it’s not pie!!  The second icon will lead you to the Daily Office of the Northumbria Community.  I’ve been praying that off and on for several years now out of my book (Celtic Book of Daily Prayer), which can get awkward and cumbersome; flipping back and forth between bible and pages, etc.  I just discovered that the Northumbria Community has their Office on-line and it is sooooo convenient.  I even built myself a “gadget” for my Google Homepage … it will be available to the general public in about ten days if you’re interested.   This makes it fabulously easy to pray with the saints worldwide.  So you can get to it through the icon on my sidebar and wander around the island at Northumbria for a while.  Then stay and pray with me if you will.  I’d love it.

There you have it … I’m seeking some zen or other of blogging.  I’ll let you know if I find it.  We’ll see if this works out … or not.

Today is the day …

Trick or treating for LightBoy in the guise of Fimli, Gimli’s second cousin (that is, a dwarf of MiddleEarth). He is beyond excited. I’m not certain what beyond excited is, but he’s there.

LightGirl, on the other hand, has hockey practice. But things are are looking up for her too. She is, for the first time since late June, playing in the goal for practice. We think her knee can manage that. It’s a short practice. She is also excited. I put together goodie bags for the girls who eschew trick or treating to come to practice. This is a surprise for them. It is also possible that I’ve put too much candy into these bags. I tried to balance it out with some lip gloss and nail polish and CoachWonderWoman is adding some sillystring (and more candy). But after all, Halloween really is all about the candy.

Here’s LightGirl with GoalieGirl … our new goalie. Yes, she is wearing LightGirl’s jersey. She borrowed it for team photos that were taken last night as her red jersey has not yet arrived. They have become really good friends.