Recently Thaine pointed out I hadn't written anything for the blog for a while. Having a new baby tends to do that to one's blogging. Last I wrote, I felt my level of existence was hovering just above the French Toast as it cooked. Now, I think I am one with the French Toast. I am in its very substance! This is not meant to sound depressing. Usually lower altitude is synonymous with discouragement. Overwhelmed might be a good word at times, but there is still hope in overwhelmed-ness! I would like to think of it as more of a Thoreauian phase of life. Not that I think Thoreau is the ultimate source of wisdom, but I've always admired the hearty, honest ring to this passage from Walden Pond...
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.
I think it could be biblicly reworded like this...
I want to see the Lord because I wish to live purposefully, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I can learn what it is, and not, when I come to die, discover that I have not lived. I do not wish to live what is not life, living is so dear; nor do I wish to pursue a delusion. I want to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Christ-like as to put to rout all that is not true, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its truest terms, and if it proves to be hard, why then to grow and to gain all that God has for me in sharing in His sufferings, to know it by experience, and able to give an account of the hope that is within me.
With a very active and frequently frustrated 2 ½ year old and a helpless 2 1/2 month old, not to mention the highly dramatic 4 ½ year old and the ceaselessly busy and chatty almost 8, 10 and 11 year olds, these are marathon days. I don't actually think much of the challenge has to do with border life or missions life. Most of our hours are at home, or on campus when it's the right thing to do. Thaine is "the guy that goes out" to Mexico, Colorado, as needed, and that's appropriate. (He takes various combinations of kids with him when he can.) Life is bound to be challenging no matter where we are, and it is better for me to be in the substance of the French Toast than anywhere else.
Some of the exhiliarating things which help the intensity of life include reading and painting. I am mildly depressed that we are at the end of our academic materials for the year. I learned a lot, and the kids did too. Sonlight recommends such amazing books, and the reading the kids do and the read-aloud books are keyed into the history we study. We will continue to read through the summer, but I'm eager for school to start up again as soon as possible. Sometimes I think I'm too bent on our schooling, and wonder why I am so driven to read to the kids at night. Rather than worry that it's a control-freak manifestation, I've just decided I am a book-a-holic who deserves a book at the end of the day and is trying to lure her kids down the same path. Thankfully, they've never resented the evening reading even if they were pulled from something else go come home; the books are undeniably good, thanks to our curriculum.
For months I have eyed the watercolor materials Thaine gave me for a birthday and wistfully realized how long it had been since there was time to paint. Well, as part of our summer routine it appears we will be painting regularly, as the kids absolutely love it, and the older two have a happy interest in watercolor techniques. I have already done two still lifes based on common kitchen items cast upon the table as soon as the younger two could be persuaded to sleep. It is interesting to see the different approaches. Jeremy paints objects with great certainty, confidence and lack of interest in new techniques. Usually he eats whatever he paints, often before he's done with the subject. A banana is yellow, what else is there to look at? Down it goes. Rosemary has her own style and dabbles in pseudo-realistic subject matter with glorious texture and color represented. It reminds me of Matisse. Daniel is very technical and interested in how to handle the paint to get different results. It is rewarding when the rock of the family, the island not much given to complimenting others, watches over my shoulder and says, "Wow, Mom. How did you do that?" Ah, son, let me tell you more than you really wanted to hear. He has done two very detailed snakes so far.
If we can just have a good day learning or working, encouraging the people under the age of 5, and preferably painting, life in the skillet is pretty darn good. After all, since Jesus is the bread of life, why try to escape the French Toast? The "essential facts of life" are probably in here, somewhere!
--Erika