Kristin Lavransdatter

Medieval Norway. 
Historical fiction, particularly a love story or a story of motherhood.
Theology.

Okay, here's the deal.  If you're interested in any two of the above three topics, you should enjoy the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy.

Me?  I didn't care diddly about medieval Norway.  But, hey, I learned something as I read through these books.  (Warning: it sure wasn't easy reading for me.  And to be fair, I started the series before my brain broke.  Even back in early spring it was a stretch.  For a while after my hospitalization, I considered reading Kristen to be therapy.)

I want so much to chatter on about the book.  Oh, uh, I mean, uh, critique it.  Yeah, that's it.  But I don't know how I can say anything without giving away spoilers.

My friend Polly would often recommend the Kristen series to people who were gathering a new reading list for themselves.  Last year, several other friends decided to read the series.  The books got a nearly-universal thumbs-up as more people recommended them enthusiastically.  And now I'm part of the crowd. 

More Brain Recovery

Speech therapist and physical therapist told me last Friday that I had "met all the goals" which had been set for me in the hospital.  I'm still in need of plenty of work: strength, endurance, speed.  While my legs still look spindly, we can now feel that there's something in my calves besides bone and skin-cover.  Although I appear to be building up some small amount of muscle, I still have not regained any of the weight lost during the hospital stay.  (Now, the flabby stuff on my belly which disappeared?  It can just stay gone!   The muscles in my legs --puny though they were-- need to come back, please!)

I am allowed to do light housework now.  Problem is, I can only tackle one thing per day.  Today it was picking strawberries and lettuce from our small garden.  Yesterday it was out-patient therapy and a short trip to the grocery store.  Day before was church and a bit of time with the kids.  Tomorrow is laundry and therapy and evening church; this will definitely require in-between napping.  I don't know when the vacuum cleaner and I will ever become reacquainted.

I've been given permission to begin weaning myself off the nerve-pain medicine.  I think I'll be off that drug prior to my follow-up visit with the neurologist.  I've bent the ear of two doctors, two therapists, and one nurse.  Nobody will budge on beginning to wean off the anti-seizure drug.  Thing is, I am really getting annoyed by its side-effects.  The neurologist suggested that the side-effects should lessen as I get rid of the other med. 

My boss is still patiently waiting to hear from the neurologist about my follow-up visit.  Turns out my employer was required by law to hold my position for me for only two weeks.  They have been more than generous in finding substitutes for me on the work-schedule.  They do want me back if at all possible.  It's so awesome to have a good employer that acts according to the Table of Duties' "To Masters" section.

When I talked to the neurologist last time, I gained a little more hope for returning to driving.  He said it makes a difference that I had a "provoked seizure" instead of a seizure that my body came up with on its own.  I guess if you go poking around in somebody's brain, sending her into a seizure doesn't mean she's going to have her own seizures later. 

I'm beginning to see what I suspect are side effects of not drinking my kombucha.  Today I talked to our doctor about the chin rash and the lower back pain.  Nothing to do but treat the symptoms.  I keep thinking that some of these things would resolve themselves if I could get back to my kombucha and my supplements and off the drugs.  But I am, so far, managing to be an obedient patient.

Still exhausted.  The doctors and therapists insist that "When You're Doing NOTHING Is When Your Brain Is Healing.  So do a lot of nothing."  No fear.  I am still quite the lazy slug.  Naps are my friend.

Okay, I think that's pretty much all the news for those of you who are asking how I'm doing. 
:-)

Cause Your Face to Shine, and We Shall Be Saved

The Aaronic benediction --
the way God told His priests to put His name on the people --
the way God designed for His people to be blessed:

The Lord make His face shine upon you
and be gracious unto you.

Psalm 31, right in the midst of the psalmist's plea to be rescued from those who are persecuting him:

Make Your face shine upon Your servant;
save me for Your mercies' sake.

I don't know about anybody else, but I think it's really cool that David, in his grief and his weakness and his prayers, grabbed hold of the liturgy to speak it back to God. 

And I think the psalm sheds light on what we hear at the end of every Service.  The pastor's not just saying some nicey-nice words about happy stuff happening to us.  He's not wishing us some inspirational, [temporally] abundant-life kind of week.  No.  The words of the Benediction are about mercy and salvation and rescue and the resurrection of the body.  These words are about Jesus and His suffering and death for us.

PS: In case I forget later where the line from

the title was drawn, it's from Psalm 80.

"We Don't Like Show-offs Around Here"

I signed up for Curves primarily because Maggie needed exercise.  We went together.  It's not the toughest, most strenuous workout.  I try to get more out of the gym-time by pushing harder on the cardio segments, swinging my arms, jogging with my knees higher, or whatever can push me to maybe (?) break a sweat.  A few times, an elderly woman has said to me, "Hey, we don't like show-offs around here."

I don't know if it's the same woman who's said it several times, or different women.  I don't know if it's a weird, back-handed compliment or if it's a genuine complaint.  I don't know if it's a clumsy but well-meaning way to try to initiate conversation with a new-comer. 

I have no idea how to respond to that comment, so I usually don't.  I usually act as if I didn't hear.  But it always leave me in a quandary: Do I take a lazy approach to working out so that I don't offend those who cannot expend as much effort as I do used to?  Do I work as hard as before, and try to explain? 

Someone said it to me again last month.  One or two minutes before my brain aneurysm ruptured.

I've wondered several times what she thought when I collapsed and they called 911 and the paramedics rushed up with the ambulance.  Was she horrified at her comment?  Did she think, "Serves her right, the show-off"? 

Maybe God in His grace caused her to not even remember that she said it.

The Holy Ghost Is Not Confetti

... but nevertheless the analogy keeps resurfacing in my mind.

It's that time of year when the maple trees are dropping their helicopter seeds.  It's that time of year when little children gather up handfuls of helicopters and thrrrrrow them up into the air, to spin and spread and float everywhere.

Or imagine the kind of confetti that flies everywhere during a ticker-tape parade.

Remember the story of the sower and the seed (Mark 4)?  The guy sowing the seed was reckless.  He took handfuls of seed and threw it everywhere.  He spread it and spread it and spread it.  Even where it would never grow.

The Holy Spirit can never be separated from the Word.
The Word can never be separated from the Holy Spirit.

Pentecost is that word --that Spirit-- blowing where the Lord wills.  Everywhere.

"I Just Want You To Be Happy"

Pastor keeps saying it over and over:  Our society believes, "All that matters is that they're happy."  Okay, I figure he's right, but I didn't know where he kept bumping into this credo. 

I've been watching more than my normal share of movies recently.  One after another after another: "I just want you to be happy" and "whatever it takes for them to be happy."  If it's not a theme, it is at least accepted-as-universal-truth in most of the movies made in the last ten years.

Weaselly little thing to sneak into our brains under the guise of niceness.  After all, who would care about what was good for a person if it might make them uncomfortable?

Brain Recovery

Been home from the hospital for two weeks now.

This morning virtually all the kids left for a marvelous family reunion.  It's just Gary and me at home.  Doctors said I couldn't make the trip.  My body confirms the fact that I am grounded.  Bummers.


However, ...

Yesterday my physical therapist lifted my restriction of needing 24-hour supervision.
And she told me that, most of the time, I should not be using the walker.
And she told me I could use the stairs.  (I saw the basement today for the first time post-crash.  It was still there, and thanks to Maggie's hard work, the laundry was done.)

Hair has grown to maybe a half-inch.  I still think I'm bald, but Gary thinks he's the one who's actually bald.

I'm off all the narcotics.  Boy, withdrawal is nasty.  I guess I can see why people might want to keep taking the medicine when they don't need it ... if it relieves the withdrawal symptoms.  But to dive into taking these pills for "fun"??  [shudder]

I finally approached the stove.  I cooked a fried egg yesterday and heated some soup today.  Nothing exploded or caught fire.  But for the most part, dear friends and church-members are preparing most of our meals.

Maggie and I planted two tomatoes in the raised bed I had prepped the day before my crash.  Because of the prior physical labor, it wasn't hard to get some tomato plants in the dirt, especially with Mag's help.  And, oh!!, the wondiferous smell of tomato leaves!  Also, the strawberries have just begun to turn red.  Alia ate the first one yesterday and highly approved.  Gary picked four today.  Mmmmm.

I'm yearning for a bottle of kombucha or a beer.  And it's four whole weeks more until I see the neurologist and can even ask about moving in that direction.

Wedding Registry

This may be tacky, but here we go ...

Because people have asked about Andrew & Olivia's wedding registry, I'm announcing that they are registered at Kohl's and at Target. 

However, those are ideas, suggestions.  If you see something on one of those lists, and can find a better deal, or have a nice hand-me-down, or would prefer to give something similar but not what's on the registry, please do not be confined to The List. 

Personally, I often stick to what's listed on a registry because I know the purchase will knock that item off the list, making it less likely for the couple to receive duplicates.  So here's my suggestion:  If you find something on clearance at Bed, Bath and Beyond, or if you find something at Walmart for half-price, or if you're sewing hand-made kitchen towels, let me know.  I will tell Olivia and Andrew to adjust their registry, taking the item off their wish-list. 

End of advertisement.

Brain Surgery

Two weeks in ICU.  A few more days in the regular part of the hospital.  And some time at home trying to recuperate and get back to quasi-functional.

Brain aneurysm decided to bleed.  I'm still trying to piece together the stories I heard.  Ambulance trip to the local hospital.  Transferred to the big teaching hospital. 

Everybody was there with me for Mother's Day.  That's pretty cool.

Pastors who come to visit in the hospital are wonderful.  Especially when they talk like pastors, and pray psalms and sing hymns and bring God's word to bear on the situation!

Thank God for a resident who went home one night and studied and read and studied some more.  She figured out the weirdo side effect I was experiencing and helped figure out the root causes of the debilitating, excruciating pain.  Not that the pain is gone yet, but it's certainly improving.

Head is shaved.  Didn't know what else to do with the bald patch from the surgery.  Everybody tells me it's growing so fast.  Alia and I still think it looks like boy-hair.

Spent today catching up on paying bills and then sorting through other paperwork.  In those piles, I found oh-so-many cards and notes from loved ones.  Presumably I saw all of these earlier, but many of them were completely new to me.  (There was a lot of stuff people told me during the hospital stay that is completely lost.)  It was heart-warming to read through all those messages, cards, and notes this afternoon!

Still puzzling about my job.  They're willing to hold my spot open.  But I don't know how long it will be before I'm capable, and I keep wondering if it would be better to tell them to replace me and then rehire me at some unspecified time "later."  Then there's also the problem of how long it will be before I'm allowed to drive again.  It's hard to have a job when you can't get yourself there. 

Still pondering how to respond to those who tell me I was so lucky that the collapse happened when I was in a place to be caught immediately, about a block from the fire station (where the ambulances live).  I don't think that going to be with Jesus would've been that bad a thing.  However, if it had happened to Gary or the kids, I'd certainly be thankful if they had pulled through a normally-fatal medical emergency.

Overwhelmed by the dinners brought to us, the flowers, the cheery balloons, the cards. The assistance with mowing the yard.  The garden-tending.  The housecleaning. 

Going back to church is the best!

Tomorrow I begin outpatient therapy.

Probably more to tell.  But I had no nap today, and thus it's bedtime.

The Frugal Benefit of NOT Planning Menus Ahead

Menu-planning.  Everybody tells us that is the way to save money on the grocery budget. 

Okay, there's some truth to it.  You plan the menus, go to the grocery store once that week (or two weeks), buy what you need, and stick to the plan.  That's definitely more frugal than running to the store repeatedly or going out to eat. 

But I developed an even cheaper way.  I was shocked recently to see my scheme promoted on a website for eating local and organic.

Plan your menu AFTER shopping, not before. This allows you to stay on budget because you aren’t shopping for special ingredients to make pre-planned meals. You can take advantage of the best deals and plan your meals around those.  This can also help by keeping those unplanned budget purchases from going to waste in your crisper drawer while you carry on with your planned menu.

I like to jot down meal-plan ideas as I'm going through the store.   Lettuce is cheap?  Grab a few heads, write "taco salad" in the margin of your grocery list, and then make sure you grab a tomato and a pepper to be part of the salad.

Find some pork roast marked down to a frugal price because tomorrow is its expiration date?  Toss the roast in the cart, make a note of it in the margin, and remind yourself that it should be cooked tonight or tomorrow.

Find the el-cheapo deals at the store and then figure out what you'll turn it into. It doesn't always work: sometimes you can't find the fabulous deals.  Other weeks, time constraints at dinner will trump the plans you could've developed from the week's good deals at the store.  But other weeks, everything falls into place easily ... and for half the price of pre-planned menus.

Definition of "Engagement"

So if a couple is living together,
if they have a legal contract for rent or mortgage,
if they co-own pets, furniture, bank accounts,

what is it to become engaged?

Gary suggests that engagement really doesn't have anything to do with marriage (for most people out there in the world today) but is more about planning a big hoopla of a party ... and possibly a splendiferous vacation/honeymoon too.

And that would be why we Christians appear to be such oddities -- focused more on the decades-long marriage than on the day-long wedding.

And it would also explain why so many living-together couples end up divorcing not long into the marriage.  Sometimes the thing they had in common was the event of the wedding, and once that's past, it's past.

Sweet Honey from the Rock

Flipping through a homeschool catalog once upon a time, I saw a CD by the singers "Sweet Honey from the Rock."  I assumed the group's name came from the last verse of Psalm 81.  (Wiki confirms this.  For whatever that's worth.)

But the honey in the psalm isn't just about the stuff bees make.  And it's certainly not about richness and beauty coming from an unexpected location.  We read throughout Scripture* how the Rock-which-was-Christ provided for both physical and eternal needs.  We read how God's Word is eaten and tastes sweet.  Really, God?!  EAT a scroll?  And yet, Ezekiel and John both said it was true: the scroll was sweeter than honey.



* Ex 16, Deut 32:13
Ps 19:10, Ps 119:103
Ezek 3:3, Rev 10:9

Garden Report

The lettuces planted on April 5 took three weeks to germinate and come up.  They are now a whoppin' 1/4" tall.  This past Saturday I planted a mix of heirloom lettuces; some are 50-day lettuce and some 60 and some 75.   If I thin them properly, that should give me a good month's worth of lettuce from the one planting.  Knowing me, I'm afraid I'll thin so that only one variety will remain growing.

I had intended to again plant potatoes in a pile of dead leaves in the compost bed.  But as I pulled large old weeds out of the compost pile, I was amazed at the awesome beauty of that dirt.  Oh, it was black.  And soft and fine and crumbly.  Not clay-like at all.  I'm not wasting that luscious dirt on potatoes.  I'm putting something more precious in that raised bed which spent its last few summers as the compost pile.  I don't know yet what's going to live there this summer.  Probably a couple of tomatoes and some herbs and some more lettuces.

Potatoes should be planted in the waning moon.  I'd been sick during most of April's waning moon.  New moon was fast approaching, and several days of rain was due.  If I didn't get those potatoes in the ground before bedtime last Saturday, there'd be another 2-3 week delay.  So I dug trenches and hauled dead leaves to fill those trenches.  My potatoes are now in the dirt.  And they're being nicely and gently watered every day from the rain.  Of course, it's refrigerator temperature outside.  So I'm not sure how the seeds will fare.  But I've done what I can do.

The tulips have tight, small, very-green buds.  The lilacs have tiny green leaves on them, but no sign of buds.  The apples, crab apples, and cherry trees show no signs of leaves yet.  Usually by the end of April, the lilacs and the crab apples have already bloomed and are finishing their spring floweriness.  Not this year.

Honestly, with the weather, I'm not planning on summer crops.  No beans, no corn, no melons.  I figure I'll grow a few batches of spring veggies.  Except tomatoes.  Gotta at least try on the tomatoes!

Today's Laugh

Grabbed off Facebook:

What's so great about living in Switzerland?
Hmmm.
I guess the flag is a big plus.

What's That Word Mean, Anyhow?

When Jesus died, He "yielded up" His Spirit (Matt 27).

In the Lord's Prayer (Matt 6), we pray, "forgive us" our trespasses as we "forgive" those who trespass against us.

"Forgive" and "yielded up" are the same word in Greek -- send forth, discharge, let go, cancel, forgive, tolerate.

For being the same word in Greek, those sure sound very different in our English translations.  But I guess Jesus' death and letting go of the Holy Spirit is why forgiveness is preached and spread and spoken to sinners throughout the world.

Easter Pictures

Nanna got her hands on the Matthias.

This is just such a happy picture.

Beautiful mama.  And that couldn't possibly be a yawn from baby.   I think he must be singing "Alleluia"; don't you agree?

Not MY Problem

Judas went to the priests with his sin: "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood."  Hey, "you see to it," buster.  Not my problem, say the priests.

Later in the same chapter, Pilate sees that a riot is starting.  He says he's "innocent of the blood of this Just Man" and told them "you see to it."  Not my problem, says the governor.

In both cases, the man's station in life, his work, his job, was to deal with the problem before him.  But no: "you see to it."  

April Pictures

Zoe (and Alia) -- April 3

Zoe was showing me how she can put her hand by her chin in a certain ponderous pose: "Dis is what finking looks like."

Alia -- April 3

Where's Waldo?

Papa and Matthias -- April 6

My Lord and My God

Last weekend during the services, we kept hearing God call us "My people." 
The reproaches on Friday: "Oh, My people!"
And Friday's collect: "behold this Your family ..."
Isaiah 53: "for the transgressions of My people He was stricken."
Exodus 15: "in Your mercy You have led forth the people whom You have redeemed."
Isaiah 25: "the rebuke of His people He will take away."

And this week, Thomas:
"My Lord and my God."

Today's Laugh

 

 

Stolen from Polly's FB page