Archive for Blog Posts
Casserole Life
During my recent weekend with the women of Mama’s Happy, I was comforted by watching busy moms pull beautiful crafts, artwork, revived furniture and other upcycle treasures from mini vans chock full of evidence of everything their lives hold.
Watching one artsy mom extract an upcycled wooden shelf from between two children with sippy cups, narrowly missing the dog and grazing the soccer gear was a feat to behold. As two soccer balls and a can of soup bounced from the car with the final pull of the shelf, it was like balm to my soul. Ahhhh, maybe I am normal.
I live a casserole life. Little bits and pieces of the umpteen roles I play moment by moment. All jumbled up and swirling in my brain where I mentally (and physically) juggle, 24/7.
My husband’s life is more like my picky son’s plate. Small bits of food that don’t touch. Discrete portions. Nice, compartmentalized blocks of sustenance. Wake. Work. Home. Sleep. Repeat. He may not agree, but this is my darned column after all.
A brief inventory of items in my minivan at any given moment on any given day:
• Cell phone
• List of numbers for on-the-road calls for full-time gig as a marketing director
• List of numbers of sitter, emergency sitter, library (must call to renew before fines consume balance of pitifully small college fund!)
• Small pile of ads I must approve by Friday while in line at drive-thru
• Lawn chairs for next sporting event (for full-time job as a soccer mom)
• Furniture (large) for next project (For job I’m hoping becomes full-time someday)
• Half-eaten food
• Socks, dirty
• Swimsuits and towels, mildewy
• Shoes, muddy & only one
• Dog leash
• Legos
• Broken latch from kitchen cupboard (Where IS that hardware store?)
• Clothes pins, felt & marshmallows for kids craft project I’m teaching Sunday
• Screwdriver, hammer, nails, glue gun (don’t ask)
I’ll stop there, but you get the jist. You have the same minivan, right? This is a backstage pass of why I love Mama’s Happy so much. It’s a community of women who find time and energy to give voice to their creative souls, amidst the swirling array of a casserole life. In the end, all this chaos and creativity comes together on the store’s stage as something amazingly beautiful and soul-sustaining, ready for the delight of the women who shop and take home just the right affordably luxurious ingredients for their own casserole lives.
As I catch the eye of another artist/mom, sweaty from unloading goods and dressed for the baseball game that she’s headed to right after her shift at the store, with kids and travel mug in tow, I smile. Mama is happy. Disheveled and sleep-deprived, but very happy.
Introducing Hilary…Mama’s Happy’s Very Own Columnist!
Big Enough
The other night, I was praying. To call it praying is probably a stretch. It was more like moaning and whining around in my soul that maybe what I’ve always suspected is true –that maybe my life isn’t big enough for me. As soon as the thought slipped out of my brain, a small, still voice said, “Maybe that’s not the problem at all. Maybe the trouble is, you’re not big enough yet for your life.”
I don’t know if it was the Holy Spirit or not. It sounds like the sort of annoying thing the Holy Spirit says when he wants to right-size my ego.
So here I am writing, not because of what I know, but because of what I cannot ever seem to know for more than a few nanoseconds at a time, and want desperately to commit to permanent memory. My joy is not dependent upon my situation changing. I am blessed, regardless of circumstance. And The Lord is my portion. I have all that I need because I have Jesus.
Here’s something I dug out of my archives.
A Christmas Story… (Kleese Christmas card 2009)
“All I have…”
I have all.
Once upon a time, 12 guys faced a hungry, angry mob of 5000, and said “All we have…” and Jesus said, “Well, give me what’cha got.” And He blessed it and made it enough. In summary… Me + Jesus = plenty.
This Christmas, we thank God for the gift of His Son who is enough for all needs, all circumstances, for all time.
Crazy year, huh?
Amidst uncertainty, there’s opportunity to return…
to reflection when action fails,
to stewardship when consumption fails,
to simplicity when complexity fails,
to gratitude when striving fails,
to joy when happiness fails.
And to community when independence fails.
For you who are hurting, jobless, hungry, grieving, worried or weary, we pray for God’s peace that passes all understanding this season and in the coming year.
For you who are healthy, happy, busy, rejoicing, vivacious and sleeping well at night, we praise God and rejoice with you.
For all of you, thanks for loving us and being part of our lives. We’re grateful for the blessing of knowing you and doing life with you.
With God in charge and you by our side,
we’re truly blessed.
I wrote the above ditty for our family Christmas card. Spent a lot of time on it, actually. But I never actually got around to sending out Christmas cards this past year. I got as far as creating the Publisher file I was going to use to print onto card stock and do something crafty with. Good thing, because I didn’t actually mean it. I wanted to mean it. It sounds good. Sounds nice and Christian-y. And intellectually, I knew it was 100% true. But while I knew it, I didn’t feel it.
Actually, I did mean it, for other people. It just didn’t feel true for me. I could count my blessings and I did on a regular basis, like a mantra that would somehow prevent me from going completely insane. And I know that there are about a billion people worse off than me. Still, I felt a thick tumor of lack growing thick and crawly around my neck. I wore it like a ten-ton broach, and it went with me everywhere. Often, it still does.
I’ve been struggling with the concept of portion and abundance. I’ve been coming back to this circular path that I travel with God and sometimes on my own that meanders between recognition of all that He’s blessed me with, and a feverish anger that He hasn’t blessed me enough, the way I wanted Him to. The way He seems to bless others.
Portion. The Lord is my portion and my lot is secure? My lot doesn’t feel very secure. My lot feels a lot precarious. Why is that? Is it really precarious, or is there something wrong with how I’m reading the situation?
David, the man “after God’s own heart” knew both about abundance and lack, provision and loss. He was brutally honest with God, the good, bad and the ugly. Wonder if he was saying these things out of heartfelt belief, or out of the same type of mantra self-talk that I use sometimes.
Psalm 16:5 LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.
Psalm 73:26 My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Psalm 119:57 You are my portion, O LORD; I have promised to obey your words.
Psalm 142:5 I cry to you, O LORD; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”
I want to believe the above truths because I know in my head that they are true. On good days, I even know it in my heart. But I want to live it. I want to rest in it always. I want to soak it up, drink it down and let it ooze out of every pore. I want to draw on it to strengthen others, not just say good stuff that I believe for them, but don’t really claim for myself.
And that’s why I’m writing. Because maybe in this study journey, I’ll latch onto God’s promises in a way I haven’t before. Along the way, I may also jot down something that may speak to someone else. At a minimum, I’ll perhaps come up with a blurb or two for my bi-annual family Christmas card, sent without fail every other Arbor Day.