Flourishing Failure

Last spring, we began a worm bin, a fun little project in which dead leaves, table scraps, and a handful of worms transform an old trash can into a compost factory.

Like so many of our well-intentioned projects, however, the worm bin kind of, sort of, somehow... Let's be honest... failed.

(Since we're being honest, I'll tell you that it kind of, sort of, somehow failed because I kind of, sort of, somehow forgot to do more than periodically throw in a bowl full of fruit and vegetable scraps).

So when our "compost mentor" asked how our worms were doing and if we'd been watering the bin, I smiled and hung my figurative head in shame. Then I went home, poured some water over the dead leaves and scraps of rotting food, and stirred it up a little. 

And because the darkening sky threatened to let loose a deluge, I left the trash can lid open.

Several days later, because... Let's be honest... neglect is a hard habit to break, I revisited our little failure of a worm bin, and this is what I found:

I'm not gardener enough to tell you with any certainty what these plants are. I have my ideas, but I won't embarrass myself. The point is, things are growing, flourishing even, right in the middle of my failure of a worm bin.

And the other point, far more inspirational than random vegetables sprouting in my worm bin, is that failure isn't always failure. I have read several reports of parents feeling like failures lately. Whether failures as home educators or failures as classroom parents or just plain failures as parents, I think we have all, at one point or another, felt the defeat of failure.

But look at those pictures again. 

Trash and dirt and worms. 

A crummy, neglectful gardener.

And out of it all, Life, beautiful and good.

However ugly, dirty, and thoughtless your life is, it's not the end of the story.  The Creator of the universe, who causes the sun to shine and the rain to fall even on a neglected worm bin, can turn your failures into something beautiful and good.

The Upside of Everything

The winter holidays fill me with a certain amount of trepidation. So much to do, so many places to be... and all intentions of sending out Christmas cards drown in the sea of my internal angst.

The new year comes too quickly for me to send out a New Year's Newsletter.

And then, before I know, the Ides of March is a distant memory, and I have failed to send out the Happy Ides of March Update I thought I'd be able to manage.

But now I'm seeing all these End of the Year Celebrations and Reading Banquets and "Look at my Middle Schooler!" pictures on Facebook, and you know what...

I'm going to rejoice.

I'm going to set aside all our current and past struggles and just rejoice in the past year's successes. Regarding those struggles, they have existed and do exist, and if you want to know more, pour a cup of coffee for us both and get comfortable.... but not today.

Today, I rejoice in the following triumphs:

1. The hubby has taken up running and is logging ridiculous miles. As much as I may tease him for wearing tights or short shorts, depending on the weather, I am immensely proud of him and a little jealous of his tenacity, to say nothing of the pounds he has shed.

2. The eldest is a whopping eleven years of age now. He continues to devour books at a rate too rapid to document, is gaining independence, and is in general, a super-cool preteen. 

3. The nine-year-old has acquired a taste for Percy Jackson and Warriors, and likes most to hear these stories in the comfort of a snuggle, which suits his mother marvelously. His creativity continues to amaze me, as does the progress he has made in communicating and controlling his feelings over the past year.

4. The girl, soon to be six, is beginning to navigate the strange intricacies of socializing with elementary-aged girls. While sometimes appalled at her overly expressive face, I find her ways generally delightful and her tenderness toward the young heart-wrenchingly beautiful. And since I've shared her older brothers' reading feats, she has joined the world of readers and is fitting in just fine.

5. Our little Doodlebug... loves Star Wars, stuffed animals, AWANA, and Mo Willems (whom you all should go read right now, by the way). He has just graduated to the booster seat WITHOUT the back, at least in Daddy's car, a fact that somewhat appalls me. My baby is... not so much a baby anymore. He is, however, a darling, funny, adorable big boy.

6. And then there is yours truly, who finished a novel and is pecking away at revisions in the hope of catching a literary agent and hopefully a book deal in the coming year. At times, I struggle to balance the wonderfully demanding roles of wife, mother, teacher, and author, but each role is satisfying in its own way, and I am immensely thankful for the liberty to hold and cherish each role with which God has blessed me.

The year ahead holds  many changes for our family, some predictable, but others, if the past is any indication of the future, will take us entirely by surprise. 

But always, always, always, whatever may come, 

I rejoice.

The Mommy Wars: Tactical Maneuvers

Maybe it's because I'm a mom, or because most of my friends are moms, or because I have a daughter whose biggest dream, when she isn't mesmerized by thoughts of being a dentist or a dolphin trainer, is to be a mom, but when I hear about The Mommy Wars, I want to fight the injustice of a culture that pits women against each other and against themselves.

On Wednesday, a friend sent me an article combating that Time Magazine "Are You Mom Enough?" cover with the notion that none of us is "mom enough," but God is "God enough." Today, Facebook offered the following tidbit: Behind every great kid is a mom who's pretty sure she's screwing it up. The messages are good, but they identify a disturbing reality.

The Mommy Wars never really go away, do they?

It occurs to me that they don't go away because we mommies don't let them go away. We're holding on to the very insecurities that make The Mommy Wars so very successful. However many inspirational quotes we post to our Facebook pages, however staunchly we defend our parenting choices, however great our kids are turning out, however fulfilled our personal and professional lives are, the questions remains. Am I mom enough? Am I screwing it all up?

I'll be honest. I ask those questions myself, and I don't know how to make them go away. I think we need to fight back, though, and we're going to have to do it together.

Don't worry. I'm not going to ask you to compromise your beliefs about childbirth or infant feeding. I'm not going to ask you to stay at home with your kids or anything like that. At this point in the battle, I frankly don't care what you do. So keep doing whatever it is that you do.

But do these things, too - 

Notice a mother and praise her children. When you see a mother out in public with her kids, smile at her. Tell her her children are beautiful. She might need your gentle reminder of the truth she knows way deep down in her weary heart, even as her little hellions-apparent are darting in and out of the clothing racks at Target. I don't care if her kids are the ugliest, rowdiest, nastiest creatures you've ever seen. Really, I don't. Lie if you have to, and console yourself in the knowledge that your opinion aside, God has made all things beautiful - even snotty, unruly children. She might be, in fact, a crappy mom. But she might just as well be a great mom having a hard time keeping it all together while her children work off the effects of insufficient sleep, inadequate exercise, or excessive sugar. Your casual praise may change drastically her accounting of her maternal abilities, and thus the trajectory of her day. So praise her, praise her children... even if it feels like a stretch. You can afford to be nice. 

Tell your daughter she's going to be a great mommy. I know not every little girl is going to grow up to be a mommy, so I'm not suggesting you overdo the mommy thing to the extent that your sweet little girl grows up to think being a mommy is the ONLY thing in the world. Introduce, explore, and encourage a world of possibilities. But let her know that she has what it takes to be an awesome mom. She'll have enough doubts of her own, especially if these Mommy Wars continue. Make sure she knows there's at least one person - one person who knows full well what being a mommy takes - who has complete faith in her ability to care for a tiny human being. Show her how to do it, and praise her when you see her mimicking you with her baby dolls, her little brother, a child at the playground. Give her the courage not only to pursue with confidence her dreams of dentistry or dolphins, but her dream of being a mommy.

That's all I have for now, and I hope it didn't sound too combative or... or... or... whatever. It's just that it makes me a little mad to think that my generation of mothers might be remembered as one of constant comparison and self-doubt. I want better for us. More than that, I want better for our daughters. I want them to march into motherhood with complete confidence in their God-given skills, abilities, talents, and gifts. I want them to know without question, without nagging doubt, that whatever lifestyles they choose for themselves and their families, they are indeed Mom Enough.

One Word

The question was asked,

"In one word, what does the cross mean to the world today?"

I said nothing, in part because I was still suppressing laughter over irreverent fried chicken jokes, but more importantly, because I value words. If someone asks me to answer a question, especially one as significant as the one above, in just one word, that one word had better convey everything I need it to communicate. I won't be shouting out the first thing that comes to mind because I know it won't be sufficient. I'll keep my mouth shut, probably look like I'm apathetic or a million miles away or just plain rude.

But I don't ignore the challenge. Now that I've had a few hours to mull it over, I think I have my word.

Redemption.

Not love or sacrifice or peace or reconciliation or even salvation, though those are all a part of it.

Surely Christ loved us. Surely he sacrificed himself for us. Surely we have peace with God through Jesus Christ. But somehow these words don't go far enough for me, don't encompass the essence of the cross.

Redemption: the act or process of buying back. Repurchase.

Because from Eden till Calvary, from Calvary till now, and from now till Christ's return, God has been about the business of redemption, of purchasing back from Death all that was lost in the Fall. He has not just saved us, like one might save a man from drowning by throwing him a rope without cost to oneself. No, there was an exchange of currency in our salvation. God redeemed us, purchased us from Death with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. It was not free, not for Him.

Some might like the word reconciliation. We have, after all, been reconciled to God through Jesus Christ. I almost liked the word myself. And I do like it - in that it expresses our current state of relationship to God - but it fails to communicate the means by which our peace was attained. Reconciliation, as a word, conveys little more than a shaking of hands and a shrugging off of past differences. The cross was much more than man making nice with God or God making nice with man. It was God paying the high price of his only Son to free us from the darkness of Death and bring us - as a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God - into His Kingdom of Life.

So I'm back at redemption.

For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver and gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. (I Peter 1:18-20, italics added)

And in the words of the four living creatures and twenty-four elders in John's vision:

You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth. (Revelation 5:8-10, italics added)

Redemption.

That's what the cross means for our world today - as much as it did for the world 2,000 years ago and as much as it will for all the years to come.

Yoga Pants Day vs. Valentines Day

Yoga Pants Day or Valentines Day? 

You know which one wins around here, and I'm going to tell you why. I'll keep it simple, because my yoga pants and I have a lot to do today.

Why Yoga Pants Trump Valentines

1. Unlike roses, yoga pants don't wilt in a week. Yoga pants will make you smile for years.
2. Unlike chocolate, yoga pants don't make you fat. On the contrary, they make you feel svelte, athletic, like you might have actually done something to combat the chocolate you just ate.
3. Unlike a huge stuffed bear holding a heart, no one will bat an eye if sleep with your yoga pants. They're almost pajamas anyway.
4. Unlike jewelry, yoga pants offer excessive comfort. They're a lot cheaper, too.
5. Yoga pants, as hinted above, will wrap you in a layer of comfort all day long.
6. Yoga pants never say the wrong thing.
7. Yoga pants ask for nothing in return.
8. Unlike Valentines Day, which comes once a year, you can celebrate Yoga Pants Day as often as you wish.
9. Yoga pants are yoga pants. Your loved one doesn't have to worry, as he does on Valentines Day, that his gift for you isn't as nice as the bouquets, baskets, and bounties your friends have posted on Facebook.
10. If worn correctly, yoga pants contribute to marital bliss. Rather than building up expectation, only to disappoint, wearing yoga pants puts a woman in a state of blissful content. When her husband arrives home, she blesses him, whether he bears flowers or a scowl, with a joyous greeting rather than a critical eye.

As sure as my yoga pants are on my body, there are more reasons Yoga Pants Day surpasses Valentines Day, but as I said, my yoga pants and I have a full day ahead of us... Please, voice your support for yoga pants in the comments section!

The Official Pitch

In my last post, Pitch Perfect, I promised a little back cover blurb of the novel I'm trying to publish. This goes in the letter I send to literary agents, requesting representation. The idea, of course, is to so enthrall them that they must have more. As always, your comments are welcome!

Without further delay, I give you... THE OFFICIAL PITCH... with one character's name held back, out of little more than my desire to keep something secret. I hope you will indulge me in this.

The first lesson we teach our babes is, "Never approach a stranger without a ready weapon."

When Grit of Berth and Stone, a young woman on the brink of warriorhood, stepped off the well-worn path to aid a struggling woman, she broke the first rule of Threshan society. Cast out of her village, Grit vows never again to show weakness. Everything changes when she meets K, who dares her to accompany him to the Southern Realm.

"When you get around to deciding whether to accept or decline my offer," he says, "it all comes down to one question: Have you the courage to believe that I will help you and not harm you?"

In the courts of K's castle, Grit encounters a courage deeper than she had ever imagined existed, a courage she must claim for herself when K sends her back to the village she swore to forget. There, Grit must correct the errors of her past and prepare to face an ancient evil set on plunging every corner of Chasmaria into utter chaos.

The First Draft 

Pitch Perfect

As many of you know, I'm in the process of finding an agent for my YA Fantasy novel, a.k.a. "That Thing Lisa Won't Shut Up About."

 (Because I love you so much, I'm not even going to yell at you for ending a sentence with a preposition!)

Anyhow, this part of the process involves a lot of "pitching." Sometimes I get a letter and a few sample chapters in which to impress a literary agent, sometimes less. Whatever I get, I labor to make it as close to perfect as possible before sending to said agent. Then I sit back and wonder what I could have or should have done better.

With a Twitter Pitch Party on January 25, and Writer’s Digest’s Dear Lucky Agent Contest both fast approaching (and both of which may be worth looking into if you happen to have a manuscript ready to go), it’s time for me to put my 71,000 or so word novel into 140 characters. For the math nerds out there, if I’ve calculated correctly, that amounts to reducing my novel to four ten-thousandths its original length. I’m going to need some help here.

Please tell me which of the following lines would make you most likely to want to read more. Any constructive criticism – “combine this,” “that sounds dumb,” “what about…” –  is welcome! 

1. Cast out of her village, an aspiring warrior joins a stranger’s army, little knowing how much is at stake or how great her role will be.
2. By stranger betrayed and village shunned, young Grit, once a promising warrior, fights to trust the only one who can bring peace to her land.
3. In a stranger’s castle, a disillusioned warrior finds courage, hope, and a reason to fight for the village she swore to forget.
4. After building a new life in a stranger’s palace, a young warrior learns she must return home to fight for the village that scorned her.
5. Betrayed, shunned, and finally welcomed into a stranger’s palace, young warrior Grit finds courage, honor, and a reason to fight for the village she swore to forget.

Watch for a short “back cover blurb” to be posted later this week, giving more information about this project. For now, since this is all I get to tweet, it’s all you get to read. Please, please, please let me know if you find any of them particularly intriguing! I suppose you should let me know if they all stink, too, though I'm not nearly as eager for that sort of feedback.

Thanks, and best of luck to you if you decide to give either contest a go!

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