I wish I could hug her this Mother‘s Day.

She bathed and dressed and diapered and trained 10 babies.

She patched and laundered and altered.

The sweated behind ornery old tillers and spanked the dogs for sitting in her flowerbeds.

She could make the best soup from the stuff she brought in from the garden in her apron.

She polished and scrubbed and painted and sorted and organized.

She fed strangers at her big table and always found something to say when the conversation lagged.

She braved long trips in undependable vehicles,

Told us we could do better next time when our report cards were bad,

Made things cozy and beautiful with next to nothing,

Darned socks on winter evenings,

Gave us “the look” when we deserved it,

Dug dandelions for spring salads,

Sang funny songs from her childhood

And had time to enjoy good books.

Home was the best place to be.  It was warm and clean, the food was good, you were treated without prejudice, and always there was interesting things to talk about.

She valued honesty, mercy, justice, and kindness.



She's one of the strongest, most resourceful people I know. 

And while she would be unimpressed with her picture being online,

I know she loves me anyway.

I am so blessed.  Thanks, Mom--from the heart.



From goodreads when I googled Quotes About Being Yourself:

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”
―Oscar Wilde

“Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.”
―Bernard M. Baruch

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

“About all you can do in life is be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won't like you at all.”
-Rita Mae Brown“

"...be yourself- not your idea of what you think somebody else's idea of yourself should be.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“Never be bullied into silence.  Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life, but define yourself.”
―Harvey Fierstein

“Don't you ever let a soul in the world tell you that you can't be exactly who you are.”
―Lady Gaga

“Make the most of yourself....for that is all there is of you.”
―Ralph Waldo Emerson

There is all of this much and so much more. 

Some of these quotes really mess with my mind.   There’s good in a lot of them.  But frankly, I get tired of them.  Because of this:  If  people knew who the real me can be sometimes they wouldn't be telling me to be myself.  And because if we all just lived the real us and got  rid of the negative people in our lives and surrounded ourselves with positive people who believe in us and inspire us, how would our rough edges get sanded down?  How would we grow and change? Where did denying ourselves and following Jesus go?

Somewhere in all of this there is a balance between making a god of yourself and being content with who you are.

There's a balance between understanding and accepting ourselves and being constantly transformed into the image of His dear Son.

What is the real me like?

She likes people and new places and salads and pecan pie.  She cries easily and doesn’t laugh enough.  She thinks too much and talks too much.  She procrastinates and is easily angered.  She has a kind heart but sometimes her words are sarcastic.  She can be moody and  pessimistic.  She is overly sensitive to criticism but knows well how to give it.  She loves peace but can’t stay away from a  good argument.  She is far too governed by what she thinks others might be thinking of her. She is an oxymoron, that one. Just like you  are sometimes.

If it weren’t for my age, denomination, position in the church , and some of my readers, this blog would include a slot for Mennonite fashion.  I know.  Laugh away.  (And Dan is unimpressed with my scarf fetish anyway. And yes I know this outfit is too colorless.) 





Sometimes I really want to write things like:  I know a new bedspread would probably spice up our s*x life.  But honestly.  I don’t know if I can stand it any hotter. 

Sometimes in church when the song gets long and draggy I want to stand up and clap or sway or anything to change the mood.  In my mind I rearrange things all the time to keep them new and interesting in a church service.  (But here at home I can let things get pretty blah.)

I can get tied up in knots about some of our good-but-not-the-only-way Mennonite traditions and feel like I MUST change something or shrivel up and die.  (Okay. I don’t think that really makes sense.  But I’m leaving it alone because I don’t know how to say it differently.)

And sometimes when there are boring (to me) conversations going all around me I have to bite my tongue so I don’t say something shocking just to change the subject.

Those are some of the things that make up the real me.  They’re examples of things that are neither here nor there to many of you.  But if they make my mom ashamed of me or cause a stir or embarrass my wonderful but kind of traditional husband, I need to be careful where I flaunt these bits of me. 

This week I read this verse:  “If what I eat is going to make another Christian sin, I will never eat meat again as long as I live-for I don’t want to make another Christian stumble.”  Really Paul, did you  mean that??

And how does it apply to me today?

I don’t have the answers to this quandary.  But there are so many Biblical principles to add to the “just be yourself” attitude.  Like love and humility and  the preciousness of others.

And I’m not sure this post has a major point.

Just Being You is so very important.

But it’s also highly overrated.  Because if I was just myself

-I would sit at the computer instead of playing Frisbee with my 9 year old. 

-I would shrug and say, “That’s just the way I’m made” when Dan tells me that I was too sarcastic with the children.

-I would miss the good in that sermon I dismissed  as cliché and traditional.

-I would be a strong feminist.

-I would talk too much and listen too little.

And you really don’t want to know the rest.

I never want this to be my life philosophy:

“If you end up with a boring miserable life because you listened to your mom, your dad, your teacher, your priest, or some guy on television telling you how to do your ****, then you deserve it.” ―

Frank Zappa

Be the amazing and unique being that God called YoU. 

But learn of Jesus and conform to His ways to become even more beautiful.  Become gracious.  Honour others instead of yourself.

And the real me?  Here she is on Saturday morning mixing pancakes.  Canadian pajamas from Zellers closing out sales.  They're cute, but there's not much of them showing.  Pink housecoat:  Walmart.  Old shirt from Salvation Army.  It needs to retire, but it’s my favorite morning bit of warmth.  It works to wear it with its elbows worn out.



This photo deserves the ugliest profile prize.  Dear Dad, why did you pass your nose on to me?

Dear God, is my hair actually that thin & gray?

Dear morning sun, you show up all the flaws.

And the real me?  She’s very, very messy when she cooks.  But the Spirit-guided side of her cleans up after herself.

Not endorsing Miss Marilyn here, but I kind of like this:

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”

―Marilyn Monroe

“Oh, never mind the fashion. When one has a style of one's own, it is always 20 times better.”

―Margaret Oliphant

“You are you. Now, isn't that pleasant?”

―Dr. Seuss

“Amid a world of noisy, shallow actors it is noble to stand aside and say, 'I will simply be.”

―Henry David Thoreau

And the simplicity of Romans 12:16 (NLT):  “Live in harmony with each other.  Don’t try to act important (just be yourself), but enjoy the company of ordinary people.  And don’t think you know it all!”    Amen. 

I know.  That blogging fast was extremely short-lived. 

I read a bunch of my old posts on xanga last night and was appalled at how often the subject of my reasons for blogging and my doubt at why I do and guilt for the time it takes and the what-is-my-purpose thing comes up.  How DO you guys put up with me?

I guess it is the battle between the lady I long to be and the woman I am.  Between the honest lady who writes exactly what she's thinking at the moment on a rainy day and the wise one who takes time to think and pray and polish before she says or does things or writes things. Between the person who uses discipline and knows when to turn off the computer to tend to the real needs of life (like children, and rest, and God) and the one who reads too far and too much and obsesses over the bad news and compares herself to all the good things in others and gets herself into a hole of weariness.

But please let me make a commitment now to blog when I have something to say and be quiet when I don't.  And let me be still about the questioning and comparing and everything else.  Hold me to it.

There are 20 pairs of jeans in the wash today.  Days of rain and being a little behind on the laundry makes that happen fast.  It is at this time of year that I am ready to pack up the family and move to the heart of the city.  The mud is beyond description.

A house FULL of toys at her disposal, she is beyond  delighted when I make her these babies in a basket with the hankies Grandma Martin buys from those Mennonite stores in Indiana.   She rocks and sings to them.

There could be some ugly photos of swollen little heels and pimply hands to show you what's going on at our house.  But who likes pictures of ugly stuff? I will be wildly happy when everyone is better again. 

One of the things I'll miss most about my children growing up is hearing mispronounced words.  One of the little guys I'm babysitting today says "bringtending" for pretending and "kickup" for pickup.  A little sprinkling of children went out to play in the mud this morning.  Funny little urchins with muddy spring jackets, dirty mittens, splash pants, and the signature gumboots of Alberta.  Aptly named for the mud here.

I am thankful today for an automatic washer. 

Cute calves coming every day. 

Dan. 

Tylenol. 

New little broccoli plants.

Sunshine.

New starts.

Friends.

Good books.  (currently reading Slaying the Giant.  It's good.)

Hope of green grass, picnics, and petunias.

The God who loves me as I am, but far too much to let me stay that way.

Weekends.

Being jolted out of my small and skewed look at life when I read the news, think of others with bigger needs, or suddenly look around and see my thousands of gifts.

And only about 21 more days of lunches to pack.  Yee-haw!

Happy Friday!  Lentil soup is on the menu for this evening.  I love to make it, the children and Dan love it, and best of all, it's very healthy.