Things that make me cranky

waking up in the morning-caffeine jitters-overcast days-andrew waking from his nap-the dining room table being cluttered-herman not smiling at me when he comes home from work-tansy and becket fighting-socks that make my feet hot-chapped lips-wasps in my garden-dandelions in my grass-loud neighbors-having to wear my "big" underwear when my good ones are in the laundry-jeans that are too tight-my bra strap constantly falling down-being too tired to get up and move-becket and tansy having very messy rooms.

Things that make me smile

Laying in my hammock in filtered sunlight. Underneath the blooming lilac tree. A sweet yet spicy scent fills the air as I sip my ice tea. My book I'm reading sits on the make shift side table ready for me to open should I choose.

Standing at the sink washing dishes while a 2 year old runs up and grabs my legs to hug me and truly hugs me as tight as his little arms will allow. It's a hug filled with love, not a petition for something greater. Hearing him sing his bunny to sleep while he rocks him. His sweet little voice saying "Nighty night" as I am stepping out of his room quietly.

Sitting outside waiting for Herman to come home from work. Him going in to change his clothes and coming back outside to sit with me. Early in the mornings when he is heading off to work, he quietly whispers good by and "I love you", I barely open my ears to see him exiting our bedroom wearing his uniform-shirt tucked in just like I like it.

Becket (8) looking vulnerable with his wacky hair that needs cutting, his skinny little body and his dry sense of humor.

Tansy nurturing her littlest brother and holding my hand when I'm feeling bad. Her cleaning the livingroom as a surprise for me just because and buying a t-shirt that says, "Mommy's girl" and being proud to wear it.

Climbing into my big bed during day light savings and the sun is still up. My window being open with curtains pulled back all night. Hearing the frogs singing in the evening and in the middle of the night being awakened by an owl.

The sun streaming in the livingroom windows first thing in the morning, helping to fend off the grogginess of waking up.

Getting a six pack of "hard lemonade" and a large bottle of ibuprophen for Mothers Day.

Pentecost

I love Pentecost! It fills me with such hope and joy. As a former Episcopalian we used to celebrate Pentecost by wearing red and handing out fire ball candies to symbolize the "tongues of fire" seen in the upper room. We made light of it and I am now ashamed. Pentecost is the time after Christ rose from the dead. He told his disciples He wouldn't leave them alone, He would send the Comforter-The Holy Spirit to guide them. I imagine being there and first experiencing this man whom I love and worship (Jesus) being beaten, tortured and crucified. The hopelessness I would have felt would have been awful. Then seeing Him alive after He had been buried, then knowing He would be leaving me again. What a rollercoaster for the apostles it must have been. Their task was to go out into the world and preach the good news and spread the Gospel. But how would they have the energy and enthusiasm when their "leader" was gone. Thus God sent His Holy Spirit to them. They were all together in one room and the Holy Spirit descended in the visible form of "tongues of fire" above their heads. All started speaking in their native languages but all was understood. Foreigners were able to understand the language of others as if they were hearing it in their own tongue. How awesome this event must have been! Their trepidation and unease must have been replaced by joy and hope and enthusiasm. After Pascha (Easter) I often feel let down, sort of left on my own to work out my salvation. But then I remember that Pentecost is coming and I am again filled with hope. Hope in the sense that I know I'm not alone, God hasn't abandoned me, He hasn't left me to fend for myself here on Earth. He has sent His Holy Spirit to walk the journey with me.
So here we are in the midst of saying, "Christ is Risen!" and replying "Truly He has Risen!" but that isn't the end of the story, for man. For man continues to walk, fast, pray and hope. He has sent His Holy Spirit and Pentecost is the celebration of that event. I won't be wearing red or eating fireballs (Orthodoxy uses green, not red as the protestant church uses)I won't be treating the feast lightly as I did before, I will anticipate it with excitement, joy and reverence.

Life and Death

Does anyone remember the movie/book Sophies Choice ? It was about a mother who had to make a choice between her two children. She had to choose which child would be executed. I never saw the movie, but knew the plot. I could never bring myself to watch or read it. I had children at the time and I thought often about the choice I would make. Should I let Tansy live, she's older and is so bright, yet Becket is so kind and loving. I agonized over this idea and the movie. This was several years ago.
I now have three children. Tansy 10, Becket 8 and Andrew 2. What would be my choice now? Now the choice wouldn't be who would I choose to live, but who would I let die. As an Orthodox Christian-death is not the end all. It's the icing on the cake. What is it to die? Should God find me worthy enough I will be in Paradise with Him and the beloved Saints I have read about. I will worship him without distractions. I will know pure joy and love without sorrow. I won't experience anxiety and pain and indecision. How could I possibly choose life over death. So for me, my "Sophies Choice" would be a heart wrenching decision as to who would I allow to die an earthly death to join Jesus in Paradise. I no longer fear death, I am jealous of it. If only I knew though,that my motives were pure. If my desire to die was fueled by my great love for God and not because life feels icky at times. I hope that I am not just looking for the easy answer-because give me a little pain and hear me cry like a big ole baby. My 8 year old is afraid of dying, because it might hurt he says. I want my children to embrace death and see it as the goal of our life and not the end. Will I cry though when someone I love dies? I will for various reasons. My children dying will bring me a sweet sadness. My husband dying would leave a bitter taste in my mouth. My priest dying would produce a strong sense of panic. And still with others I love I would feel an injustice. How could I feel all these different emotions for the same cause-death. I would be a much better mother in Heaven then here on Earth, my children would be exactly in the most perfect place for them, my husband would be a great intercessor for me though I would feel left alone to face the world. My priest is my spiritual father and I would feel lost without him. So here is the struggle. Do I trust God enough to allow death to touch me, or will I fight for control of life when the time comes. I have told Herman in the past that should I develop cancer some day I will not opt for treatment, but if he were to develop cancer he better believe that he's getting treatment so he can stay here with me. He didn't think this was too fair of a deal. So goes the struggle to let go of the control and to fully trust in God and His mercy. Should I live a long life I will have had more time to repent, should I die young, then may it be blessed.