Thirty-Six and Counting

Whelp.  It's my birthday again.  I've fallen off the blogging wagon as of late, A-gain, but I feel a certain sense of obligation to post something on my birthday.

This birthday is a weird one for me.  We recently lost my husbands grandfather, well, we didn't lose him, as much as he peacefully passed from this life into the next.  Somehow my birthday falls in between his death and his funeral, so I guess you could say that my BIRTHday is a bit shrouded this year.

Isn't that how life works sometimes though?  With the constant ebb and flow of life and death, we are daily celebrating new life and lives well lived. 

On this, the day where we once again commemorate my Mother's strength and conviction to bring me into this world and her self-control and patience that prevented her from taking me out of it between the ages of 12 and 23, I want to share a bit about Andy, Rob's grandfather.  Given his influence on my husband, my children and me personally, it seems fitting.

I met Andy and Angie when I was 19 and really got to know them when I lived with them for about a month from May to June 1997.  Yes, I said lived.  You may be wondering if it was Rob and I that lived with them and the answer is no, it was just me.  I won't go into the back story that lead me, basically a stranger, to living in an RV parked in their driveway like a bum, but just know that I was kind of an idiot. 

Admittedly, Andy wasn't my blood grandfather and so many people are much more deeply connected to him, but he definitely didn't let on to that fact in the way  he treated me.  Now that I'm a bit more mature, I look back on how our relationship started and am in awe at the grace, integrity and love that were constant in his life.  I don't know that I would have let some odd looking girl with black hair and lip ring come live in my yard, even if she was my grandson's girlfriend.  I mean, how long is THAT relationship gonna last anyway?  Haha!

I am really sensing that this post could get pretty long and in an effort to make it easier for you to digest, here are my top 10 qualities or memories I loved about Tata (a cherished moniker that he gained when he became a great-grandfather).  Keep in mind that this is just the tip of an expansive ice berg of 87 years of a well lived life.

1.  Memory: Road trip to the Bay Area, just him and I, to make a delivery for Central Auto, his auto dismantling company.  It was on this trip that I learned that there is always room for a cheeseburger.  It was also on this trip that our bond began. 

2. Memory: Watching "Stories" with he and Angie each evening.  I think he really thought I might learn Spanish.  Sadly, I never did. 

3. Memory: How happy it made him that I craved his chile when I was pregnant with the boys.  He always made sure that I had a jar of my own to take home.  He also convinced me to try nopales, which, as it turns out, I love!

4. Memory: Watching my boys flock to him each time we arrived at their home.  He would always say "Now come here and give you Tata a kiss."  Anyone who loves my kids like he did is a giant in my book!

5. Memory: He would always, always, always try to teach me to load the dishwasher.  As much as I would try to shoo him out of the kitchen, the conversations were filled with a lot of "Thusly"s.  If you've had the benefit of spending more than 5 minutes with him, you know what I'm talking about.

6. Memory: The nicknames and words that he made up.  Often times we found out later that they were not totally fictional, but they were always awesome.  This trait has been passed on to my husband and will likely continue with my boys. 

7. Memory: The hammock.  I don't know why, but it always made my heart smile to see him relaxing in his hammock under the canopy of his redwoods and plum trees.  I imagine him in heaven relaxing in a hammock even now.

8. Quality: He was a family man.  He always put his family first. He was generous and loving and was always happy to see us.  He was patient with the kids even when they were rowdy or wouldn't eat their food.  He loved all of us unconditionally. 

9. Quality: He lived a life that was founded on integrity.  He was a business man, a veteran, a friend, a husband, a father, a (great)grandfather and many, many other things and he did all of these things as a man of integrity.  He said what he meant and meant what he said. 

10. Quality: He loved life!!  He was funny, he was hospitable, he loved food and was an excellent cook, he was always going and doing and traveling.  He loved mechanical dancing and singing animals and figurines.  He LOVED to make them perform for the kids and they loved it too!  He always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face.  I literally don't think I can conjure a picture in my mind of him not smiling. 

Andy Gonzales may not have been my grandfather from birth, but he has been my grandfather for the last 16 years and to say that I simply cared for him or liked him would be an incredible understatement.  He has always had my deepest respect and my love.

Yes, it  may be my birthday, but today I consider my life in light of a man who lived his so, so well.  It is my hope that my husband and I are able to live a life which one day leaves a legacy that is even remotely as powerful Andy and Angie. 

Andy, you will be missed each and every day.  We promise to give Nana an extra kiss for you every time we visit.

Why Little Things Should Matter

On Sunday morning, as I open my eyes and consider rolling over, pulling my comforter over my head and going back to sleep, two things will come to mind:  1) I should have written the KIC (Kids in Celebration) teachers apology letters in advance for children I fully intend to drop off jacked up on at LEAST 3 different forms of sugar, and 2) how the Easter baskets left out on the floor of our living room are pretty laughable in light of the holiday they are intended to celebrate.

Photo by: Grant Cochrane

In an effort to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, my children will stumble, eyes half closed to my living room only to find a basket with some marshmallow chicks, a chocolate bunny filled with peanut butter, jelly beans in bags made to look like a carrot and a DVD I picked up off of the sales rack at Target.  In light of what the Mary's discovered at the tomb on the very first Easter morning, an angel just kickin' it, waiting to tell them the greatest news of ALL time, perhaps an empty basket would be more apropos?  On second thought, no, because that empty tomb held so much!  It held promises simultaneously made and fulfilled; victory complete and only just begun; that seemingly empty tomb held the salvation of all, whether accepted or refused.

I guess marshmallow chicks pale in comparison.  Though delicious, a chocolate bunny wrapped in gold colored foil, doesn't quite get it done, even if it is wearing an ascot and smoking jacket.  At least at Christmas we can explain the presents by declaring it's Christ's birthday.

Look, I don't really mind providing my kids with the socially expected Easter baskets, I don't.  But does it end with the bunny?  Does it end with dressing them up in their Easter best and packing them off to church so enthusiastic teachers can explain the miracle of Easter and give them color sheets?  Does it end with a nice ham dinner at the folks?  Does it end? 

I've recently considered this idea of dreaming BIG because my God is BIG.  What Jesus accomplished on the cross was BIG.  Victory over death is BIG, the purification of sin is BIG, putting hell in it's place is BIG, but where do my dreams fit in?  Does the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ end at 11:59pm Sunday night?  To me it's all connected.

I'd like to think that one day, one of my primary skills used by God would be writing.  I like it.  It's part of my BIG dream.  Would it be cool if I wrote a book and it was published?  Yep.  Would it be cool if that somehow became my primary source of income?  Yep.  Would it be cool if all of that happened on a grand scale?  I don't know.  COULD God include my dream in His plans?  Yes.  But does any of that have anything to do with my purpose in this life?

I don't think so. 

John 13:12-17

¹² When He had finished washing their feet, He put on His clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” He asked them. ¹³ “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. ¹⁴ Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. ¹⁵ I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. ¹⁶ Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. ¹⁷ Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them."

Aside from establishing taking communion, doing a final rundown on important teachings that the disciples (us too!) would need for their ministry work and praying... lots of praying, He established an example of service to others, and His example was HUGE, but is actions were small.  It was Jesus, He had the authority to have them immediately cleansed from head to toe and clothed in sparkling white robes, He could have pulled a full-on Oprah's favorite things on them.  But He didn't.  He stripped down, got on His knees and washed their feet.  He washed their filthy, mud encrusted feet.  It was small, but it was so BIG. 

Then He said, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."  Jesus always let by example.  So, it brings me back to my thoughts on dreaming BIG.  How do I define BIG?  Jesus defined big differently than our society.  Granted His entourage was BIG, but that's where the similarities end.  He performed singular, small, sacrificial acts that spoke volumes, that impacted all of eternity.  Sure, people's sins were forgiven, the dead were raised up, blind eyes and deaf ears were opened, feeble legs strengthened, demons driven out, but all done with a heart of service and in peace.  He didn't strive to do any of it.  He walked the path set in front of Him, He spoke the words given to Him, He performed the seemingly silly acts that He was given, He spent every moment saying "Yes." to the Father.   

His sacrifice on the cross was HUGE, but it was one step in front of the other on the road to Golgotha.  It was remaining silent in the face of His critics and condemners.  It was choosing to submit to God's perfect plan despite the cost to Him.  Even in the moment where the physical pain was excruciating as He hung on the cross, His earthly ministry spoke volumes and He considered the thieves surrounding Him.

Hebrews 12:1-3

¹ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³ Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.    

Even to the very end as He saw in faith the gates of hell thrown open, the veil torn, graves being tossed open, the Holy Spirit descending in the upper room, thousands being saved in a singled day, Stephen being stoned, Paul getting knocked on his hindquarters, every person that has been saved since that day and until the very end of time. 

His joy was not found in the end of His pain, but rather the salvation of people He loves so dearly.  I am convinced that if remaining on that cross, in that horrible pain would have saved even one more, He would have done so.

So, as we enter this most Holy and fun of weekends, please take a moment to make sure that your BIG dreams are not overshadowing the small tasks of service God has given you.  After you've colored your eggs and filled your baskets, be generous.  Be gracious.  Be forgiving.  Be loving.  Then let your BIG God come in and do what you cannot, heal the hurting, mend the broken, and save the lost.

Dream BIG with God's heart and let your small actions speak loud! 

Happy Easter!  Don't wait until Sunday to thank Him for all that He has done!        

Balentime's Day Special

I'm a self-admitted dis'er of all things Valentine's Day.  It's not that I don't like the concept of "love" or that I'm a bitter old cat lady or a man hater.  I just think that Valentine's Day is the perfect picture of how our society is so broken (in addition to the commercial celebration of Christmas and Easter, for that matter).  I would celebrate it happily if Valentine's Day created an opportunity to actually love someone sacrificially.  Instead it's a mandate for waste.  We buy flowers, jewelry, candy, stuffed animals, cookies, cards and the bevy of other Valentine's Day marketed products that we can't afford, don't need and send in bulk.  I myself fall prey to the holiday, buying boxes of Valentine's Day cards for my sons to address and hand out, only to receive a bag full of other cards from their classmates.  Sure, it's a great return on investment for the kids, but think about the herd of parents being shepherded to the "holiday" aisle in their local Target so our kids can all give each other thoughltess cartoon character cards that will be placed in the circular file of life, never to be thought of again.

Photo by Vichie81

We are training our children to be thoughtless.  I am training my children to be thoughtless and wasteful.  Take the socially accepted caricature of Valentines Day, add to it the socially accepted caricature of marriage and it doesn't take a rocket surgeon to figure out why we have such a high divorce rate. 

I know what Love is.  It's a sacrifice and not just a minimal financial one.  It's a choice to be gracious every day.  It's a verb, not some fleeting concept that is synonymous with my hormone levels and emotions.  Love is more thoughtful and more beautiful than a fist full of roses grown and harvested by someone other than yourself for just this occasion.  Love is sweeter than a box full of chocolate squares.

It's unique and special and Valentine's Day, as we celebrate it, has turned it into a product that can be uniformly manufactured on a mass scale and distributed to anyone with a buck in their pocket, but in reality if you want to really show someone you love them, $1 will just not do. 

I believe in Love, I celebrate Love, I express Love, I accept Love, I share Love - and I do all of this all year round. 

If Jesus is the picture of Love, which He is, then how can anyone accept this fake representation of something that is so sacred.

I leave you with this: "Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends."  John 15:13

Today and every day so many single, divorced, abandoned, lonely, hurting and bereaved people will drive home and wish they were loved because the great mistress of Valentine's Day says they are not.  Jesus says that they are and not just that they are loved, but they are loved more than anyone.

You see, I'm not hating on Valentine's Day or anyone that celebrates it, heck, I even wore a dress with pink polka dots on it today.  I cherish love.  But to me, love becomes a prostitute every February 14th and that makes me sad.       

My Favorite Thing I Did This Past Christmas Season

Shortly before Thanksgiving, I had a "lightbulb" moment.  I decided that I wanted to do something to mark the arrival of Christmas that was more significant than our annual, milk chocolate-filled advent calendars with the kids.  Being that my husband and I are both people that love to fill our house with friends and loved ones and then feed them, weekly Advent dinners seemed to be the answer.

Photo by Vudhikrai

For those of you unfamiliar with advent, I found the following term definition "The liturgical period preceding Christmas, beginning in Western churches on the fourth Sunday before Christmas and in Eastern churches in mid-November, and observed by many Christians as a season of prayer, fasting, and penitence."  Granted, we didn't fast, in fact, we kind of did the opposite, however, we did do some reflecting during the gathering and we also prayed.  Well, I prayed one of my lengthy, "when-will-this-chick-stop-talking-so-we-can-eat" prayers, but it was good nonetheless.

The other primary difference would be that we gathered on the three Thursdays before Christmas instead of the four Sundays, simply out of convenience.  A convenience that turned out to be a little less convenient than I had imagined, by the way.

I must admit, it was a bit more stressful than I had envisioned.  First off, on the day of the very first dinner we hosted, our power was out from 8:05 a.m. until 5:15 p.m., which made food preparations a bit of a mad dash to the finish line.  Secondly, I work on Thursdays.  It's a little tricky to get home to finish the final bits of tidying and prepare my food contribution prior to the arrival of the first guest at 6:30 p.m.  Fortunately, as stress prone as I am, my husband was always there relaxed and had most everything done before I even arrived home.  There was always something that I would freak out about though, like hand prints on the door jambs of the bathroom or the disaster that is my sons bedroom... Oh! the boys bedroom always got me!  But, it always worked out.  Every time.

In fact, once people arrived, it was always an amazing time.  My house was bustling with kids and conversation.  It felt like home should feel like during the holidays.  Then as we prepared to all sit down at one big table (kids were relegated to the "kid table"), I would read aloud the weekly Billy Graham Advent meditation in my typical pseudo-self-effacing, goofy manner with which I approach speak in front of people.  It was always something that had the potential of cutting deep like "Are you following the plan of God in your life?" or "Are you spreading the Gospel of Christ with those that need it most this Christmas season?"  It was a brief introspective moment in an otherwise fun and raucous night.  Then I would pray, as previously mentioned. 

Once everyone had their food, the adults would gather to eat at one table.  One really long table.  It was great!  A usual Harwood gathering would include buffet style serving and people sitting in small groups where seating could be found.  Not this time!  We crammed in around one table and I loved every minute of it.  To be able to see everyones faces at the same time.  Sure, you could only really hear the people in your immediate vicinity, but to share a glance or a smile with everyone throughout the night was priceless.

We of course had desserts, yes, plural.  It was kind of a different crowd each week and even the repeat visitors didn't want to bring the same thing week after week, so our menu was a little different every time.  Even now, I can't pick my favorite night in the arena of food or company! 

I just hope that those that attended our dinners enjoyed themselves and left filled with the warmth that can be gained only by sharing a meal with those you love.  I also hope that each person that sat at our table had some time to consider Jesus; His birth, His life, His death and all that He means to each one of us. 

I cannot wait until next year!   

Holiday Traditions

I love traditions. 

Photo By Naito8 

I'm not super sentimental about material things, but holidays traditions are a different story.  Which can be good and bad.  The upside is that I love the holidays and want to make them special for my own family.  The downside is that as a result of my love for holiday traditions, when things are not "just so", I can get all out of whack and my enjoyment levels plummet.   

The other day as I was sitting and folding laundry, considering where we might put the Christmas tree, my mind wandered to how much I loved Christmas when I was a kid.  I know, most people feel that way.  It wasn't just all of the presents, though presents are fun.  It was the way my Grandmother's house smelled, the guarantee of my favorite cookies, the laughter that filled the room for the whole night, moments of real connections with family members interspersed throughout the entire visit; it was the love.  Sure, the anticipation of Christmas Eve gifts following dinner, dessert and cleaning the kitchen wasn't too bad either.

I'm not sure if my Grandmother planned it out this way to delay the gratification of gift opening as long as possible, but on Christmas Even not only do we have to look at all of the sumptuous presents before and during dinner, people have to finish eating, snack on some dessert and then, are you ready for this?  I don't think you're ready for this.  The kids have to clean the kitchen, infants and toddlers excused.  In order to get to the present portion of the evening, the kitchen has to be cleaned by less than skilled hands at an achingly slow pace.  I remember eagerly waiting by my uncle and aunt's chairs, staring at their bowls, wondering if they were quite through, praying that they wouldn't ask for another helping.  Now, as an adult, I partake in the slow eating and the smirky smiles as I loudly contemplate the possibility of another bowl of soup. 

Christmas Eve at the Warren's home is likely different than yours.  Aside from tormenting the kids with slow dinners and piles of dishes, we do not eat ham or turkey or roast.  We eat soup and these delightfully artery-clogging, toasted cheesy english muffin thing-a-majigs.  You have the option of clam chowder or minestrone, that's it.  We have tasty eggnog... with or without a pick me up and persimmon cookies and pecan puffs, both of which are incredibly addictive and are not portioned out like it was World War II.

Back to the poor kiddies.  Ok, so once the table is clear, dishes washed, dried and put away, everyone gathers in the living room.  Imagine a beautifully decorated Christmas tree woven with red ribbon and sprinkled with snow, set just over a train set and surrounded by a sea of gifts, leaving little room for people to sit or stand, for that matter.  You would think that after all of that, we would dig right into present opening.  Nope. 

My grandmother has collected a nativity scene, made up of hand carved olive wood figurines purchased in Israel over the years.  Each person is assigned a figure, from baby Jesus to the shepherds, wise men, Mary, Joseph and even the sheep and other animals (camel included).  As the kids sit anxiously, again, surrounded by a sea of gifts with their names on them, we read aloud a pieced together version of the birth of Christ.  Now, this, however torturous for the kids, I think is the best part.  As the story is told, people bring up their figurines and place them in the Nativity Creche.  It's interactive, complete and poignant. 

Though, we acknowledge the importance of family at Christmas and participate in the tradition of gift giving, we absolutely do not forget to focus on who brought us together.  Jesus.

It saddens me that I will not be able to be there this year, but know that the evening will transpire just as described above.  Next year, when we are able to go, I look forward to being able to participate in this family tradition once again. 

Though I LOVE Christmas Eve at my Grandmother's, I look forward to creating our own family traditions and weaving in elements from the traditions I grew up with.  This year we decided to have Advent dinners with friends.  We weren't able to swing the four Sunday nights leading up to Christmas, but we just had our first of three Thursday nights.  We enjoyed our time with friends and took some time out to focus on the person who brought us together.  Jesus.  I can't wait for next week.

What are some of your Christmas traditions?  Do you love them or are you a person that likes to change it up?