Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

fractals again, joy beyond imagination, and LOVE

Just six weeks into the new year and already so much has changed. Stuff on every front. Amazing.

Life can serve up shock and grief, deep despair, in a moment; and it can transform for the better just as suddenly.

Or maybe none of these changes are as sudden as we think. Maybe we just finally see things a certain way, all at once.

I have been watching piecemeal a three-part Netflix series called “The Code,” just in twenty or thirty minutes bursts while ironing, organizing the Apartment, etcetera. It’s all about mathematical and borderline mystical patterns in the Universe. Mostly what perks up my ears is the talk of shape-patterns in nature. One episode explores fractals in a way I had never heard before. It explains how this expansive, repeating design builds the most complex systems and finished objects we take for granted. A branch grows until it stops to sprout a new network of twigs, then each of those twigs does the same, over and over again. Trees, coral, even blood vessels. Mountain ranges, roots systems, so much. And the program features human applications, too. Like the celebrated 20th-century painter Jackson Pollock (his art was not so random after all) as well as the man who cracked the fractal code and changed animation technology forever (Pixar).

I can’t help but apply this “shape” to human relationships. Social and family patterns. Addictions. Just all aspects of culture that we learn and pass on. Exponentially.

Okay.

Remember when fractals were the thing to discuss back after reading The Shack for the first time? The Holy Spirit character was a female gardener who laid out these spacious, dense, repeating, confusing, soothing, perfect gardens. They felt messy up close, chaotic, formless. But stepping back and seeing the patterns revealed all the grand design. A gentle swirl, concentric rings of growth and beauty. Those gardens are each of our lives or souls, depending on how you apply the metaphor.

It’s just so comforting.

Remember?

That is a book worth reading twice.

Right now I am reading for the second time A Return to Love and just devoured half a chapter all about the Holy Spirit. It presses me gently to remember all the ways God has revealed beauty in chaos. That sweet, still voice He has, the peace that passes understanding He offers. His whispers about using my imagination for good and being okay with the meandering.

These words really jumped off the page:

The Holy Spirit is a bridge back to gentle thoughts, the great transformer of perception. The Comforter.

However life changes year to year, day to day, I am so grateful that God’s voice never does. So thankful that He remains gentle and steady. Just pure, powerful LOVE. 

We are witnessing miracles, no doubt about it.

Miracles at work, on every side of my husband. I am so proud of him and his contributions to Oklahoma and the utility industries. I am so thankful for everything he leads his team to do. So humbled by how far God will go to protect and bolster every effort. 

Miracles in my family. I cannot wait for you to hear more about my sister Angela and read what she has learned about Love and Fear. She has a big week coming up and I am so happy to be part of that with her and her girls! I’ll post more on that, maybe on IG. 

Miracles here at the farm, stuff as small and routine as noticing an early spring to the mammoth joy of sensing the fruition of why we built all of this in the first place. Purpose fulfilled is a thrilling miracle.

Miracles with our children and their wide-reaching family. The past few weeks have shocked us with a kind of peace and joy that most people would not have guessed was possible. But here we are, relaxed and bonded and moving forward into new life chapters.

Miracles for Jessica specifically. She is seeing the fruits of her labors, and I can’t get enough of how beautiful she is clothed in joy.

Miracles for Jocelyn, perceived in some private maternal ways I can barely articulate, details that my friend Mickey would describe as “post-it notes from God.” I treasure every single one. 

Joc cutting me some wild sage, on the last day of my first trip to visit her in Colorado. Fractal upon fractal in this photo. Hope upon hope.

Today is bursting with special opportunities. First, we get to host brunch for Jess and her boyfriend and join in a fun memory in her life. Later I will bake some focaccia and we will spend the evening with a handful of other married couples, discussing God and relationships and eating great food. 

Lots of farm activity and romance in between it all. Never once ceasing in prayer for Jocelyn and other people weighing heavily on our hearts.

Then we will come home together again, safe and happy and secure in Love. This itself is a special opportunity. 

Every encounter, every circumstance can be used by Him for His purposes. He uses Love to create more Love, and He responds to fear as a call for Love.

What I want to stress to you, really, is that Love is working for us. Love is dissolving every fear that once terrified and paralyzed us. Love is burning away all the fog. Lighting up all the dark corners of this life. And because everything is revealing so beautifully, all the details are so constantly surprising us, the ongoing mystery is kind of fun. I find myself no longer fretting over the unknowns but rather breathing deeply, sometimes giggling, and thinking, “I wonder what God has in store for this!” 

“I want to know God’s thoughts.
The rest are details.”
~Albert Einstein
XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

six short stories on saturday night

#1: A few warm, sunny days this past week really got my heart going pitter-patter for springtime, however far away it might truly be. The hens are laying again, the honeybees have been buzzing around on fresh breezes, and my first seed order should arrive soon. I walk around the farm every day and still see lots of dry, sepia winter scenes, but in my mind’s eye, everything is verdant already and bursting with kaleidoscope color, vibrating with new life. As I type this paragraph we are bundled up in the warmest room of the house, debating the wisdom of hot coffee so close to sunset. Which is becoming later each day, I have to add. 

#2: Jessica spent the past few days with us at the farm, and she blended in so naturally. She has a way of making the gorgeous weather even more springlike. It felt like the old days, but better. On Friday she and I spent many hours together between the kitchen and the barn and the possibility-filled gardens, talking and laughing about everything old and new. She and Klaus became seriously good buddies. She and Handsome discussed car purchases and adult life. She and I (mostly she) produced a big batch of delicious soft pretzels plus a cozy family dinner of salmon cakes and all the good sides. We all watched a movie together and studied for her upcoming exam. This beautiful girl-now-a-woman has exciting plans and is brimming with all the best things about being twenty years old. We are just thrilled and grateful to be included in her life right now. Overnight, our weather turned frigid cold again, bringing us a grey and dull Saturday morning, but her presence in this house warmed it up. Her boyfriend joined us all for a late breakfast of waffles with all the trimmings, another meal which she made perfectly. We really enjoyed his company, too, and is there anything more fun than seeing your child in love? All of this beauty, and still bigger miracles are growing up around us. Things I will write about soon. 

Have you made these yet?

#3: I have for the second time cracked open A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson and am, well, in love with it all over again. Her preface gripped me this time as though she had written it, especially for Jocelyn. (Thank you for your continued prayers and the gentle stream of love notes, friends.) In a few weeks, I will join two wonderful girlfriends to listen to the author speak, a miniature book club reunion and really just time well spent with two stellar human beings, absorbing some magic together. 

When we were born, we were programmed perfectly. We had a natural tendency to focus on love. Our imaginations were creative and flourishing, and we knew how to use them. We were connected to a world much richer than the one we connect to now, a world full of enchantment and a sense of the miraculous.

#4: Have you winterized your salad bowl yet? If we cannot yet enjoy watermelon, let’s definitely feast on big, luxurious bowls of leafy greens topped with roasted vegetables and some protein. No dressing needed. Warm those bellies and keep them happy with complex carbs! This past week I met my sister Angela for lunch in a faraway place called “Oklahoma City, Northside” and we shamed ourselves at a magical salad bar. Have you heard of Salata? Oh man. 

#5: One of our local Hansons mentors posted this quote today, and it is perfect: “The genuine marathoner is a rare breed indeed, half athlete and half poet. Part rock-bottom pragmatist and part sky-high idealist. Completely, even defiantly individual and yet irrevocably joined to a select group almost tribal in its shared rituals and aspirations.” Fair warning, friends, if you check in here on Monday. I had a week of non-running and have lots to say. Many lessons to solidify!

#6: My husband’s new favorite dessert is kind of a surprise to me. It was a throw-together layered shortbread-and-ganache idea from a brownie mix I picked up at Aldi. Should I make it again for Valentine’s Day this week? Or should I make the very top secret thing I was already planning? Or should we have multiple desserts to finish off our traditional heart-shaped ribeye dinner? Like a small chocolate festival of our own? Okay, yes, that.

Stay cozy, friends! Read great books. Eat the best food you can find. Expect miracles and do not for one day give up hope. What if we did? Look what we would be missing already. And tomorrow hasn’t even happened yet.

“Never underestimate the power
that one good workout
will have on your mind.
Keeping the dream alive
is half the battle.”
~Kara Goucher
XOXOXOXO

 

a nightmare, a memory, and promises

I am never not thinking about her. Day and night, whether I am alone or with people, she is there in the periphery at least but more often right up front, an up-close but silent line drawing around every face I see, every activity, every thought.

And I don’t know how much I am allowed to talk about it because at this moment there is nothing we can do but pray.

It’s not all worry or grief. I just plain miss her. Her voice, her smile, her skin. I miss her sense of humor, her plans, the way she loves her dogs and the mountains, the photos of what she’s cooking (she is such a wonderful, creative cook!). I miss our conversations, both deep and silly.

I miss that cozy assurance that she is my daughter and I am her mother and that no matter what happened during those years apart, no matter what people said and did, no matter how much time passed, it was always so. And it will always be so. I miss that assurance a lot. I fight voices every day whispering that the last few years were a lie, that she didn’t love me or that we didn’t actually regain that intimacy. That I was blinded by desperation.

She does appear in my dreams still, but less often in that magical way I experienced during her first long absence. Lately, they are nightmares, although sometimes those can deliver a spark of hope too. 

Two nights ago I dreamed she was an infant and we were swimming together in dark purple water, barely lit from above by a single light source. It was a deep, narrow chute of water, like an underwater cave surrounded by nothing. She was drowning. Her tiny face angry and contorted, so blue it was almost black, silent but screaming, panicked for air, furious that she couldn’t breathe, terrified. I was below her. My legs were tied with corrugated pool hoses and wires, tied so tight I couldn’t kick. My arms were reaching out, my fingertips barely touching her. In that dream, I could feel her tiny, fleshy body bob against my hands. It was visceral. All I could do was just barely tap her through the water, toward the surface.

When she had an emergency appendectomy several years before all of this, her recovery was a miracle. Leading up to her discharge, she very much wanted to do everything the doctors told her to do, such as sit up on her own and learn again to twist out of bed. She was fighting both an infection from lack of antibiotics at the hospital and the normal abdomen pain from the gas they used to inflate her little belly for surgery. Moving on her own was important but uncomfortable, and it was difficult for me to not help her. One moment in particular as she was struggling to sit up, and I was struggling to watch her, she looked at me so sweetly and said, “Just a little nudge, Mama?” I rushed in and gave her the smallest nudge on her lower back and a little pressure on her upper arm, and she gripped me for balance. She twisted and sat up straight and stood up on her own. Gradually she walked and soon she felt so much better.

Just a little nudge, Mama?

In the dream, she was just a baby but she looked at me with those big brown China doll eyes and begged for help I couldn’t provide. Pleaded for it. Her face blue and her body slipping down into the dark water, her pale chubby legs kicking against the shadows.

Again I nudged her lightly, barely a tap, and the water floated her for a moment until she sank again. I cried out to God silently in my thoughts, “SAVE MY BABY, PLEASE COME GET HER, DON’T YOU SEE HER?? I CANNOT REACH HER, SHE IS SINKING!!”

Screamed it.

And He did. He reached down in that instant and pulled her swiftly to the surface, where she found air and warmth and sunlight just in time. I couldn’t see her anymore but I was relieved. I still felt could still feel the hoses around my legs and the thick, oily cold water all over my body, those details only dreams can make you feel.

She was gone but safe. And I woke up.

A little while after waking up I cried telling my husband about the dream, it was so terrifying. But saying it out loud I finally heard the promises:

  • God rescues when we are powerless.
  • He does see.
  • He does hear our silent screams.
  • He will show up just in time.
  • He loves her now just like when she was an infant, just like when she was a little girl in the hospital. Just like always. 

Please keep praying for her.

There is so much more I could say, about what we have learned regarding helping and enabling, or maybe the differences between protecting and teaching, I don’t know. I don’t anything really excpet I miss her and love her so much. And she is so much pain and danger, and I cannot help her. Cannot even give her a nudge right now.

So my days are filled with animals and housework, running and cooking dinner. Unprecedented miracles (how can I tell them?) and awful nightmares. She remains with me every second, an indelible line drawing. My first baby, my friend, and so much more I cannot even express.

Several of you have loved ones in similar peril. I want you to know that every day when I pray for her, I pray for your babies too, no matter how old they are. 

Several of you have reached out to privately share some of your own stories about overcoming, recovery, and straight up the miracle-working Love of God. I cannot thank you enough. It is all oxygen to us.

“And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?
Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea;
And there was a great calm.”
~Matthew 8:26
XOXOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm: some great internet finds

Hello, happy Friday! TGIF!! What a week it’s been here. It’s been one of those solid, smooth running, list-conquering weeks, fairly unremarkable but very satisfying, you know? And all the spaces in between have been happily filled with Love and prayer and strong running and great food. Also, we finally found a few comedies to watch, so hallelujah for that!

The “big stuff” in life, the traumas and temporarily unanswered questions, are either staying the same or being worked on by God in the unseen background, however you choose to see things. I think you know where I stand with that. He is so generous and steadfast, so faithful with His promises. Trusting Him is the only way, really, that we get any sleep. And it’s only by His assurances and grace that we can move through our daily lives while waiting for answers about our Girl.

Thank you, by the way, for your continued prayers and love notes.

.

 

Anyway. It’s Friday!! We have almost made it through another incredible work week, and before the weekend kicks up I thought I’d share a handful of internet treasures with you guys, Friday 5 style. Please feel free to send me links to excellent articles or ideas you’ve found, too! I love good brain and body and soul stuff. 

Sandy the Reluctant Entertainer shares gorgeous, approachable recipes all the time, and they always accompany some much-needed life advice. So I hope you follow her somewhere for your own sake. But this recipe for stuffed poblano peppers jumped out at me thanks to my current craving for hot and spicy food, and her story about family bonds and seizing the moment is well received. Also! Poblano pepper seeds are on my garden ordering list. It’s going to be a fun food growing year at the farm!

I found this article on marriage over at Ann Voskamp’s blog. It’s a guest post by Barbara Rainey, and it is beautiful. I hope you give it a few minutes of your day. Handsome and I are big believers in the small stuff. 

When the small stuff of marriage isn’t diligently attended to, then big-stuff crises provide plenty of reasons to quit an already muddy marriage. ~Barbara Rainey

Some Very Necessary Writing Quotes by Marisa Mohi. I am pretty crazy about Marisa for lots of reasons, not the least of which is her prolificity. How she manages to write thorough and engaging blog posts on top of a full-time job and the needs of a well attached Rosie Puppins is kind of amazing to me. I love her posts. This one is like a delicious appetizer menu for people who need to prime the writing pump. (Raises hand in shame…)

What Journaling Actually Does to Your Brain, at mindbodygreen. Yes. How lovely that a scientific study is provided. I recently revamped my pen-and-paper gratitude and journal practice and am loving it. Whether it has made me more altruistic, I don’t know; but I do feel calmer and more peaceful toward people and situations that normally wind me up pretty hard. If mindfulness and open-heartedness are feelings you crave in the new year, then journaling could be an excellent start.

Are you following Adriene? Are you doing her TRUE yoga series? It is, no surprise at all, luscious!! Luscious in every way. My body feels incredibly loose and strong, spacious, which makes running even more fun. And every day she offers these beautiful little pep talks that are just soothing. Each session has a theme word, and often they line right up with my private journal focus and Bible devotion for that day. Isn’t that cool? This daily yoga practice has really helped slow down the January rush. I feel like I am squeezing more good stuff, more nutrients, out of each day, and I plan to keep at it after this series ends. If you’re looking for some regular doses of yoga, consider this one. Start it anytime.

We tried this homemade bread recipe to make little scooped-out bread bowls for serving homemade broccoli-cheese soup. Handsome and I both loved it! It had an almost old sourdough flavor, was easy to make with basic pantry ingredients, and baked up very fragrantly. I love any recipe that makes the house feel cozy like that. The bread finishes crusty and hollow-sounding with a soft, fluffy middle, perfect for scooping out. (I twice-baked the scooped bits with olive oil for really great croutons.) We’ll keep this on our regular menu rotation, at least during the cool months.

Pacino and Klaus enduring our weird Thursday afternoon sense of humor.

Okay, that was a list of six, ha! Bonus points, ok, because that bread bowl recipe is not to be skipped. Make it and be happy!

Happiest of Fridays to you, friends! Feed yourselves well, nourish each other, do everything you can do, and then trust God. It’s going to be okay.

“How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live.”
~Henry David Thoreau
XOXOXOXO

post holiday thoughts gumbo

After so many days and weeks filled to bursting with activity, work, play, some bitter tears, and still more activity, my mind is swimming with loose trains of thought. Some things are solid. But those are solid enough to wait. The less solid thoughts need somewhere to go. I hope you’ll indulge me a while so I can sort of gather them into a boiling pot. Maybe if they comingle and simmer you add your own thoughts, we will end up with a gumbo of good stuff and the final product will be delicious.

Oprah’s Super Soul Sundays podcast has become my favorite. This is a surprise to me because I have never liked her, generally speaking. Just because the talk show thing has never been my thing. But this is different. This production offers tons of reliably good, nourishing material. One recently that I loved? An interview with former President Jimmy Carter. I loved hearing him talk about space in marriage, daily habits, and the Iran hostages. Weird combo maybe, but he ties it all together. Plus that well worn, gentlemanly southern drawl, ok? So nice.

Have you ever seen the acronym expression of EGO, meaning, “Edging God out?” Yikes.

I have for years thought that life is made worse by over-romanticizing relationships. Which is ironic, because the intention behind romancing stuff is to bring out the beauty, enhance it, press the details more deeply into our skin, right? Shouldn’t that improve life? But placing too much importance on certain relationships kind of sets us up for disappointment, that whole “appreciation trumps expectations” thing.

Maybe especially with parent-child bonds? because (as a better writer than me recently pointed out) claiming your child as yours is incredibly self-centered. Disturbingly ego-driven. And yet isn’t it’s part of our nature, the parenting paradigm? This is a lot of ground to cover, friends. Too much for today, but I welcome your thoughts.

I cannot get enough Christmas lights this year. And happily, our surrounding neighborhoods and parks have obliged. My husband did a great job festooning our own spot of paradise, too. It’s a modern luxury I won’t soon abandon.

I want to do a true study on the occurrence of eating disorders and body image issues among two groups: dancers and runners. I have noticed a disparity, but it’s so far anecdotal and I wonder if (as a runner) my opinion is slanted. Thoughts? Insight?

Made from scratch soft pretzels are incredibly easy and supremely delicious. Pillowy, warm, salty, chewy, satisfying. Amazing. Using this recipe, I am a homemade-soft-pretzel convert. No more waiting for that once a year $8 movie theater splurge! Of course, now I have to figure out the concession stand’s weird runny cheese sauce, but until then some yellow mustard will keep me happy.

Two brand new seed catalogs have arrived at the farm, and my youngest daughter has asked for both cooking and edible gardening lessons this year, so you can safely assume that my imagination is in overdrive. On that note, I am pretty happy about how last year’s compost system is working. So well, you guys. I’m looking forward to having time in January to continue filling, rotating, and spreading the fertile stuff.

Marathon training has started! I barely ran at all in November, for good reasons; and December has been low mileage (128 so far) but consistent. For the next 18 weeks, I’ll be following the Hansons’ Advanced Marathon Plan, aiming for the OKC full in late April. Very exciting! My local running friends have been a huge support and are full of wisdom, most of them Boston qualifiers. This past year I’ve changed my approach to running in lots of ways, so if that’s interesting to you, please check in here on Mondays starting mid-January. Marathon Monday returns!

I crave salad every day, probably my body’s way of saying, “Enough chocolate-toffee-shortbread, ma’am,” but it’s so cold in Oklahoma. Can you microwave salad? Maybe I should make more soup.

Ann Voskamp can probably do no wrong in my eyes, which clearly means I am on the verge of putting her on a pedestal, which clearly means I should take a breather before reading another of her books. Right? Just kidding. I already started it. A generous gift from a wonderful local writer. I think she wants to be anonymous. Maybe she doesn’t want to be known as my Voskamp enabler.

Enabling is not funny, though. We have had some excruciating decisions laid before us this year. This month. Just yesterday, in fact. It’s ongoing and very real. But prayer keeps up afloat even when we are at our weakest, emboldened on good days, clear-headed and hopeful.

“Welcome to Costo, I love you.” haha We don’t even have Costo in Oklahoma, but this is super funny. We do have Aldi.

Roasted veggies! Duh. When it’s too cold for salad and soup takes too long. Roasted veggies.

And this tea:

If you have 2 hours to snuggle up and feed your brain and imagination, I highly recommend the Netflix documentary called Cuba and the Cameraman. This is a cultural and anthropological indulgence, not a political statement. Pinky promise. Then, if you want to binge watch something beefier, please consider the related Netflix series on the revolutionary history of Cuba, which reaches all the way back to when European explorers “settled” there. Fascinating! Maybe a touch political.

My friend Kellie knitted me the thickest, most luxurious grey infinity scarf. I am smitten and get so many compliments on it. Thank you, Kellie!! Also, she recently agreed to a carrot cake cookoff. I’ll keep you posted. I hope to be in the mood for sweets again by February or March, haha.

Did you have a magical and peaceful Christmas weekend? I sure hope so. Christmas is meant to be magical and peaceful and more. It’s okay to enjoy all of it, every big and little thing.

We thank you for your love and prayers. I am trying to figure out what’s wrong with my blog dashboard, keeping me from responding to comments. But every single word you send is deeply appreciated. Truly.

“There are two types of beings in this Universe.
Those who dance, and those who do not.”
~Guardians of the Galaxy
XOXOXOXO