I asked one of the boys if he could go out in the woods and take some pictures. The spent the afternoon playing outside. They played a game called Manhunt, which is similar to the camp game Hostage. In the morning the four kids had done their Saturday cleaning chores from their cards. They say I have to stick to the card and not add more than what the card is asking. At first I wanted to say, “Um, I’m the mom and I can do what I want.” But I decided to hear their pleas and just be honest and try to joke, “Okay”, I said, “but it’s hard.”

Lunch was scheduled for 12:45. “This is part of my job”, I told them. With four of them doing 25 minutes of cleaning a day, that’s nearly two hours of cleaning happening in less than 30 minutes. It makes a big difference for me to not have to do that. I did acknowledge that my rounding skewed my estimated number of two hours when in fact it is closer to an hour and a half. But it still makes a difference.

Dad had a meeting down at the dining hall. The camp hosted a Lutheran High planning session where the board members, some teachers and parents, and the Lutheran grade school administrators came and had a workshop led by a volunteer from one of the association churches. They have a new plot of land now. I really hope it works out for the school to figure something out. The longer this goes without forward progress the more students the school looses, as well as confidence from parents that the school has a viable future. The Catholic school in town just announced a new sliding scale tuition based on income. We’ve already lost many students to them.

I have a 4-R paper due Monday. It stands for Review, Relate, Reflect, Respond, and is based on whatever book we chose to read from the list. After class last week I went and picked one from the teacher’s office. The book is called Redeeming Work: A Guide to Discovering God’s Calling For Your Career by Bryan Dik. This quarter’s class is Careers Counseling. Taking this semester off has been great. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break, though this break has definitely caused me some doubt and uncertainty. Just out of nowhere it seems like everything shifted.

What if I actually never finish? And this becomes just one of the many things I sought or started, but was blown away and lost. It seemed like God’s way and leading at the time. My three completed theology classes won’t count for anything, as well as the integrating spirituality intensive that I missed my son going to college for. I guess I could also still be thankful to have gotten through as much of the curriculum and core work that I did. And so it is with such changes, taking one day at a time.

You do not know me
but I look forward to your room
where I can sit
with your homemade blanket
at the actual bedside

For your afternoon
tube feeding
and Tylenol for achy joints
talk to me
and I will pour

Do you live here in Springfield?
Huh?
Do you have any children?
Yes
My mother was a nurse

The cat we took to the vet the other day is doing better. Yesterday we let him back outside and he disappeared for a couple of hours. He came back in the afternoon and I let him back in. He slept inside last night again and then went back outside again today. Lately another one of the outside cats has been inside more to sleep on the couch. It’s actually pretty embarrassing how many cats we have in the house, which is why I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned the actual number.

But if you include the three outside cats, there are eight. There are times that I could be standing in the living room hallway, and from where I am standing have five different cats around in my view. The biggest problem I have with them is the smell, that sometimes I feel is much worse at certain times than others. Sometimes I walk into the house and I immediately smell animal. Other times I walk in and it doesn’t smell like anything. It’s a little bit ridiculous but this is what it is.

Tonight Dad and the kids walked out to the new property to see where all the giant logs used to be. The tree harvester people came and picked them all up today. Casper ran out and followed them and it was sweet to see him healing and well and in the middle of things. Today at supper we passed out our cleaning cards. After our brain storming session the other night, Josh came home and wrote out cards for the kids. I was amazed by how quickly he came up something that organized.

Everyone has 10 minutes of cleaning and tidying in their room (if needed), and then 15 minutes cleaning whatever area of the house is on their card for that day. Today’s big thing was going to the grocery store. It really is better if someone comes with me, but I can do it. I came home and cleaned out the fridge, the kind where you’re taking out the shelves and washing them in the sink. After that I was pretty tired and ready for a break. My sister called and we talked for a while.

I’m on the schedule to work the Summer wing day shift tomorrow. I haven’t worked since completing training, so it was getting to be about that time. Josh and I were working at the table yesterday morning, he on the taxes and me filling in all the things in my calendar. The track meets. The weekend things. My homework assignments, which is the only thing I highlight. While I was doing that, work texted with a list of open shifts, wondering which ones, if any, I was able to fill.

Because I am PRN I am not necessarily on the regular schedule. From what I understand, PRN is short for a Latin term that when translated to English means “as needed”. But the expectation, and the requirement, is that I pick up at least my required number of shifts. I feel like these people have been so understanding, so patient with me and flexible, that it’s time for me to start coming through. It is literally my job now to get on the schedule and help them out.

And almost every day there are texts that come. The normal texts from the server that come right to your phone. And the more personal texts from the scheduler that come when someone has called off or when the broader texts haven’t gotten enough results. And even a few direct texts from workers trying to find their own replacements. I really don’t mind it but it can be hard to have to tell someone no, and equally hard to tell them yes, knowing this means I’m committing my day.

So after the thinking and wondering I finally prayed last night, “Lord, give me the wisdom to know when to say yes and when to say no.” I’d already committed to going to church and told myself I wasn’t ready for evenings yet. And I was tired yesterday, and knew I needed today to still be a little more of a nurturing day, folding some laundry, getting the food done. I found two dates on the calendar that I could fill in for. I typed out my reply, stared at the text for a time, then hit send.

I’ve been reading a few things lately that have reminded me again of things I’ve said here. The other day, there was an Instagram post by @lauren_stadler. I’m putting her handle name out there to throw this woman under the bus. I’m just trying to not be a hypocrite by doing the very thing that here lately just bugs me. It’s when people are responding to what other people have supposedly said, but they preface it with “Our culture these days….” or “Feminists will tell you….”

Like, tell me where you saw this so I can go and read for myself and see if I agree with your conclusions. So she started out by saying, “I think sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in thinking we should do more…” Being someone who writes about homesteading and food production, shortly after she goes on, “It’s ok to not make it all from scratch. It’s ok to bake your bread but not mill the flour. It’s ok to read the label and buy a pasta sauce with ingredients you like. It’s okay if half the plate is homemade and half is store bought.”

I read this and immediately thought, “Oh my gosh…”, and I wondered if that was what I sounded like when I was talking about meal planning the other day. Like, the things that cause us angst, the things that apparently have to reassure ourselves of and give permission for…it’s wild. We all have different priorities, ways of doing things, and things we’re trying to accomplish. So like I said, I’m not dissing this woman. But to complete my own thought, somewhere I was thinking, “Oh my gosh, get me off of this hamster wheel.” Like, of course it’s okay that she’s not milling her own flour.

And then today I started another book called Balance, Busyness, and Not Doing It All by Brenda Yoder. Sometimes as a person you just need those books that are speaking so very directly to your particular season of life. It’s felt effortless and perfect to read. It started out by talking about finding your identity in Christ. I feel like this is one of those basic things that should be sunken in and melded to every fiber of my being by now. Our worth is not found in what we do, or even what we don’t do, but it’s found in our relationship to God the Father, through the access provided to us by his Son.

She shared a story about breaking down one day in tears and being so upset with herself. I recently had something similar happen, and it was a full blown ambush with cuss words and burying my face in my hands and saying in shame and exasperation, “Why?!? Why am I like this?!? I’ve had these library books for almost a year. They were important books that were part of the school’s collection of Stone-Campbell Movement history. They were in a bag in my room for months, now they are nowhere to be found. And I had to call the librarian and let her know I would not have the bag for her after all.

She talks about embracing who you are, including your weaknesses. She then something that made me question, specifically, that our weakness are not our fault. It makes me uncomfortable to hear that because my mind jumps to say, “Wait a second, you’re just trying to get me to abdicate responsibility for my failures.” If my weaknesses are actually my fault, then I can do something to change them. If I can do something to change them, then I can eliminate my weaknesses so as not have them anymore.

The truth is, that in some way, God uses our weakness for his glory. I’ve heard it all a thousand times. She references a book The Prayer of Hannah by Pastor Ken Gividend, who renames our weaknesses the “lesser-strengths”. The term resonates. Not because I’m necessarily trying to escape the direct reality of having weakness, but because I’m inclined to think of strengths more as something God can use. And gives. And allows. And if that’s true with the greater ones, how much more with the lesser ones.

Dairy Queen was giving away free ice cream cones today. On our calendar we’d planned to have a Housecleaning Brainstorming Session so we decided to combine the two things and do the brainstorming session there. While they were waiting I went outside to get some steps. I had over 6,000 today. It really just doesn’t feel the same to walk anymore. Later this summer we’re supposed to climb a smaller mountain in South Dakota which I think is something like 3.5 miles up. I have no interest or goals in trying to climb it.

It’s kind of like when you’re spine fuses and your back isn’t as flexible as it was when you were younger. You used to be able to backbends and walkovers and touch your head to your feet with your neck hyperextended to make a perfect arch and fit. All the stretching in the world could not bring that kind of flexibility back, and it feels like its kind of the same with this. Like, I don’t want to give up and just succumb to the slow decline of a sedentary life and lack of movement. The limitation is in my heart. It’s in my chest.

I didn’t have any ice cream. “It’s not good for your figure”, I joked, and I was happy when he laughed. But everybody else had some (minus Elianna who was with Miles) and so they were happy too. I wrote Ethan a letter this afternoon which is the first time I’ve written since he’s gone away. I kind of forget that Amazon-ing snacks and juice boxes and sign language textbooks isn’t the same as writing. Our brainstorming session went well and we came up with a plan of how to spend a little bit of time daily on the cleaning basics.

I write about food like it’s this ongoing outward thing but it’s really just something that exists inside my head. So I can think for years that if I could just be consistent with weekly meal planning that this would basically solve my homemaking food problems. And the result of this solution? That I would no longer need to think about it.

But here’s the thing–I’m speaking plainly–being consistent with designing and following weekly meal plans, even weekly meal plans that you make up once and then simply rotate throughout the seasons, is not something I have been able to do. And it drives me nuts because I feel like somewhere, I should be far more advanced by now.

Here’s what I know: We have to eat everyday. Traditionally in our family it has been my responsibility to work out the logistics most of the time to make sure this happens. And like the laundry, or much of the cleaning, is this something that I resent having to do? Honestly, no. Do I feel like there are times when I could do a better job than I’m doing?

Sicknesses and life seasons aside, yes. Do I sometimes get this gnawing sense that with just a little bit of focus and intention that the task that so often seems overwhelming to me could be relieved by approaching it in a little less scattered way? Again, yes. So what does this mean? Because it is too much for me to try and plan everything out.

Maybe there actually exists somewhere people who actually do this, women who are particularly gifted with organization and detail, and meal planning is one of the outlets they have for this quality. But I would argue that this is not the vast majority of housewives, or just the normal people out there who are getting by in the day to day.

A couple weeks ago in class we were talking about the Myers-Briggs types. Some of us were P’s, some of us were J’s. The J’s are the one who supposedly like to have things scheduled and operate best in a more structured way when things are planned out. P’s are ones who prefer less structure, leaving room for spontaneity. I am more of a P.

What I wanted to know was, do J’s struggle with nagging thoughts such as “Oh I really need to let loose a little more. I need to learn to be a little more flexible”? And then I explained that this was my struggle, regularly thinking, “Oh I need to be more organized”. I buy my planner and am proud of myself for doing that. It does help.

There was only one student who had anything to add. He’s a J and he says he recognizes where his J-ness could be a problem. And then the teacher said that it’s good to be able to grow in areas where we’re weaker, in organization, in flexibility, etc. But also, at the end of the day, we have to be able to get to a point of, “Okay, this is me.”

And not want to change it. In other words, to accept and appreciate the special ways our strengths and qualities add to the good of the world. So for me this means that it makes sense why trying to plan out the exact meals and make a shopping list for each week for me to follow is something I can do but also feels like impossible drudgery.

It’s because I’m trying to meal plan like a J instead of a P, which is actually who I am. So how would a P meal plan? With a mental template. Let’s say I need five suppers this week. Typically it’s good to have a substantial amount of food for growing and hungry people. Lunch doesn’t have to be crazy but it’s nice to do something more for it too.

And besides the “go-to” memorized recipes like tator-tot casserole which I know everyone likes, let’s just say you follow a general rule to have a meat, potato/starch, and green vegetable option for the evening meals. So when I go to the store that’s what I’m looking for. A couple of bags of yellow potatoes. Brussels sprouts. Frozen stir fry.

Frozen chicken thighs. Pork chops. Beef roast. THIS IS FINE. I don’t have to do it another way. Nobody is asking me to. This works. And if it at some point it stops working, then I can adjust and do something different as needed. But it is actually less stressful for me to do it like this where I can live as who I am instead of trying to be different to no avail.

I’m still working my way through this Elisabeth Elliot biography. There are two. The one I’m reading is about her early adult life, particularly the time leading up to her preparation for and earliest work as a missionary, her brief marriage to Jim and the grief, longing, and uncertainty following that loss, and her time as a widow living among the Waodini tribe which is the same tribe that her husband and his fellow missionaries had loved so much and longed to befriend.

By the end of the book she ends up back in the states. I haven’t quite gotten there yet. There are other things to do besides read, like today when we went to church. Dad had to preach in Jacksonville to help out with their vacancy. There are 34 vacancies in the Central Illinois District and I do feel bad for that. Not that this is directly related but I really think every church needs to have at least 1-2 elders who are able to fill in on a Sunday morning for the pastor. They could be trained, their sermon could be approved ahead of time or if it’s too much they could just leave it out.

There wouldn’t have to be communion if that would bother somebody to not have a pastor doing it. After Sunday School the kids and I stopped by County Market to pick up a few items for lunch today and school lunches. They had corned beef and cabbage all made for St. Patrick’s Day. We enjoyed that yesterday when a family whose baby Josh was baptizing invited us for lunch in the CGC. It was good to see them. I am very grateful for the meals we’ve had along the way.

Casper didn’t get up when we came outside. He was still in his milk crate and did not look happy. Later after our walk he still was there. About 90% of the time, the abscesses get better on their own. But his was not getting better and now he was acting sick. None of the walk-in animal places were open so we took him to the Springfield Animal ER. They sedated him then drained and cleaned the wound and gave him an antibiotic.

So he’s supposed to stay inside if possible for the next few days so we can keep an eye on him and keep him out of the elements. The first time this happened with another cat they said flies and gnats can get in there and lay eggs, depending on what time of the year it is. While we were out this evening I stopped by Walgreens to look for pre-filled saline syringes. Instead I found a normal saline wound wash spray. I’m going to clean it the same way I was doing with the tunnel wound at Concordia. Twice a day, normal saline flush.

This wouldn’t be a bad abscess protocol here. They said he should be feeling better within 24-48 hours. I had the heater on in our room where I took a nap this afternoon. The doctor said when it comes to exercise to do 50% of what I think I can do and that I was still young to have those kinds of limits. So I’ve been thinking about the 50% and what that means, and what it would look like to apply that to other things as well. I could try it.

I’ve been thinking lately that there are things in my life that could change or improve in ways that would only require just a little bit of effort. This started in the Kohl’s fitting room when I caught a glimpse of my face up close. Fitting room mirrors aren’t usually kind, but with taking into account those adjustments I thought, “Why don’t I care more about my physical appearance? Why am I still so inept? Why haven’t I learned?”

And so I said to Elianna, “One YouTube video a week. That’s all we would have to do.” To commit and apply ourselves to learning some new hairstyle, fashion tip, or eyebrow grooming technique. Going to her wasn’t anything against her own beauty or style, but an effort to have a friend to learn alongside of. I don’t think she was totally against it, but it wasn’t the enthusiastic response I was hoping for. I think she’d do it though.

And then again when everyone was here for her birthday. We have a chalkboard in the dining room that has morphed over the years with the different seasons. It now serves as a giant family calendar, separated into days, evenings, and mornings. If there is something going on it goes on the calendar. Dad to Pittsfield. Dad to Salem. 7PM Elders. LuHigh. No one was here when for weeks it was two days a week Mom Work 7-3.

But that was a different kind of feeling. It was the self-consciousness from feeling like you have nothing to show for your work, when you’re around those you think could never fully understand. There was already one doctor’s appointment up on the board. I’d crossed off another, not wanting them to see two. But the time was still there. “Oh, do you work tomorrow, Rebekah?” No. I’d told them I’d be freer again after this week.

The same thing happened again while we were sitting around the table eating supper. The topic of homeschooling came up. And it’s never the things that I remember. They didn’t get grades. We just skipped our math because we didn’t know how to do it. One didn’t even do math through all of seventh grade. All we had to do was do our work and the rest of the day was free to do whatever. One was bored for three months straight.

We had a talk on the way home. And though it was not my intent to make anyone feel bad, nor was it theirs, I did have to tell them that homeschooling, that motherhood in general, was something I had put my heart and soul into, that I had given the most energetic years of my life for. And it wasn’t about grades, it was about being a family and enjoying time with your parents in a way that many children never experience.

And about work ethic, and the real-life experiences of resolving conflicts, and having chores. And not being cooped up in a far away building for seven hours. And again, getting to actually see and spend time with your parents because the time you have with them in your life is actually very short, and then you grow up and that time is over. I don’t know how well I expressed all this then. They wouldn’t understand it even now.

So no, I am not working tomorrow, nor am I currently applying for my dream job as a Synod higher-up in an education position with a resume of relevant and actually very impressive work experience. She’d be perfect for it and I hope she gets it if that’s God’s plan. I spent my morning today decided and determined that I really do just need to make another series of meal plans. They can repeat every two weeks. It’s that simple.

And I opened up my email to get to my google docs tab where I was going to type out weekdays and food ideas. But before I did that I scanned my emails and clicked on the Substack post from a fellow Lutheran mom. In her post, she linked to another Substack post about writing. It was called Women and Christian Publishing by Jen Pollack Michael. I read the article and skimmed through the comments. I’m still digesting my thoughts.

So that was probably 30 minutes, who knows. But I came away with sense of peace about where I am at. I am here with my family still growing and changing. And while some things have gotten easier, some things, like meal planning and keeping up with the food, continue to be challenging as we all still require daily meals to sustain us. I have let all that go now, my heart full in knowing that I have nothing more to prove.

Much of the day was spent out at the farm. We went over around lunchtime. The kids and I played a dice game before it was time to eat. There’d been some excitement throughout the morning when one of my nieces discovered there was water leaking from one of the downstairs ceiling lights. The contractor sent his guys over right away to figure out what was going on. They were over there cutting holes in the ceiling and bedroom drywall trying to determine where the leak was coming from.

They finally determined it was coming from the master bathroom shower. It turns out the tile guy is going to have to tear out all the tile and then completely redo it. The contractor was very embarrassed and apologetic but insistent that the problem would get fixed. My mother-in-law really wasn’t too worried about it. There’ve been several kinks like this that have needed worked out since she moved in to the house.

They’d bought some chicken and pulled pork from Sam’s Club, so we had sandwiches, chips, fruit, and Girl Scout Cookies for dessert. The chicken was really good. I don’t know what it is with pulled pork anymore but it has become one of those meals that I do not get excited about it. I really don’t like to complain about any food, but sometimes you just have something so often as it becomes the go to meal for every church function or family gathering. Food is hard, it’s just one of those things.

We spent the afternoon hanging out and playing outside. The kids set up a badminton net along with some other yard games. Three of us took a walk along the distance of the lane, so a mile. That was the most I’d walked since feeling better again this time. I have some more exercise thoughts and ideas but I will save those for another time. My mother-in-law and I stayed inside while the others were outside more.

She and I eventually walked out to the creek. They have a small cemetery along the border of the property. She said people used to come on occasion and wish to visit but that now no one comes. The others had walked out there to see it, as my nieces had never been out there. It’s surrounded by a stone wall and Josh’s dad used to burn the inside of it to keep the grass from growing too tall. We sat on the patio steps and watched them all walk back from across the field. It was another nice day.