How Quickly I Forget

It's been another busy season in the Eder household. Last week the kids were off school for Spring Break and in the course of eight days we had a nephew visiting from out of town, a surprise 25th anniversary party for my brother/sister-in-law, a trip downtown to the Museum of Science & Industry (go see the Mythbusters Exhibit while you can) and a short getaway to Lake Geneva for Dan and me.

Dan and I both took a couple of days off, but it's always harder to get out of the house than you think it will be while you arrange for what's ahead and for what you leave behind (namely kids and their schedules). My parents were gracious enough to watch our kids for our weekend away which I had long anticipated.

Dan and I rarely go away alone together and it had been a year since the last time we did it. I was more than ready.

Our trip - once it started, which was five hours later than planned - began beautifully with a smooth drive up to Wisconsin and that kind of easy conversation that comes on a recreational road trip. The hotel was fantastic (Mill Creek Inn if you're interested) and we had the best suite in the place with a perfect view of Lake Geneva and a peaceful creek below (hence the name). There was a hot tub in the room - bonus - and we were well relaxed before we went out to dinner at a new pub restaurant called Sprechers (I'd recommend that too) which had an extensive menu, a stellar waitress and a Friday night fish fry which Dan happily ordered. We came back to the hotel room, opened our last bottle of nice wine from Left Foot Charley's and watched a movie.

The next morning we slept in and casually made our way over to Egg Harbor Cafe for an equally splendid breakfast with another fantastic waitress. I couldn't decide between bacon and sausage or eggs and french toast, so I got all four. We got back to the hotel in plenty of time to check out, and made our way to the parking garage while discussing what we would do with the rest of our day and night (we weren't due back home until late that evening). We came to our car, put all our belongings into the trunk and shut it.

Including the car keys.

Our first response, by God's grace, wasn't complete panic. We went back into the hotel and called the police who were there literally minutes later. The officer helping us was phenomenal and quickly got our car door open. The problem was the trunk release latch has been broken for about a year and a 1/2. So still no keys. This poor man spent the better part of a 1/2 hour trying to get our back seats to recline so we could climb through to the trunk, but wouldn't you know it, the seat release button? It's in the trunk.

After he moved on we called our insurance agency who deployed a locksmith. We went to a Caribou coffee and sat in big leather chairs while we waited for him to arrive which was a little less than an hour later. Still not panicking, but increasingly concerned that the charge for the locksmith is going to exceed the cost of the hotel and we were really trying to do this on the cheap.

The locksmith arrived with his visiting brother-in-law in tow, along for what was seemingly a standard job for them. They stayed for five hours attempting to get into our trunk. They were unsuccessful. Here's where I started to forget all the wonderful blessings God has just bestowed on me.

Of course you don't know in the beginning that these things are going to take five hours so you stand outside in your not-warm-enough coat in the garage of the hotel - where the sun isn't shining - and you wait and expect that any-minute-now that trunk will pop and you'll be on your way. Well his van had every tool, contraption and device known to a man in the business for 35 years and yet none of it could trigger that lock.

We're talking about a 2004 Nissan Sentra. Oh the irony.

We called in the VIN #, got a key code, and cut a key.

Nothing.

By this time Dan was coughing, sneezing and developing a fever.

I was pouting.

In circles.

For hours.

So much for my romantic weekend getaway. Why do these things always happen to me? Such were the pitiful thoughts racing through my head as I attempted to find something to be grateful about, some way to glorify God, some way to encourage my husband. But I kept coming back to the "poor me" attitude and felt hot tears stinging my cheeks as I walked up and down the main strip in and out of stores alone, not daring to buy anything for fear of the key cost and hoping to keep warm.

My husband, God love him, did not complain one bit.

Around the sixth hour of being locked out I begged God to give me a word - something - anything that would help deliver me from my self imposed crisis. The thought that immediately came into my head was "Rejoice that your name is written in the book of life." Luke 10:20

So I rehearsed it to myself over and over while I walked in circles and waited for them to call it quits.

After five hours and exhausting all his bag of tricks the locksmith gave up and took his poor brother-in-law home. By God's infinite grace, he did not charge us one dime.

In the end, my parents drove up with our spare set of keys and we went back to Sprechers for dinner while we waited for them. We spent the first ten minutes thanking God for everything we could think of (a lot of those prayers included our kids and my parents). That and a glass of wine helped a lot.

Sunday was Palm Sunday. I was asked to read Mark 11:1-11 about Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem where the people laid their coats and palm branches on the road in front of him and shouted "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!"

A week later the same people were shouting "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"

How very quickly we forget the Savior.

How very blessed I am that even when I am unfaithful, he is always faithful.

The Birds are Back

So interesting that my last post was "It's Raining Snowballs" and for the past two weeks the kids have been asking me to turn the A/C on in the house. Which I refuse to do.

It's March.

But it's not an unwarranted request. The temperature inside our house has been well over 80 degrees the better part of this week during the oddest heat wave Chicago has ever seen this early in the Spring season. In fact, today is the first official day of Spring and it's normally several weeks before we see any signs of it in this region.

But the trees are blooming,

The plants are sprouting,

And the birds are singing...

...which I love. I just sort of wish they started a little later than 4:30am.

Because the windows are open.

Because I won't turn the air on.

Because it's March.

The bugs are also crawling, flying and generally wreaking havoc. I did mention the windows were open right? It's like an engraved invitation for an insect invasion.

Our shoe bucket is a mix of flip-flops, gym shoes, work shoes and boots. I'm not putting them away until after Easter.

It's March.

We got two feet of snow on Good Friday a couple of years back.

The kids built a snow bunny in the front yard.

The longer, warmer days have been a welcome shot of energy in a jam-packed late-winter season. I was able to get away to Lake Geneva with a couple of girlfriends the weekend before last and we walked around the lake and really relaxed. This past weekend Dan and I went to family wedding.

Outdoors.

In March.

I know this is probably a one-off and I'll never experience summer in March again unless I move to another state, but it's been a welcome reprieve.

In a month that tends to both arrive and leave like a lion, I love to see so much evidence of the lamb.

Especially during lent.

It's Raining Snowballs

No really. I've never seen snowflakes so big in all my life. And as a reminder, I've lived in the Chicago area all my life.

When I drove home from work my windshield looked like an IMAX 3D movie screen of snow.

I took a picture with my camera phone.

But it's only two megapixels.

And it's a pay as you go phone so I don't want to pay to log onto the internet to email myself the poor quality picture.

And I don't know how to hook the phone directly up to the computer.

But I can text now.

They are predicting 3-6 inches, possibly nine in outlying areas. Thing is, where I live (which is a mere seven miles south of where I work)...no snow.

At all.

I brought my laptop home just in case they're right.

I'm up for a snow day.

Fat & Ashes

Well now that the lenten season is officially upon us, it has occurred to me we are well into February and I've only posted once on this blog since the new year. Kind of ironic, since a blog by definition means one is writing pretty much all the time.

Oh well.

I'm trying to improve my discipline by writing even when I don't feel like it, even when I don't have the time and even when I lack any inspiration.

This post will be short.

Yesterday was "Fat Tuesday" which by all accounts in my mind is more a less an excuse to stuff our faces with Pazcki's and otherwise indulge ourselves in "sinful pleasures" before the 40 days of fasting begins. Except no one I know fasts. And it isn't 40 days. (Sundays don't count leading up to Easter).

I was feeling pretty good that my Pazcki intake was limited to 1/4 of one of the powdered-sugar covered and custard-filled delights. Especially because these days I could be accused of Fat Friday and Fat Monday just as easily. The six boxes of Girl Scout cookies didn't help. Okay. There were eight boxes.

But the Ash part I get. I appreciate a reminder of any kind that "we are but ashes and to ashes we will return" because my default is too think way higher of myself than I ought (Romans 12:3).

And I'm all for times of reflection that lead to repentance and an attitude that shares in the sufferings of Christ.

I'm just not going to limit myself to one day.

Or 40.

On the Twelfth Day of January

We're not even two weeks into 2012 but it feels like Christmas was a month ago already. We've been enjoying the mildest Chicago winter in my memory...until today. It started snowing around 9am this morning and hasn't stopped yet. My kids - and more importantly my nephews visiting from Australia who never see temperatures below 45 degrees in winter - were thrilled.

Bonus: the twins had a half day and were able to play outside with their cousins. It was the four kids (twelve and under) against the 18-year-old, six-foot-two brother/cousin in a monster snowball fight. Until two neighbors came over. Then it was six against one.

The 18-year-old won.

It took me awhile to get home from work. There are always a few folks who forget how to drive in the first snowfall. They go whiteknuckled with hands at Ten and Two O'Clock coasting in the path of the tracks in front of them at a whopping 10-15 MPH. They are terrified of people like me who are accelerating to get around them. But even I tried to manifest some patience today while everyone got their bearings.

Miraculously Dan made it home in time to attend the Parent-Teacher Conferences for Maggie and Ryan which began at 5:15.

I love these nights.

I love meeting teachers who love to teach. Even though their class sizes increase and their meetings are scheduled at inconvenient times and they constantly have some yahoos in the mix that require repeated reminders that it isn't Open Mic Night at the Comedy Club, they love to teach. They get up hilatiously early and come to a building that houses over 600 preteens and then spend their energies pouring into the lives and minds of those kids.

Class after class. Day after day.

The benefit of the snowstorm was that lots of people were late and so we had several of the teachers to ourselves, if for only a few minutes to hear about how our kids are doing in their classes. And they RAVED about our kids.

I'm touched when I get to reconnect with some of Caitlin's former teachers who ask after her and sincerely rejoice when we tell them how well she is doing, all while managing to declare some special skill or trait of Maggie or Ryan's that they really appreciate to avert the dreaded comparison with the gifted older sibling.

I know it's all God's grace and we are unbelievably, undeservedly blessed with these kids and I'm happy I get to tell their teachers that. I'm also happy I get the opportunity to tell our kids how glad I am to hear that they put forth the effort they do and show these amazing men and women who teach such respect.

This is a pretty good start to the new year.

A Christmas Poem

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a present was wrapped, not one single blouse
The stockings lay empty as bags were unpacked
And I frantically searched through the piles of gift stacks

While counting the items to ensure all was equal
I think that I lost my son's DVD sequel
A quick glance at the calendar and what should I find
But a nativity scene that was three days behind

But advent was coming - sure it's almost here
And ready or not it's the time for good cheer
For Jesus came down from heaven to earth
Fulfilling the prophecy of one virgin's birth

And gifts from the store, with all their fine labels
Are no match for the joy that was born in a stable
This Christmas my hope and my prayer for you all
Is not for the prizes that come from a mall

But for minds to believe and hearts to embrace
The Savior that came to us filled with God's grace
That favor would rest on those whom He calls
And new life would be shared with the King of us all

Advent

Advent - noun - from the Latin adventus meaning

1. a coming into place, view, or being; arrival: the advent of the holiday season.
2. ( usually initial capital letter ) the coming of Christ into the world.
3. ( initial capital letter ) the period beginning four Sundays before Christmas, observed in commemoration of the coming of Christ into the world.
4. ( usually initial capital letter ) Second Coming.

There's been a lot of coming and arriving lately for our family. My sister came last week from Australia with her two youngest boys. Last night her husband and daughter arrived. Next week my other sister will be coming in, then two other nephews.

At church/work last weekend four identical Christmas concerts arrived along with a Senior Luncheon for 300 that my parents organized. This week (which is almost half over) will bring the arrival of a Live Nativity production - for which my family makes up almost 1/3 the cast - two Christmas parties, two music concerts and a massive birthday party.

Next week my vacation time is coming up.

Much of these activities have been eagerly anticipated. Some have come much sooner than expected.

We've been gathering together with our kids every night to hang characters on our Advent Calendar, taking time to read Scriptures and talk about the anticipation of earlier generations waiting for the promised Messiah who would deliver them.

700 years passed between Isaiah's prophecy of the Christ to come and His arrival.

That's a long time to wait.

We've been singing songs about Emmanuel, which literally means "God with us" and really thinking about what it means to be on this side of the incarnation of the living God.

For me it means, even while I find myself waiting, this time for His Second Coming, there is much to celebrate and marvel at today.