Cocooning

A poem by Cheri




















I am a shifting mosaic
unsure
where all the pieces fit
sure
that some broken parts have been both lost and found

My gypsy soul wanders the wild wilderness
of Forty
circling back and around
daring to walk
bare
the sensuous feeling of mud between toes

a little thrilled
a little scared
of this beautiful, holy, mucky mess

"Help me stand. . . " or maybe I should pray, "Help me stumble"
to my knees
as I stagger from the drink of
New Wine

This morning Rich took the kids so I could have a quiet, much-needed morning to myself.

It was glorious!

I went for a run, listened to some of Mandisa's music, played around on Facebook, and took my coffee outside for a "garden walk."

The plants are so plush and plentiful. I can't keep up with picking the green beans! It amazes me how tenacious nature can be when faced with a shortage of rain, or some nasty fungus that seems to be spreading throughout our overgrown pumpkin patch. By Grace, fruit still persists! Cucumbers, gourds, squash, tomatoes, etc, keep popping up on a regular basis.

There's so much fresh food to enjoy. Rich has breaded and deep-fried squash for the family. He's also concocted various cucumber and green bean salads. The cherry tomatoes are eaten like candy.

Even the squirrels have been feasting on our sunflowers, bending over tall stalks and salvaging seeds, most likely saving them for a winter treat.

Last spring, while we were planting the garden, my thoughts raced forward to when we could SHARE the fruits it would bear. Yesterday, new neighbors moved into the duplex next door. . .the same small space in which we lived for so long. I can't wait to bring them a bouquet of sunflowers and a welcome basket from our recent harvest.

What a joy to luxuriate in God's long-awaited plenty, savoring Mother-Nature goodness.

John 15:1, 4, 5 "I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. . . Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me, and I in him, he bears much fruit; for apart from Me you can do nothing."

My ebullient friend Jeni (right), and her best friend Amanda (left), painted the inside of our house yesterday! The living room is now "brown bread," (the color of the wall behind them) And Jennifer's room is chocolate brown and pink!

Friends of mine from the dinner theater have said they are simply shocked that somebody "offered" to paint for us. With amazement they say, "It's such a big job. We can't believe somebody would do that for you!"

For several weeks now, I've been searching for words to describe the inner and outer transformations we are experiencing. How can a butterfly describe the gift of wings when for so long it has lived earthbound? By God's mercy, my family has come through 7 years of "famine." We're now in a season of "feast." Feast in the sense that God's provisions have been overflowing and abundant--evident in profound and pronounced ways!


Rich and I have experienced a renewal of love for each other. Sixteen years of marriage and the "spark" is still there! And the way we see God handling little details of our lives together (financial and otherwise) has stimulated much shared prayer and joyful thanksgiving.

For me, Ecclesiastes 3 comes to mind frequently:

"There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven-- A time to give birth, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to uproot what is planted. . .a time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn and a time to dance. . . A time to search, and a time to give up as lost. . . ."

When we filed for bankruptcy in January, we had "given up as lost."It was the appointed time. And now God is guiding us through and to our Second Chance!


There have been blessings on this journey too numerous to count. One simple but surprising example is the fact that Rich came home from work today with a digital camera; a gift from his employer for a "job well done." We've been without a functioning camera for more than a year. And it feels like Sean has grown out of toddler-hood without any way to "freeze-frame" those precious memories.

But now I'm camera-happy! The first thing I did was run outside and begin taking pictures of our new abode, thinking "Now I can SHOW people some of the gifts we are experiencing!"

When words fail, sometimes pictures can paint the emotional landscape of our hearts:



Our split level, 3 bedroom home. We're renting with the option to own!



A view of the backyard from the side yard. We're sitting on approx. 1/2 acre!




We love the over-sized deck!



My friend Rayna came over a week before we moved and helped us plant a garden! It was her housewarming gift to us! I am so grateful, because I could not have done it without her help (I mean financially, AND because I have no clue!) We planted green beans, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, a variety of peppers, squash, and pumpkins!


The kids have had a blast watching things grow, and eating homegrown food! Ryker's checking out our first large pumpkin!




Dwarf sunflowers line the south end of the garden! (Aren't my little son-flowers growing fast too?)





This is one of three perennial beds the former owner planted in the yard. (We need rain!) My biblestudy group gifted the stone cross to celebrate our long-awaited move! It was exactly what I would have picked out for myself! And I was so touched by the meaningful gesture!


My garden-guru friend Rayna also gave us furniture from her front room. (They plan to buy new.) Then, my dear friend Margie provided resources to start making this home our own! New slipcovers, a rug, and a tv stand for the living room! And that's not all! A friend from highschool offered to come over on the 15th to paint our walls a more neutral color! Three more amazing provisions from God! Isn't that cool?




Ryker and Sean share a room. Eventually we'll get this room looking more cozy and color coordinated! The boys want a baseball theme of course! Sean's twin bed was a gift from Grandma and Grandpa for his 4th Birthday! Yeah!



Jennifer is cherishing the privacy of her own room! My sister gave Jen the adorable comforter, and my mom and dad bought her the funky lamp. The lava lamp was a great find from a garage sale! Jennifer picked out chocolate brown and pale pink paint colors for the walls. . . .to be painted on the 15th!

I's God's perogative to give and to take away but no matter what the season, his name is BLESSED! Blessed be his name! Rich and I praise Our Provider for this long-awaited season of plenty! We're laughing, dancing, and gathering stones for an altar of praise!

We feel like we're wearing a coat of many colors!

Thank you Jesus for all you've chosen to give!

Things have changed so much for us now, Cocooning almost doesn't feel like an appropriate title for my blog any longer. Maybe butterfly-ing? I'll have to think about that one. . . .


We're finally settled into our new house! The extra space is such a blessing. I'm definitely cleaning more. And it's harder to keep an auditory rein on my youngest son. But, I'll gladly accept those two inconveniences in lieu of tight quarters. (I wish I could attach pictures of our new place, but the camera isn't cooperating with downloads.)


Before we moved, I mentioned that we had found a monarch caterpillar to midwife. The day we hauled all our stuff across the yard (including the stalk of milkweed with our little miracle on it) the caterpillar gripped a leaf and hung upside down in a 'J,' "dying" to life as she once knew it. It was so sad, watching her hang there. . . alone, unmoving. Within another day, she was fully wrapped in a beautiful green chrysallis with tiny gold flecks.


Then, we discovered a second caterpillar crawling on the same leaf. How amazing! There must have been an egg on the milkweed, invisible to the naked eye. Another week and we had TWO chrysallis. A trip to the pond a few days later (to find a caterpillar for Jennifer's friend) and we couldn't resist adopting ONE MORE fully grown caterpillar for ourselves.


We've never experienced three chrysallis at one time! During that week my thoughts turned often to Father, Son, Holy Spirit.


I also prayed and pondered a verse God gave related to our move:


Matthew 9:17 "No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch will pull away from the garment, making the tear worse. Neither do men pour new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the skins will burst, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins, and both are preserved."


With this timely word, I felt strongly that Abba Father was challenging me to fill the new wineskin of changed circumstances/second chances with HOPE and TRUST. To face worries and fears with utmost confidence in My Provider. To fill our new home with HIS perfect FRUIT.


They say that moving, next to losing a loved one, is one of the highest stress-inducers. We still have unpacked boxes in the garage. Pictures are not hung. Curtains need to be made. Weeds are overtaking the gardens. Cars are giving us problems. And there's the worry of adjusting to our new budget when simultaneously the dinner theater is cutting hours.


I just keep singing, "Jehovah Jirah, My Provider, His grace is sufficient for me, for me, for me."


All the butterflies were born this week. We named them Hope, Zing, and Grace. Each one--with fresh wet wings--wobbled with first flight. But eventually, with the fullness of orange and black glory, they ascended into a sun-filled sky.


"Jehovah Jirah, My Provider, His grace is sufficient for me, for me, for me. Jehovah Jirah, My Provider, His grace is sufficient for me. My God shall supply all my needs. According to his riches in glory. He will give his angels charge over me. Jehovah Jirah cares for me, for me, for me. Jehovah Jirah cares for me!"

I just finished my last shift at the Dinner Theater for the week, and it's finally sinking in that we're moving on Sunday!

I've had so many mixed emotions. Obviously, I'm thrilled that we're moving into a space that'll better fit our family of five. (It's been my heart's prayer for 5 plus years!) But, we're also leaving our home of 7 years, the one that contains all the precious memories of my "young mommy" years. We've lived in this small two bedroom duplex since Jennifer was 2 and Ryker wasn't even born. This summer Jennifer will be 10, Ryker is 7, and surprise baby #3 (Sean) is turning 4. It definitely feels like our move to the house next door is a mark of change on so many levels: A new season of parenting. A fresh start financially. A growing ability to trust. And now that I'm 40, an evolving perspective on life.

The library called today and informed me that a book I ordered three months ago is finally in. (I don't know why it took so long, but I'm a firm believer that timing is no accident.) The book is Marianne Williamson's "The Age of Miracles." It's about navigating midlife with dignity and voice and grace. I read a few pages of the introduction and then quickly put it down. Because with everything I need to do for this move, sneaking a peek at a few pages felt like teasing myself with one small solicitous bite of a double decker chocolate cake. I can't wait for time to truly dig in.

We also found another monarch caterpillar this week. It's currently munching away on a huge stalk of milkweed in our living room.. Within only a few short days the cute, striped little creature has more than doubled in size. This is the third season we've played midwife to a caterpillar, but I never grow tired of watching the miraculous changes and waiting for the transformation to come. I guess the serendipitous timing of finding this little guy is also a gift.

Everything about this move feels simply monumental, so I must admit it seems slightly strange that our street address is only changing by one number. One of my friends said, "You've been waiting on Jesus for so long, and the whole while he's been living next door!"

I'll send address updates once I find out what our new email will be (because that's changing too.) Thanks for sharing the joy and the journey! Blessings like this one just aren't the same without friends and family to help us celebrate!

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty. ~Maya Angelou

Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly. ~Richard Buckminster Fuller

Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable, butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life. And everyone deserves a little sunshine. ~Jeffrey Glassberg

It's been eons since my last post because it feels like the whole earth is shifting beneath me. I'm trying to find my feet. . .endure the aftershocks of John's death. The funeral weekend with friends was wrenching and healing, a time of mourning and praiseful worship. It still bothers me that life is so mixed that way. I'm 40, and still looking for the stone-less road even though I know (at least in my head) one doesn't exist.

Being at Church of the Resurrection (Margie and John's church and my family's home church before moving to Minnesota) was restorative. Through liturgy and music I was reminded that grief and praise can coexist. We cried and danced. Surrendered and celebrated.

Even now, I'm trying to embrace both. I need to mourn John, pray for and support my newly widowed friend and her two precious children, say goodbye to my present home AND celebrate the gift of a new home. As we prepare to move next door, I feel as if my current "nest" is simply being unfeathered. My garage is cluttered with cheaply priced "junk." And I feel restless about living in a new space that I can't quickly re-feather.

I'm just overwhelmed. I want to feel "at home" somewhere. In my grief, I long for comfy quilts and a room that is nurturing, warm, complete. Instead, my home is full of empty boxes.

Empty to fill.

Empty to fill.

Empty to fill.

The phrase runs through my mind as a source of comfort.

Jesus, the One acquainted with our sorrows, fill me with YOU. Help me to make my home in YOU. You're all I truly need.