Groove

As in, back in.

My little one spent this week in the hospital.

We're home tonight, but it's been a really long week. We're thankful that it's over.

I'm on vacation until Tuesday, and feeling grateful that I don't have to think about this weekend, other than some meals, a doctor's visit, and administering drugs.

Slowly I'm beginning to feel like I'm part of the world again, as four walls had become far too familiar.

Someone really needs to tell this young pastors' kid that Christmas Day isn't the day to earn a hospital admit through the ER. I'm just sayin'. And I'm only saying it because he's on the way to being well. And I'm so very thankful for that.

Ten Things on Tuesday

1. Moving with a sick child is hard. Especially when the sickness involves many messy changes. He's better now.

2. We love to have phone service in our house, and high-speed internet, and when it doesn't work the way it's supposed to, we get really, really grumpy. Especially when the company doesn't seem all that concerned about fixing the problem.

3. Christmas is coming.... and I've done more to prepare than ever before, and yet I still feel out of sorts -- perhaps because all of my preparations are still in boxes, or not found.

4. I'm wearing the sassiest, least pastor-like boots that I own this morning.

5. Old homes have very little closet space.

6. And small-ish kitchens.

7. With white metal cabinets (which I love) that provide for magnetic storage solutions.

8. I'm still enough of a northern girl that I expect to see snow on the ground at this time of year, though for the sake of the move and getting things done, I'm glad that the ground is bare and dry.

9. With the lights on the tree and a glass of wine last night, I felt incredibly content.

10. Work beckons.

Books, Books, Books

Just in time to write a list, here are some book recommendations from readers. Feel free to add more recommendations in the comments. And, if these aren't enough books, there are more recommendations from last spring here.

Enjoy! And thanks for sharing your love of reading!


Nature Girl by Carl Hiaasen

The Time Traveler's Wife

The Solace of Leaving Early by Haven Kimmel


Don't Get Too Comfortable by David Rakoff

The Soul Is Here for its Own Joy

The Prophetic Imagination by Brueggemann

Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama

Poisonwood Bible and Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver

Leaving Church by Barbara Brown Taylor

Paris to the Moon by A Gopnik



Reading Lolita in Tehran


The People of Sparks Jeanne DuPrau

Moveable Feast by Hemingway

Eldest by Chistopher Paolini

Living History by Hilary Clinton

Girl Meets God Lauren Winner

Falling Leaves: The Memoir of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter by Adeline Yen Mah

Jesus and the Father by Kevin Giles

Myth of the Perfect Mother by Carla Barnhill

Dear Church by Sarah Cunningham

A Northern Light by Jennifer Donnelly

The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson

A Good Yarn Debbie Macomber

Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren

Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality by Jack Rogers

Anything by David Sedaris (laugh out loud funny...)
Anything by Sarah Vowell


Almost anything by Jennifer Weiner (avoid the mystery novel)
Poetry: Rumi and Hafiz.

Quiet

It's one of those bitterly cold, startlingly beautiful mornings -- a morning in which if I still lived in the place from which I came, the trees would be cracking and the snow would be blue before the sun rose. Instead the sounds around me haven't changed much since the temperatures dropped and the snow fell -- sirens still howl and cars still zip past our house, ignoring the residential limit. But there is a moment of quiet for me this morning, a moment in which I've been able to read some blogs and get caught up on e-mail (if only the reading and not the responding with great care).

My blog has been quiet recently, and it's not for a lack of having things to write about or respond about or simply ponder. I've had bits of time for other things, so surely I could have found time to blog, but I haven't. Some of those "things" feel a bit too fragile, a bit too tender to post, and yet beautiful at the same time: an ornament made of glass, that after holding up to the light, I put back in the box instead of on the tree.

In the next week, because being a pastor in December isn't enough, we're closing on a house and moving. (I'd originally typed the next two weeks and then did the math, let out an expletive, and revised my statement.) Those are the things (both the worries and the joy) that keep me up in the quiet of the night, wanting to hear the snap of the trees, the crack of ice.