Ten things I learned this spring

This March, I discovered a delightful What We Learned link-up on Emily Freeman's website - a space where bloggers are invited to share what they learned over the previous season. I really enjoyed learning from the journeys of others, and was excited to make my own list. As I reflected back on everything that's happened this spring, I picked up the dual themes of surprises and new beginnings. So much change, and so much transition yet to come!


1. We belong here in Washington.
In February, our family took a trip to Arizona and visited our old house on the Hopi Reservation, as well as a lot of the places that brought us joy when we made our home there. It was a lovely and bittersweet trip. Despite our delight in watching the kids revel in the landscape and wonders of the Southwest, it was very clear to us that we didn't belong there. The Hopi Reservation was no longer our home, and there was no desire or calling to return. Luke, especially, felt the pain of being a stranger in the Hopi Health Care Center he used to "own". Strange as it seems to me (considering what I thought my life would be like 20 years ago), our home is now here in the generous and abundant Northwest. (I wrote a little about our Hopi journey in this blog post.)

Beautiful for a visit, but no longer our home.

2. I can give up homeschooling. 
I've homeschooled for ten years now (since Josiah was four years old), and it's been a central part of my life and identity. Homeschooling has been my primary job, and I poured tremendous amounts of focus, energy, creativity, and resources into doing it well. When friends asked me how long I planned to homeschool, I always answered, "We'll see. We take it year by year, and reevaluate often." Privately, though, I wondered if I would ever be able to give up homeschooling. I was passionate about it, and was continually mapping and tweaking our scope and sequence for years to come. I hoped that God would never call me to sacrifice this bedrock of my life, because I wasn't sure if I could.

Over the course of one day this spring, I discovered that I could let go. The day began with an unexpected email informing me that the kids' homeschool partnership program was in jeopardy. As I wondered what we would do if the program folded, I briefly considered the possibility of sending all three kids to public school, then immediately rejected it. I had already purchased curriculum for the following year, and was deep into the excitement of planning things out.

By the end of that day, however, after discussing possibilities with the kids, the inconceivable was suddenly very conceivable. Within a week, I had submitted enrollment paperwork and my days as a homeschool mother were numbered. Something that I thought would be a gut-wrenching decision just happened, swiftly and quietly, without drama (although looking back, I can see multiple ways God prepared me for that moment). I felt a little like Galadriel in the Two Towers movie, when Frodo offers her the Ring of Power. She imagines taking it, and becomes enormous and freaky as she envisions what she would become with the Ring's power. Then she shrinks down again to herself and gasps, "I passed the test". Of course, giving up homeschooling isn't anything like refusing the One Ring of Doom, but I still feel like I passed the test. I was able to let go when the time came to let go, and now my hands are open to receive new and exciting things. It is a delight with terror in it.

P.S. Now that I know I won't be homeschooling next year, my motivation to finish strong has dropped precipitously, especially when nice weather beckons. We are limping to the end.


3. I am a fast bleeder. 
In March, drawn by the promise of free Equal Exchange coffee, I walked into the Bloodmobile in the grocery store parking lot and offered up my arm. Back when I lived in Chapel Hill and worked at UNC Hospitals, I donated platelets every couple of weeks, a process that took a couple of hours and returned my red blood cells to my body. This was my first experience of donating whole blood. The technician told me it usually took around 20 minutes, but that the record was a little more than four.

It took me 6 minutes and 20 seconds to produce a pint of blood. I felt slightly disturbed that my body was so eager to rid itself of its essence. The blood people weren't disturbed, though. I got a phone call from them today (just two days after I was eligible again) urging me to come back as soon as possible because there is a pressing need for my blood type.  It's kind of nice to know I am useful and wanted, even if it's only for my blood. I don't have any particular desire to surpass my record, however.

I'll be doing this again next Wednesday.

4. Thin Lemon Oreos are delicious. They taste exactly like the lemon creme biscuits we ate a lot of when my family lived in Kenya. My sister agrees with me, and these Oreos take us back to sunny Nairobi teas in gardens full of hibiscus, bouganvillea, and tropical birds.

Unlikely doppelgänger to British tea biscuits.

5. How not to bite my nails.
After years of wanting to quit my habit, I've finally learned the secret: Invisalign. It's impossible to chew my nails when my mouth is filled with plastic and my teeth are sore. My nails haven't looked this good in years, and I even had to clip them with real nail clippers because they got too long. It's kind of an expensive and inconvenient solution to nail biting, but it works.

Speaking of Invisalign, I also learned that before you receive your alignment trays, you get sharp little spikes of synthetic enamel sculpted all over your teeth. The spikes are perfectly matched with corresponding pockets in your aligners, and help create some torque to wrest recalcitrant teeth into shape. I did not realize this until the day I showed up to get my trays. The little set of fake teeth with Invisalign trays the orthodontist showed me when he sold me on the process did NOT have any spikes on them. My teeth now sport 18 spiky spikes, half of which protrude front and center. The spikes snag on the inside of my mouth when I take my trays out to eat, and they are not invisible. I do not like them, not one little bit.

But at least my nails look good. And I hope that before too long my teeth will, too. (I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I recognize how blessed I am to have the opportunity to fix my teeth.)

Frankenteeth (but nice nails!)

6. How to train for a half-marathon.
This is a Google search I never thought I would do. I was a sprinter and a jumper in high school, but longer distances never appealed to me. Until yesterday, I don't think I ever ran more than three miles without stopping. So when my dear friend in Germany messaged me a couple weeks ago and asked me if I wanted to run a half-marathon in Tanzania with her next May, it was a bolt from the blue. But to my surprise, it felt like an adventure I was excited about pursuing, and when I forwarded her message to Luke, his immediate response was that I should go for it.

So I am now a registered Muskathlete. I committed to raise at least 10,000 Euro to benefit Compassion International, an organization that combats child poverty worldwide, and to run 13.1 miles in a row. (I should also brush up on my French, since this particular Muskathlon is only open to French and German speakers. At least my friend speaks fluent German.) Three challenges in one!

I was relieved to find many half-marathon training plans online that look do-able and minimally intimidating, with assurance that a beginner like me could get in reasonable shape for a half-marathon by next year. It's still a little scary, though, to think of running that far. I ran 4.4 miles yesterday and it felt like a long, long, hard slog. I'm going to have to trust that if I faithfully follow a training plan, running 13.1 miles won't seem quite so impossible a few months from now.

Yes, I still have a long way to go!

7. Cholera used to be known as the Blue Death.
That's because people get so dehydrated, their skin turns bluish-gray. I learned this while reading The Great Trouble to the kids. It's a fascinating historical novel set in London during the Industrial Revolution, and it chronicles Dr. John Snow's search for the source of a cholera outbreak, as well as his efforts to convince people that their ideas about disease transmission were wrong.

I have a masters in public health, and one of the things my fellow students and I frequently lamented was how public health has an image problem. It's hard to wrap your mind around, it's not exciting, and it's not sexy. That's why I was so tickled to find a gripping children's book that was all about public health. Although the writing is somewhat stilted, the story itself is captivating and incorporates multiple issues and challenges central to public health, leading to good discussions. It was especially rewarding to see how riveted my children were in the narrative. Hurrah for public health! And for clean water!


8.  My girls don't know the difference between raw ground turkey and raw sliced beef (but cooking together as a family is really fun).

A few weeks ago, we were given a coupon for a free Hello Fresh delivery. We received a huge box in the mail, containing everything needed to cook two family meals. The kids were excited and worked together with us both times. I was surprised at how much fun it was to cook as a family, as well as how much the kids could accomplish in the kitchen. Even though the girls got mixed up and marinated the ground turkey for the beef and broccoli stir fry, thus leaving the beef strips for the turkey enchiladas, both meals tasted great. We usually cook vegetarian, and it hadn't occurred to me that my kids wouldn't be able to identify and categorize raw meats.

It was so much fun to cook together as a family that I thought about how we could do it more often. As much as we enjoyed Hello Fresh, I can't stomach the weekly cost of subscribing to such a service, or the amount of waste that is generated when every single ingredient is pre-packaged. Then I realized that the main things that made the kit so family-friendly were the large, colorful, step-by-step recipe cards with directions and pictures. And I realized that you can access those same beautiful recipes and directions online for Hello Fresh and for other meal services, and buy the ingredients yourself at a fraction of the cost. I let Anna browse through the vegetarian recipes and choose several she wanted to try. I purchased the ingredients for a couple of her choices and the girls made them with me. It was delightful to cook together, and turned something that's usually a chore into a special time. I plan to do much more of that type of activity this summer.

9. Like running, you need to work out at writing to stay in shape. 
I really enjoy writing, and used to do it a lot. Not creative writing, like my sister, but reflective, narrative, sometimes analytical writing. And I was pretty good at it, too - I could polish off an eight page paper in a few hours, and get great feedback from professors.

But then I had children and took a long, long break from regular writing. When I decided to resurrect this blog about a month ago, I envisioned myself sitting down a couple times a week, an hour at a time, and whipping up an articulate post before I resumed the regular business of the day.

Anybody who writes regularly will laugh and nod to hear that's not what happened. I was rusty, and quickly rediscovered that good writing takes a lot of time. You don't just pick up where you left off. My writing muscles are a little atrophied, and it's going to take discipline and effort to tighten them up again.

But I want to take the effort to be a good writer again. I know that it's through writing that I reflect deeply and ground myself, that I make sense of what's going on in the world and in me. Part of my goal in the next year is to find my voice again, and to share it with others. Another delight with terror in it.


10. Facebook is actually kind of fun. 
I joined Facebook three weeks ago. I resisted a long time. And I prided myself on remaining aloof from that time-sucking behemoth of modern American culture. Every time I heard somebody lament the time they spent on Facebook or read an article about how Facebook damages true, authentic connection, I felt morally superior.

But in truth, my reasons for avoiding Facebook were not particularly laudable. My main reason was fear - fear of being too visible or of not being visible enough (nobody caring about what I post), fear of being out of my element and not very good at something, maybe even fear of becoming like everybody else, of losing a countercultural identity.

I've learned that fear is almost never a helpful motivation for me when it comes to making good, solid decisions. Nor is pride. And the reality was that I wasn't connecting more deeply with my community because I stayed off Facebook - quite the opposite. It helped me remain in the shadows. A lot of my friends shared lovely pictures, reflections, and family news on Facebook, and I missed out on connection by not becoming a part of it.

So I joined Facebook. I didn't tell anybody for two days, then my sister helped me find the courage to make some friend requests. It turns out that there are people who are willing be my friend and even like me. Although it's still a little scary to go to Facebook, I'm getting braver, and I'm learning that nobody minds a nice comment left on their post, even if it's from me.