Skip to content

CategoryUncategorized

4.6.20 Monster Land

My kids have long loved The Princess in Black series for kids. The Princess in Black fights monsters who come up from a hole in the earth and cause chaos. Now more than ever,  this plotline resonates with me. Especially the fourth book with the invasive bunnies who take over everything. Bunnies and other unfortunate creatures come up from Monster Land. Corona anyone?

Since the letter of the day is “M,” we enjoyed maps, placing buttons on places in the world where people we know have been. We then did button math before the Monster adventure began.

My daughter made a Monster Land map complete with an imaginary capital city, Bunnapolis. We also made use of an old monster coloring book as my son went to town adding all kinds of figures to a larger homemade Monster Land.

img_2675My daughter then insisted we take our map out to the golf course on our daily mandela walk in case we spied anything. At the mandela, we brought along some of Sunday’s palms to ward off monsters.

How I wish we could ward off virus as well as the Princess in black attacks unwanted furry beings. I am grateful for ways that kids can talk about scary elements as they (and we all) find ways of being brave in frightening times.

In this Holy Week, we know tough realities continue to unfold. We are on the lookout for the pathway , knowing there is the painful route that leads through suffering. But, I’ve got some pretty special companions constantly by my side this year. I am thankful that they can help tame the monsters as we all long for Easter and a day farther down the road when we aren’t so fearful.

Meanwhile, we’ve all got our inner and outer monsters we are fighting in this season. Wishing you all the willpower to press on, friends!

img_2665

 

 

 

4.5.20 Palm Sunday

I don’t have adequate words to capture this day that was simultaneously wonderful, discouraging, and exhausting. Live worship. Palms waving remotely. Two tired kiddos desperate for people and fresh air. Stretching into creativity to live into the mundane and beautiful. Somehow entering Holy Week with hope and dread. Here are the bright spots, friends. Worth capturing some joy on this pandemic Palm Sunday.

The crowds gathered in anticipation:

img_2628

85b445df-874f-4610-9b65-f54d5bd27518

Continuing to chalk as this is the chalkiest time ever:

img_2647

A long promised “brinner” complete with caterpillar pancakes with carrot legs, blueberry eyes, green bean grass (schwoo, we are soone running low on fresh produce…), and little butterflies to signify new life coming.

img_2660

May all manner of things be well as the morning would come oh so soon. Next up, “M” is for Monday. An evening ZOOM with a close friend was balm for the soul. And now bed. Love to you all–

4.5.20 Mile Markers

Milestone:

“stone or pillar set up on a highway or other line of travel to mark the distance in miles.”

img_2596Our mandela has become our daily marker on our walking path. We’re always adding to it–today our purple balloon popped and it seems like a fitting addition to our stone pile after a tough morning in our home “classroom.” We Ring-Around-the-Rosied faster until we collapsed in breathless giggles. What a gift to stretch out on the field as the sun peaked out today knowing we’d be back to our little sacred spot as an ongoing stop for our stay at home.

…But the big milestone came today as my daughter took to her bike…without training wheels. This was the first time she got going on her own without a push or guidance! The delight on her face was priceless. In the midst of the bigger reality of the corona now, how precious to have moments celebrating her courage and persistence.

img_2616Perhaps the extra space and time sped up this moment–providing us more chances to help her along. And she has reveled in it. And today feels like just that, a milestone. When we consider what has happened in this time, I’ll recall the excitment, our excitement as the training wheels came off and she was ready for the next rides of liberation. I smile now.

What is this strange time freeing us into? What stones will mark the important pauses? For memorial as we grieve the losses. For joy as we grow into the next mile…

 

 

4.2.20 All Aboard for April

My son wanted to learn about locomotives today again. We watched a couple of videos about steam, diesels, and electric trains. I then had this idea that we should take our crawl through train outside on the short walk right behind our house on the golf course. We’d get inside and chug down the path. It turned into an upturned comical escapade I can only anticipate that I will be laughing at in the years ahead. Thomas the train kept trying to blow away on this breezy day. We chased him more than once.

img_2587We stopped and made chalk stops all the ways to our mandela in the home states of our families. We couldn’t seem to chug home fast enough. We trudged back up the hill to the house windswept and out of breath.

Out of control. Drifting. Determined and then overturned. Tired. Our little ill-fated train time was a mirror of the moment. So thankful that we could topple over together and get back up again to face the ridiculous challenge.

Thankful for the healthful space to roam and churn and veer off course. Thankful for the ways the kids played cooperatively. Thankful for the hours of worship planning with church folks that will help us move into Palm Sunday. Thankful for the catch-up time with dear college friends as we name the fears and hopes of our hearts in this upending season.  Thankful as ever for the health care and essential people out there chugging along to the destinations in need of whatever support that can be provided, impossible as it may feel at times. For the next addled adventures that await us and all the laughter that will come when we aren’t tripping over ourselves too much…

 

3.31.30 This Place Called Home

img_2525-1In the first year of living in our house, I was living out the grief of leaving behind our old house, neighborhood, friends and church. While we sought to make this new nest comfortable, it felt at times like wearing a starchy shirt when you long for the folds and softness of the familiar. Isn’t how change can be?

Being so close to home all this time makes me realize how comfortable I have become here as we approach our second year in June. It makes me recall how tremendously glad I am for the community that has formed while in Columbia, and a church that is always giving with all its heart.

And when I was still feeling a bit disconnected six months ago, I realized how much it was within my spiritual power to help create community. I think this part of the reason Balloon Pastor waving came into being. I wanted a neighborhood where there were signs of joy at each corner, so why not live into it? I wanted a block that continued to have annual cookouts, so why not help host one?

I long now for a community that remains connected even as we distance. We are doing intensive legwork at the church to help facilitate this. And now, I wonder, after all those months on the corner, how do I keep living into the joy and hope I hold not just for my little family in this geographical spot? I keep holding that hope for everyone.

Now we all face huge changes and uncertainty. Our hearts ache for those in the path of the virus. Our homes have become our havens and our retrictive quarters. Some are forced to live with others when the situation is not healthy or safe.

The prayer tonight is for home, wherever you call it so. As we are attune to all of the good stories coming out of our country and world’s coping, I give thanks for the home we hold together in virtual space.

img_2559

The golf course mower had taken out yesterday’s mandela, but we were inspired to create–on top of our old remnants–a sign of home among the daffodils, clovers, and stones. Here’s to the end of March and the advent of April.

 

 

3.30.20 Trapped

The groundhog ….with the golf course nearby it always makes us feel very Caddyshack when we complain about this cute creature. Issue is, he can be doing some real unfortunate damage underground with our foundation.

So the critter crew (they’ve been deemed essential they tell me), came and set a trap out for him today. And they got him a couple of hours later! We returned from our neighborhood bike ride. The kids yelled out. img_2553

Truth of the matter, I didn’t wanted to get too close. I feel bad about it. I even wonder how he is doing out there tonight in the little cage. I didn’t even want to get too close for a picture in order to offer some dignity? They’ll be coming tomorrow to take him. I’ve always felt bad about the prospect of him being parted from his home and natural rhythm.

My empathy probably lies with him tonight, too, as we remain somewhat stranded. All of Maryland is now on strict stay at home restrictions. We’ve been home except for closeby walks and bike rides. I did the one tiring grocery run last week. We’re all getting a bit cagey at times.

The letter of the day was “T” at my house as we learn about trains, so the trapping is appropriate–as well as tunnels and trash trucks and our discussion about the conservative use of toilet paper. And tantrums, well just the one when my son was displeased with the amount of honey on his toast. Terrible!

But there were many terrific elements. I got to meet a mom as we shouted to one another across the creek. I sat and snacked with my kids in front of our old mandela as they spruced it up again with fallen forsythia petals from the sidewalk. We took in the absolute beauty of brilliant sunshine and warm weather.

My daughter and I rocked out to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” this afternoon on the deck. And my son kicked off the night dance party by telling Alexa to play “Soul Man.” Boy, is he really getting to where he can groove! We’re taking it all in friends, and sending out two wishes: for your assurance in these tough times, and for the tender care for all those facing illness today.

 

 

 

 

3.29.20 Weekend Artistry

It was a full weekend with worship at church going live for the first time. What a gift to see so many faces!

The kids put on their Pete the Cat Cupcake production for our family online complete with baking (And also complete with my son clocking my daughter with a bean bag chair!).

We biked to the Sacred Garden where Saucer Magnolia blossoms abounding. My daughter became enthralled with creating a chalking pattern that church friends later saw and texted about.


And we are making it. We are grateful for the measures that are being taken by so many in this perilous time as we try to slow the spread of virus. We are on the lookout for joy and trying to share it as best we can.

On Friday, we had collected cans at a distance for Maryland Food Bank from our neighbors and dropped it at the church. Then Frank from the church delivered 260 pounds of food from the community. I’ve been talking to my daughter about what it means to be food insecure and the importance of trying to assist with food and other resources in this time.

She saw that the balloon on our lampost that had alerted folks to the food drop off point had deflated. She got our her little sketch pad and drew the balloon once again inflated. “Here,” she offered with excitement, “now it can share more joy!”

3.26.20 Heart to Heart

Tonight I got some heart-to-heart moments. I tucked my daughter into bed. We had read about some phenomenal women in her Women Artists book. I offered, “We didn’t have a book like this for me to read when I was your age.” “Why not, Mommy?”

As we were readying for our prayers, we talked why it is that we are staying distant from people. She asked, “Has this ever happened before?” I replied that we often see this every other generation or so at a big scale. “When did the last time happen?” I told her about the pandemic of the Spanish Flu. We talked and she asked questions. She took it all in and I gave her a big hug. “Now I lay me down to sleep…” we prayed.

PEN as doctorEarlier in the day, she had gotten out her scrubs that her uncle had given her for Christmas. She checked her Daddy’s heart: “Sounds good!” she was happy to report.

As I take in the extra snuggles with my children, I want to share love out there for those heading to to  care for the sick and suffering.

Thank you for the risks that you take in order to care for others in the midst of caring for your own families. Countless future women are looking up to you.  Thank you to the ladies who have paved the way for daughters to study, serve, and kickbutt doing important work on the home front and in the work force. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

img_2483

 

3.25.20 Lofty Goals

At my house, we are losing track of the days. The rainy days are particularly challenging. When we see the sun, we try to soak it in, convinced that a little Vitamin E can save us. Yesterday was miles better than Monday. Today was a few steps back. I have my kids involved in a long term project that will culminate in our putting on a play for their toddler cousin via ZOOM, and making cupcakes. Thanks to the book character Pete the Cat, some paper, and wooden sticks, we’ve got an illustrious game plan worked up.

img_2450

Desperate times call for elaborate schemes. What are your grand schemes this week? Have you given yourself over to some project at home that you had put off? Are you trying to tackle a huge stack of books that had collected dust at your night stand? Did you receive news of a month longer at home and start plotting for how this time would be different, or would be worthwhile in some tangible way, or would help you to reach some big goal or zen like mountain…? I say, shoot for the stars.

In our little world where imagination is a must with the kids, we proceed like our actions and dreams can have a big impact. I try to believe that a morning that starts with rain can nonetheless lead to fun discoveries. Even with headaches. I’m trying to  balance the uncertainty of this moment as my kids make sense of these new and challenging times in our makeshift classroom. I need hope as I field work calls and emails remaining in close touch with my congregation.

img_2452

I like to think that I am not half as bad a mom as I feel in the raw moments.  Thank goodness exhausting weeks will culminate with cupcake parties. I like to think that balloons and any bobbing sign of abundance will be welcome to remind us all of what day it is one day at a time. May any joy we can muster for the universe find those most hurting and lonely.

We dare to believe that little sun goes a long way. Crayons and tape can shift the choppy course of any afternoon. We need lofty goals that materialize now more than ever–the loftiest of which is that by staying home we indeed can make a big difference.

img_2451

 

3.23.20 Showing Up

“I am the boss and say I get more banana bread!”

This was just one of the gems from my 3 year old son yelled today. He had a tough day all around and thereby, we all did! The rain here in Columbia didn’t help as we headed into a the second socially distant week. I’ve heard from several folks that today was hard, and I believe it.

I understand the difficulty by the personal stresses here at the house and the communal stresses of a community trying to figure out how to live as church virtually. I don’t know it firsthand, but I hear the strains from health care workers and can only imagine the tremendous stresses of those sick and dying, as well as those with tremendous immediate financial emergencies.

I think it is important to post on such days–when things feel particularly heavy. It is a reminder that the call to joy is not just a call that comes at the natural moments when things seem smooth. The discipline of seeking joy each day means including the nearly impossible moments when cynicism, fatigue, and heartache dominate.

I consider joy especially now when it doesn’t make social sense and isn’t possible with my parenting to stand on the corner waving to traffic.

What it means to show up for joy in this time?

I don’t know. Living into joy seems easier when I can work with my kids to spell out “joy” with sticks and flowers on a walking path. I’ll keep trying on the soggy days like this one when it’s the last thing that my heart thinks it wants.

img_2435-1Joy often doesn’t present as a broad smile. Sometimes she sneaks up on a ZOOM meeting for stressed parents (as she did tonight) and laughs her way in. Or she looks like my precocious little boy comandeering my hiking boots and trudging them into the kitchen.

How about we let joy have the final say, even at the end of our sufferings: “I’m the boss! There will be more joy!” Hoping to show up tomorrow to whatever energy awaits..praying for you the same.

 

My favorite quote from Henri J.M. Nouwen: “Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.” 

 

 

3.22.20 Balloon Pastor Tales: Broken Pot

A Sunday School Tale for Kittamaqundi Community Church friends and beyond!

Balloon Pastor Tales: The Broken Pot

Listen for my mistake in the following video! Answer Below 

Link to the Youtube Cracked Pot Cartoon 

Copy the below images into a Word document and print. Make two copies of the big pot. Cut out the pot pieces and paste to the other pot.

Broken Pot Coloring Page

Broken Pot Cutout

Answer:

So, what was my mistake in the video? My daughter caught it! I talked about a man in the beginning part of the video, and then talk about a woman later in the story about the Broken Pot. Good thing we are called to live into our brokenness and imperfections! What do you think, when you consider the story, do you imagine a man or woman going to the well?

Be well, friends!

3.20.20 Letting Go While Also Holding On

img_2382 We are thankful for my son’s school who had virtual circle time this morning on ZOOM so he could see all of his classmates. His teachers have been giving us good “home”work to share, including yesterday’s  nature mandela. Today, we headed out to make some moveable word art. Here’s our “joy” for today. We also collected rocks to serve as our Scribble Stones. Here are our masterpieces pictured with a coronavirus headline.

img_2401

I relaxed into today–because it’s Friday? Because I am becoming a more flexible mom? A more easy-going person? Hmm. There was less of a schedule knowing we all needed to exhale a bit after many intensive days being the schoolhouse. Don’t worry,  I wasn’t a cucumber. I may have cussed in the garage and lost it when I couldn’t get my bike tires pumped.

I biked the kids in our three-balloon carriage past the waving corner at Little Patuxent and over to Vantage Point. While biking, we saw the church Sunday School Assistant. She was out to get some fresh air. We then saw the kids’ Sunday School teacher also out and about. How good it was for the kids to connect with, even from a distance, these two women who have showered such love on my children.

In the church Sacred Garden, our chalk masterpieces had melted from earlier in the week. So, we shared a bit more. My daughter got really into the foot stones that surround the pond. She was so into her work– determined to pass on uplifting messages. My son was in motion make circles, “Gotta take my run!”

And then “10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1,” I gave my kids a countdown as we neared our last turn to head down the hill for our street. How glorious as we all sailed down with sounds of glee. I felt such a release–the balmy wind and the sense of letting go into the moment (don’t worry, I also held onto the handlebars!). That is what I have been trying to do. Let go into the moment. And that is why, I looped the block and we did the descent again!

img_2399

I must have told my son ten times today that I love him as I snuck a kiss on the cheek. “Me, too,” he would say back–which kind of sounds like he also loves himself (which, don’t worry he definitely does), but it was right back at me and I took it in in a deep breath kind of way. How are you letting go into this wild days? Have you taken a joy ride?

 

3.18.20 Hope Springs Eternal

img_2320I didn’t know how glad I would be that we live by a golf course. Especially with the golf course closed, there are paths and stretches of open green space. My kids can take a nature walk and romp in our neighborhood without coming across many folks. I went on stretches of paths today I have not in my 21 months of living here.

Beautiful forsythia surprised us.

We also took a bike ride. I wanted to check on the church. That is something we pastors have a hard time not doing. I didn’t go into the building, but I took my kids by bike carriage to our Sacred Garden. I offered up some prayerful messages in chalk in case there were some dogwalkers that would be passing through.

img_2343When my son saw the statue of Libby Rouse and her dog over by our pond, he stopped and crouched pensively. He pointed over: “There’s a dog with her.” We’ve been learning about dogs this week and I was struck by his thoughtful consideration as if this was the first time he noticed the marble canine despite countless times playing in the garden.

My daughter took to chalking–adding her flourishes to my words and copying her own along with balloon squiggles and hearts.

On the way back after crossing near my waving corner, I saw one of the neighbors I have befriended through the season of balloon pastoring. “Hey!” We exchanged greetings and introduced him to the kids as they sat distanced in their little carrier. I wished him well as he headed to work.img_2345

I then looked up to see the man and car that had in the past offered me the middle finger. We didn’t look face-to-face, but I saw him see me and the carriage. Close-up today he didn’t seem so angry.

Funny, because there seems to be a lot of intense emotion all around. I know I myself have spurts of anger that come out during home school stretches. Sometimes it isn’t raising my voice so much as complaining or having unreasonable expectations of my little ones navigating all of these changes. I pray for patience, for guidance as I live into a new role. Pastoring and parenting in pandemic. Day 3 in the books.

May the photo messages of the sidewalk reach you in your sequestering: “Hope Springs Eternal.”–Alexander Pope

It’s supposed to rain tonight and I fully expect that our sentiments will be swept away. But that doesn’t mean we don’t keep sending our joy unto the world. For we all so need it…

img_2349

 

 

 

 

3.17.20 A St. Patrick’s To Remember

img_2293-2I hope that one day my kids will be saying, “Remember that awesome St. Patrick’s we celebrated at home together?”

May they remember the green scones with green sprinkles, the shamrocks all lined up with string, the shiny green ribbons in my daughter’s hair, the green balloons we attached to their bike riding carriage, and the doing an Irish jig along with Alexa before bath. Schwoo.

May they give thanks for the hour video call with my mother-in-law vet as we continued our learning about dogs. May they remember the long stretches with their parents–more time to play games, and have giggles and explore new wonders.

img_2305-1

May they have less memory of the stressed out look their parents exhange, the frazzled and strained moments, the constant sibling rivalry…Day 2 into isolation in the books.

Meanwhile, my church community is plotting some creative ways of being in the time ahead. May signs of life break forth and make their way into our homes and immediate neighborhoods.

As I continue to hear long projections of our socially distanced season, I ask for peace. I lift up continually those most directly in harms’ way right now. I find myself simultaneously wishing I could do so much more as a pastor, and also working hard into the moments that I do have for ZOOM, emails, calls, etc.

Here, on balloonpastor I lay claim to the joy I wish to see and experience in the world– even as we also recognize the suffering and take on necessary measures. So, my world, as yours, has gotten smaller in many respects…but don’t you also feel the ways in which it has expanded as we try to live in solidarity with the health of all?

Somehow, I can do a jig and keep an eye on the end of the rainbow with the deep hopes that our homebound realities mean lives saved. This is what I hope to tell my children one day when we recall the St. Patrick’s of 2020.

*Also, I give thanks for my forebearers who arrived from northern Ireland for indenturted labor (facing all kinds of exposure to any manor of ninteteenth century illness) and worked the railroads before settling in Mississippi.

img_2304-1

 

 

 

 

3.15.20 The Homefront

img_2276Yesterday I had stood outside the church with a member hoping to greet anyone (from a distance) that didn’t get the message about church closure. We held our balloons and were thankful that we could pass on in-person hellos to a dear person as we passed on the news of no worship. I’ve been encouraged by the ways in which church folks are caring for one another into this unprecedented time. I hope neighborhood folks are fairing well.

Today was a long one at home. We’re caring for our 3 and 6 year olds. I’ve got  ZOOM calls as we navigate things for the church. My husband is working from home. This is a profile much like so many families. So many folks are holding so much in this time of social isolation. And there are those on the frontlines of corona realities and care. Prayers are flowing deeply toward you this evening.

I’m committed to signs of joy that echo out from here even on tired days like this one with the prospect of countless(?) days in this home mode. Signs of some uplift in our midst: the efforts for some routine with a wall schedule.

20.03.14 Home School Schedule PEN

A homemade shamrock chain (can you find the four leaf clover?):

img_2288

And my kids learning about dog breeds in what we are calling “Doggie Week” around here. Maybe one day we will get a dog, but for now we are educating ourselves:) Tomorrow we have a facetime call with my veterinarian mother-in-law to learn about caring for a dog. img_2285

That’s all for now from the homefront. Hoping we can bike out and about on a warmer day tomorrow!

Here’s one last photo of a my daughter’s artwork from the weekend. Balloons!

20.03.13 Balloon Phoebe painting