A year in Review

I guess it's that time of year.

To reflect, to remember, to remind
To be thankful for this year--for the goods and the bads. And since we are bidding farewell to 2013, I thought I would make a countdown of 13 things about this year. This was a big year--bigger than any other, so a list of 13 things should be a good synopsis. This list may not be in the best order, but don't worry about that.

13. My crockpots are life savers. (Did I think an appliance would make the list, no, but realistically, this one appliance saved my sanity at least twice a week. Seriously--crockpot rice? wonderful!).

Photo by Laura Cebulski

12. Wine therapy.

11. Real attachment therapy. I am thankful to the depth of my being for a good attachment therapist who got us into his office soon after we got home. I am not ashamed to admit our lack of ability or our need. We would not have as much hope as we do if not for his guidance, understanding, and compassion.

10. My writing career. Yes, I will call it that. I started this year with a book offer which was turned down. I start this next one with agent submissions in the works and a much better book. And a sweet blazer. And soon a professional photo. I'm on my way, folks.

9. The grief of death is tempered by the hope of heaven. But the ache of missing crops up and reminds me that I miss my grandma.

8. Matthew 6:34. Never before in my life has a passage been so true. We made it by walking one day at a time.

7. Um, although I don't remember much about it, our family spent a month in Africa. And then the rest of the year locked in our house.

6. Phenomenal friends and family who have worked hard to understand and respect our new life and boundaries, who have provided food, friendship, and grace. (And a few who have spoken into my own blindness and prompted me to change my attitude.) There aren't enough words to say thank you.

photo by Laura Cebulski

5. I didn't get to read or relax as much as I would have liked--consequently, I'm a bit more stressed and tired. And I'm sporting this awesome stripe of soft gray hair in the front of my head.

4. Being blessed to be in the company of children who you really like, watching them open their minds to learn, being loved in the dark moments, loving them in theirs--this is the privilege of being a parent.

3. Realizing that as difficult a year as our family has had, there is no one else I would rather have by my  side than my sweet Husband.

2. Falling in love with my child--learning to hear giggles and sweet songs as joy, grieving her previous life and loss, understanding how she will be marked for life, knowing our Savior is enough for her wounds, realizing it is an incredible privilege to be her Mother.

1. My God has been faithful. Sometimes silent, always near, ever compassionate, always providing, never failing. He is a good God to serve.

After the journey of 2013, I'm nervous to peer too far into the future. Who knows what the future holds? Certainly not I, but you know what, I'm not too worried. Just like all the rest, God's got it.

Writing is Perilous

And I'm talking more than just paperclips.

In fact, in all the years that I have loved writing, I have never received a paper cut from my work. So there is something else dangerous about it.

It's this: it seeps into every part of your fiber. And you can't get rid of it.

Case in point: I'm now having dreams about submitting my work to professionals. It goes like this: I get the head guy of an agency really excited about my work so he asks for a sample. Which is fantastic and I run to my computer, which happens to be in my parent's driveway. But no matter how hard I try, I can't get my document to open, then I can't get it to print. And the crabby secretary from the agency is staring at me out the window of her office with evil eyes. And that makes me nervous. So I get sweaty palms and I can't make my computer work and that makes me nervous and I get all flustered. Finally, it's been like 5 hours and I'm at my wits end, when the head guy comes back up to me and says you have 10 minutes. We close soon. I'm racing. Yes! The computer is on and open and will print--when I run to the printer, and there is no paper.

Ahh, it's everywhere….

To further my point, I have two other specific areas where being a writer is ruining me.

1) Everywhere I look, I find great examples. For instance, I watched Tangled with the kids a couple weeks ago and noticed that Max, the horse, is a brilliant character. And I started to think about how I would write him into a story. And I spent the rest of the movie paying attention to the shift of his eyebrows or the way that he jutted his lower jaw and wondering how I could write that picture out on paper. When I read, I note words or sentence structure or grammatical structure that strikes me as brilliant, moving, creative, disrupting. I may occasionally even jot down a couple notes. I can't just read without noticing anymore.

2) And this point is much more damaging. As a writer, I have an impossibly hard time teaching writing to my kids. Maybe there are other writers who don't have this issue--but I am teaching the basics: how to construct paragraphs and essays and use creative words and such. Currently, I am advised to have them add -ly words and use all kinds of devices to improve the quality of their work. Which is fantastic. Except that my rules, for writing fiction, aren't theirs. For instance, no -ly words. No 'quickly', 'quietly', 'tenderly'. They have even helped edit these words from their work. And now, they're insisting that they don't need them either. Ahhhh!! (Yet, they write some pretty great stories and are no longer afraid of my editing pen!)

The peril is real, my friends. And with a wink in my eye and a smile on my face, I extend my hand to you. Come join me in this perilous life--where there is beauty on the blade of grass, joy in the rising sun, sorrow captured in the souls of the broken.

(And if you don't want to write, I will gladly bear that burden for you!)

From Ms. Dorothy Parker  "If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favor you can do is present them with a copy of Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they're happy."

(source: http://aerogrammestudio.com/2013/07/19/23-tips-from-famous-writers-for-new-and-emerging-authors/)

I need your help

Okay friends, I need you.

And not in the "I-need-you-to-bring-me-a-meal" or "Rescue-me" kind of help (although meals and rescuing are always welcome!)

Actually, this is more along the professional lines of my life, and I think it's a bit shameless, but I'm asking anyway.

I am writing a proposal for my novel, The Unexpected Life of Genevieve Ryder. There are a couple agents I'm sending it to. Part of a proposal includes my marketing/publicity plan. I'm pretty sure that this blog is a decent platform for such things, but I need to build it up, so to speak. (And I'm pretty sure I don't have those amazing famous people connections that will allow my book to be read and endorsed--unless you are somewhat famous and would endorse it. ;) )

So, I am asking you for a little bit of help and a little bit of information.

First, the info: How do you follow this blog? Are you a Facebook friend? Are you someone who checks occasionally to see if I've written? What do you like? (What could I improve?--Okay, that's just something I'm curious about) Did you find me somewhere else along the way?
You can leave a comment or email me at sbeuker (at) yahoo (dot) com.

Second, the request: would you be willing to follow my blog? Over to the right side, you can be a follower of me or connect with google connect. Of course, if you are uncomfortable doing this, that's okay, but it would be helpful for me to say "I have 1,000 followers" (which would be awesome, but isn't happening tonight!)

Finally, thanks. As I think back over the years I've had this blog and watched it grow and the interest in it grow, I'm humbled that you have decided to come along for the ride. This next part promises to be pretty exciting. I hope you decide to stay around for that too!

My writing space. If only it always looked that neat! 

Back at It

Class photo from August 2013.
This year I have a 4th, 3rd, 1st grader & a preschooler. Phew. 

So, we're back at it after two beautiful weeks off.

Yep, I took two weeks off of schooling my kids in the middle of October. Why not? I'm a homeschooler, we started early, it's well within my right.

And I know you're jealous (of the two weeks off!)

But this morning we are back at it. I just printed off the kid's checklists and am about to wake them up.

Sometimes I think this homeschool choice will be the death of me--it's too much responsibility, too much work, too little personal freedom. There are days when I fight tooth and nail to get some child to finish their work.

BUT

There are other days.
Days where we laugh and sing and dance together.
Days where we all learn or accomplish something new.
Days where someone makes a breakthrough--whether in reading, spelling, math, focus, or obedience.
Days where everything comes together in a beautiful, harmonious way, maybe I even accomplish a household task.

I live for those days.

One of my favorite things is when one of the kids "gets it.' Like when Olivia can sound out and understand a new word or gets excited about doing math through playing store (on tap for today). Like when Katie spends extra time reading 'cause she loves the book or when she draws another picture because she loves art so much. Like when Josh struggles through a tough math concept all week--and then Gets It. These are the beautiful moments.

And I love who my kids are becoming. Of course, they are still kids and mess up often. But I love to hear about how they interact with peers and adults. I love how they ask questions (most of the time). I love the programs and classes that they are involved in this year and how they are growing because of them.

Because of the circumstances of our lives this year, school hasn't always been easy. But it is good. And that's what really matters.

We're studying the world and missions. Which of course includes a large map puzzle.
Which I quickly put away because it drives me nuts. 

15 years

Eric and Me at the top of the Gates of Paradise,
near Malealea in Lesotho, Africa

Since this day in 1998, there have been

a few tears,
two houses,
three cats (and one gerbil),
a lot of laughs,
some disagreements,
three kids in three years
a couple jobs,
a daughter from across the world.

Regardless of where we have been and where we are going, you have
held my heart. Wherever you are, I want to be. When you are gone, I miss you.

I love the sound of your exaggerated laughter when you are watching bad British comedy.
I love the compassion that is part of the way God made you.
I love the way that you know and hear my heart.

I'm so thankful God saw fit to put us together--that he saw that boy who liked a lot of different girls and a girl who was desperate to feel special. That he brought us together in Mexico. That we have been able to make our home in Him. That in Him we have been able to stay together and be stronger with each passing year.

I am a blessed woman.

Happy Anniversary, Eric.
I love you!

P.S. Here's my little gift to you. (It's all I could afford ;) )

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave (wave) is stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

Not everything is depressing

So, not everything is depressing in this life.

And I wanted to show you a precious gift I got this week.

My 92 year old grandfather met his newest granddaughter--in Utah.

This week, we've been in Utah visiting my parents while Eric attended a conference for work. (Don't worry--he hasn't skipped any sessions to hang out with us!) But for an extra treat, my last surviving grandparent came from Florida to be with us for a couple days.

We spent some time in the mountains. Obviously it was cold and bright and wonderful. 

Mali got her first taste of snow--and then insisted on eating it whenever she could. 

This is my mom, Kris, with my grandpa, Paul (my dad's dad) and Mali on his lap at the Aviary. 

The entire Keener family. 

Look, we tried to get an entire family picture but we couldn't get the timer to work, so Eric took this picture and then my brother took one so Eric is in one. But this is my family, from left to right, back row first: Leslie, my sis-in-law (with Olivia on her lap), my dad, Jim, my grandpa, Paul, my mom, Kris and my brother, Jay. In the front row is Katie, Me and Mali and Josh. There you have it.

 I was able to catch up with a life-long friend and watch out kids play together. Still remaining in this trip is a date night for me & Eric and meeting some new/old friends. 

These are the good moments, I just thought I would share some with you! 

Worn

I've written this post about 20 times in my head. When I finally have a few minutes to sit at the computer and write them down, my brain is empty, can't put together a single, simple thought, but for this:

I'm worn.

Life has this incredibly insistent way of marching on, despite family trials or adjustments or work schedules or individual needs. It just keeps going. Every day I have to keep getting up, functioning, doing the things a mom, wife, writer, person does. Life feels relentless.

As I write this post, I am standing in my parent's kitchen in Utah. The front windows show me a view of my most favorite place in the world, The Wasatch Mountains. When I am away from them, I crave their silence, purity, brightness, and away-ness. The mountains fill me with a peace similar to the peace I hear about from friends who love the beach. I visit the mountains and breath the crisp mountain air and I am re-balanced. I can again open my eyes to see beauty and majesty.

My dad has a small cabin, a wonderful oasis of simplicity up one of the canyons near our house. Usually on the drive up the canyon, I love that moment when the dirty valley air is replaced by clean mountain air. It's the announcement of my arrival, that for a few hours I can put away the mutiny of demands of life and just be. To listen to the wind, to appreciate the log fire, to watch the birds, to stop at every interesting rock or animal print on the trail. There is a corner you turn when you rise up out of the valley and suddenly, brilliantly the world is bright. The colors are sharp and pronounced. In this fall season, the reds, oranges, and yellows blend with evergreen for the most magnificent quilt.

But on yesterday's drive up, I couldn't see the bright. Everything looked dull and gray. I kept looking out the window, trying to figure out why that could be, what's wrong with the day. As it turns out, the morning light was just filtering in a different way.

They gray-ness stuck with me. It seemed to reflect the way I feel about so many things. My life feels gray and drudging.

There are so many different moments in this life. Beautiful. Heart-wrenching. Encouraging. Exhausting.

Here are just a few:

• Josh, Katie & Olivia are brilliant and fantastic learners and one of God's greatest gifts this year is that they are learning well. 
• Attachment is hard, grueling, every-day work. There is something essential that breaks in a child who is traumatized. There is a lot of healing taking place, but this is a deep wound. 
• I am editing my novel for submission to an agent or two. It's wonderful, hard, and very different work. 
• Every day I am already exhausted by 9 a.m. Some days I don't even want to get out of bed.
• Sometimes its a real struggle to keep going, to not quit or walk away.
• I am blessed to have enough friends who love me through all these kinds of days, often without me even having to tell them what my day was. 

But at the end, I am still worn.

I'm going to end this with a song that I've heard a few times. Every time I try to sing the words, I choke on them. This song becomes a prayer for me, for Eric, for Mali, for the kids. For us as a family. I am frail and torn, broken and weak. Redemption will win, but still, until then, I'm worn.


Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn

--from "Worn" by Tenth Avenue North