Happy New Year 2017 Letter

Early December, setting out at Sandy Mush to pick our tree...

December 23th, 2016

Half the joy of life is in little things taken on the run. Let us run if we must--even the sands

do that--but let us keep our hearts young and our eyes open that nothing worth our while

shall escape us.  And everything is worth its while if we grasp it and its significance.

                                                                   -Victor Cherbuliez, French novelist,  1829-1899

Reflection and writing exact a cost.  A piece of me would rather not think past today, past this cup of coffee, past today’s to-do list. There is much to be said for living wholly in the now, sending a snapshot of the family and moving right along.  But, another piece of me instinctively knows there is worth and perspective in reflecting, “that nothing worth our while shall escape us.” Along with this webpage, we are sending along some physical cards this year for those who have not quite caught the internet wave or may prefer a physical letter.  I still love hard copies, crinkly newspapers and thick books too.  I like that I can hold them in my hands, page through them, take them anywhere, lose and rediscover them later among other things.  The physical has more presence; it shows wear and tear--it can linger.  

Thank you for your photos and greetings and especially for the occasional letter and hand-written note.  Even if just once a year for some, it’s nice to catch up a bit.  I’m glad to see your children happy and learn that you’ve visited many interesting places, but I wonder about the rest of your world too.  Maybe it’s just me, but I like knowing more, the ups and downs, to know that you have a few hairs out of place too.  Life is full of both joys and challenges.  Paul the apostle puts it this way, “Weep with those who weep. Rejoice with those who rejoice.” There is surprisingly solid comfort in having company in both states.

Steady rain, overcast afternoon, spectacular country in any weather.

This is our effort to share some of both. First, we are thankful for:

➽Generally good health. As many know, I had surgery in September of 2015 to address a precancerous growth in my transverse colon.  All went amazingly well and my recheck colonoscopy in July was clear.  I’m enormously thankful for early detection (I pushed for a colonoscopy at 46 based on family history) and successful surgery in the nick of time.  My recovery after the resect has been complete--beyond the scar and about 5” less colon, it’s as if I never had surgery.  Briggs also had surgery last fall to repair a torn labrum in his hip and remove a bone spur on his hip socket.  His recovery has been slower but steady.  We are grateful for all gains and that 2016 required no trips to the hospital.

➽Generally balanced teenagers...they may not think they are “balanced” because they are teenagers, but we think they are doing much better than either Briggs or I were at their age. “Raising the bar a bit, one generation at a time,” is our motto.  We are grateful for generally productive and happy kids (when they are not moody, sarcastic, or demanding, ha!)

David's idea of cooperating with photos.

➽A successful year for Briggs as a financial adviser at Edward Jones.  After five years of slogging away at his new business, I feel we are finally making some headway.  Business is increasing and he no longer feels like the new guy.  I’m thankful that he’s able to use his talents to help people navigate their finances--such a useful and needed vocation.  In July, he hired a new branch office administrator (BOA), Susan, and she’s been a tremendous help.  

➽After 13 years of homeschooling, we will graduate our oldest, Grace, this May.  It’s a bit like being married for 22 years, I can’t quite figure out how we arrived here, but hey, we did!  Coming to the end of at least one piece of this marathon effort is bittersweet, satisfying and relieving all at once.  What’s next for Grace? Who knows.  Maybe college, maybe a gap year, but let’s take time to savor graduation.  We rush life too much, no?  

Our oldest, Grace, intent on capturing the moment.

➽For time with far-away family.  Over the Thanksgiving holiday, we ventured out on a 16 hour road trip to visit my family in Boston.  It was great to catch up with all three of my sisters (two live there and a third flew in) along with their ever expanding families--numerous nephews and nieces, along with grandnephews and grandnieces.  While reflecting, we sisters realized we hadn’t shared a Thanksgiving together in at least 18 years, another “how did this happen” moment.  For a moment at least, it was good to all share the same room.

Love the oranges, browns, and yellows in this scene

Some of our struggles:

➽Fighting for time for family and for each other.  As good as work is for Briggs, this season of his work demands much time. For the past five months, he’s been working six, sometimes seven days a week.  Having teenagers pulls our family in different directions too as their worlds widen and grow more complex.  Grace, now 17,  has her full driver’s licence and is gone often, working at Chick-Fil-A or taking dual enrollment classes at the community college.  David, turning 15 this January,  is not far behind; he’ll get his provisional permit in January. Growing and changing by the minute, David is alternately sleeping, studying when necessary, staring at a screen, picking out tunes on our piano, or out and about with friends.  He’s newly involved with a FIRST robotics club which promises an intense spring competition schedule.  This along with Boy Scouts and Youth Group activities means he (and we) will continue to go, go, and go.

A muddy somewhat picked-over hillside--very slippery

In fact, David slipped in the mud, yah...not cool.

Not a video, but for posterity, here's the tree we chose, a White Pine.

➽This teen season of life is not as charming or straightforward as the childhood years.  Gone are the cute expressions and bright toys.  Instead our home is full of growing pains and searching--mentally, physically, spiritually.  This season demands fresh stores of patience, wisdom, gentle guiding, and a need to step back---all this when we’re truthfully often tired and longing for clear-cut solutions.  What I wouldn’t give for a little less drama each day.  Also, this season requires endless driving between outside homeschool classes and activities, which like the blur of dishes, meals, and grocery trips, I’m learning to accept.  Rose, at 12, is our last touchstone to simpler times, though she has one foot fast in adolescence, pivoting between the two.  Depending upon her company, she may be playing with dolls or or asking me if this or that outfit “looks okay.”  Yikes.  Our zipline is quieter these days--the grass has grown back over the worn path.  The swings are still used, but mostly for reflection.  I can’t remember the last time someone went down the slide.  The “first” moments of our children’s lives arrive with  fanfare--we remember, document, and memorialize, but I find the last moments quieter, tender.  Half-aware, it’s easier to let them slip by.

Not happy about the mud OR rain OR trip (we made him late for Youth)

➽It’s been a year of recalibration and adjustment with homeschooling.  This fall was a particular mess. In August, one of our linchpin tutors stepped down, retiring abruptly two weeks before classes were to begin. As all three of our children were taking multiple classes with him, this was a landmine in our schedule.  Homeschooling keeps you flexible, that’s for sure, but truth is, we are still reconfiguring.  The upside is that we’ve had some terrific new classes through a homeschool group and are growing new friendships, yet academically there are still holes to fill and things to tweak.  Always the tweaking….  

Not happy about the White Pine, Christmas "ruined" without a Fraser Fur.

➽Without dragging you into the mire, our local church has had a rough but growing year.  Why bother to share this? Because faith requires persistence, overcoming obstacles, and I feel that we gloss that part over too often. Difficulty in the Church is not new; the book of Acts and Paul’s letters are full of church drama.  When Jesus was most vulnerable, Judas betrayed and Peter denied--yet, the Church prevailed.  The broader message stands: despite our shortcomings and screw-ups, there is hope for us all.  Perhaps a better question is “why are we still surprised when people fail us?”  Most of us realize we are adept at disappointing others and ourselves in small and big ways, yet failure still catches us off guard.  Jesus knew better.  I think of John’s comment:  “Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people.”  We would do well to hope less in people and hope more in God.

Tree trailing us...

➽Finances--even though Briggs’ business is going well, we are still, by planning and choice, a predominately one-income family with three children who have increasing financial needs: college, braces, classes, activities, driving insurance, and cars.  All of these, along with the usual bills and increasing food expenses mean we are stretched tight and tighter.  Our 1956 house is old and needs work.  Things break and wear down.  Yes, I could and do “work outside the home” by administering homeschool testing to offset bills.  But, we continue to view homemaking and homeschooling as my primary vocation, an increasingly rare counter-culture perspective we realize.   

➽More health stuff---at 47 and 51, although we are thankful to get past the surgeries, we are still struggling with aspects of our health.  Briggs’ hip is mostly, though not fully, recovered.  He’s found stretching and exercise most helpful, but it’s hard to be consistent.  I’ve had chronic pain with my piriformis muscle/sciatic nerve since July despite various consults, tests,  and therapies. This difficulty has increased my empathy for and awareness of those who struggle with chronic pain as a permanent way of life.  Both of us could stand to lose weight and maybe some stress too.  We feel like we are bearing a lot and look forward to some release, though we’re not sure when it’s coming!

The only child who would cooperate at this point for a picture--Grace, our good sport of the moment.  

We’re hanging in there, enjoying both the challenges and rewards of this life.  When discouraged, I think of a favorite passage from Romans: “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment.” Interestingly the root meaning of “problems and trials” is literally pressure, to crowd.  It’s much like the “pressure” we intentionally place on our teenagers at times---never enjoyable from either end but undeniably necessary and productive nonetheless.  We believe God permits and uses such pressing for our ultimate good and His glory.  Yes, the particulars remain mysterious and challenge us at times, but we are thankful for His patience, wisdom, and gentle guiding. He does not tire as we do, unchanging amid all the running sands and change in our lives.

All the best to you and yours in 2017.  Our prayer for us all: May we be pressed just enough to produce endurance and character, that these would yield hope.  May our hearts remain young and our eyes open that nothing worth our while shall escape us--or at least not too much. ; )

Grace took this one from the muddy hillside---beautiful and peaceful--at least in the photograph.

Housekeeping from Generation to Generation

I scanned this essay to preserve it.   My mother-in-law, Elaine Hamel Price, wrote it for a class of her's--probably back in the late 80's.  If I could connect all the dots in my world, I'd ask her for an exact date, and she could probably provide one; her memory is excellent, much better than mine.

As the youngest in her family, and because her family life was a humble relic of the older rural South, Elaine's recollections are reminiscent of an even older generation.  I also find the comparison's between housekeeping in the 1970's-1980's with housekeeping in the 1930's interesting.

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2002 Christmas Letter

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2015 Christmas Letter--imperfectly unpolished, but put down for the record

Some like to reflect upon life and others prefer to stay busy with the doing.  For the doers, these types of letters are “sideways energy,”  I can’t help but hear their snide asides when I begin such an effort.  Each year I’m tempted to tell them, “It's ok, don’t bother reading on then, just throw this away now.”  I imagine they do.

I've felt a lot like this volunteer Floristan sunflower this year--unmoored
and surprised to have volunteered for the unexpected.

There is another camp that likes to use the annual letter as a means to elevate whatever they are most proud of in their lives (and do the same on Facebook).  I don’t think they perceive their letters or posts in this way, but their highs can leave me feeling inadequate.  I hate playing the comparison game, so please excuse yourself if this letter hits you that way.  Not my intent, truly.

All the same, I still like annual letters. Perhaps it’s the voyeurist in me, but I like knowing the details of other’s lives.  At minimum, such letters inform me. And the best ones are worth three chirpy ones---because for a handful of moments, they connect me back to someone I don’t often get to connect with. They leave me feeling slightly less alone in areas of my own private struggles.

Here, our year has been a year of transitions and shifting landscapes, of irregular schedules, of much flurry followed by extended periods of silence, waiting and recovery--physically, spiritually, emotionally.  I’m tired in some areas, more impatient in others, but grateful in all regards.

Grace and Rose the day Grace got her braces off--her one wish was potato chips (something she was forbidden to eat by Dr. Scanlan when she had her brace.

Grace (16) is a junior this year.  She’s had a year full of what you’d expect for a junior--the peril and exhilaration of learning to drive, the weight of heavier coursework along with a growing distaste for upper level math (sorry Dr. Swann).  And, there is the weight of moving closer to the close of her high school years...the growing and uncertain weight of what comes next, and the exhausting work of trying to figure out your how you are built, what you value, how to use your giftings best.  I hesitate to tell her that much of that work never ends.

Grace's first formal

She is navigating these years better than many---certainly better than either Briggs or I did--but these are difficult years all same.  They can feel like a ride on a neck-snapping roller coaster at times, one day of exhilaration followed by the sinking feeling you get when you crest the hill. I’m left with the feeling that I don’t know this track well enough to enjoy it yet (ah, the plight of the first born). And the sad truth of adulthood is, honestly, I’m not always up for the ride.  

Yes, she continues to homeschool, all three do, though as the children get into their upper years, I’m finding my role becomes more of a general contractor and taxi cab driver than immediate teacher.  Her coursework has been a mix of a few excellent private teachers and some dual enrollment through our local community college.  This gives her a taste of college-level work (ironically easier than her homeschool private teachers) and a free head start on her college credits.  She had an excellent experience with her biology class at AB Tech this fall and looks forward to more coursework there her senior year.

David (13) is in eighth grade now.  I love the ease, common sense, and quirky wit of the boy.  Generally, he takes life in easy stride---sometimes too easy of a stride, but I know from experience that self-discipline can have a long trajectory!  He gets his work done.  Eventually.    He’s most happy when pursuing his own eclectic interests (how the best way to do something, or odd bits of trivia which I wish I had more time to process but don’t).  This year David has transitioned from one homeschool model and group (Classical Conversations, a classical model driven by tutor-moms/dads) to another (a mix of a few cherry-picked professional teachers).  It’s been a good move.  I think he’s benefitting from the increased male presence (both teachers are male), consistency, and accountability.  

He continues to enjoy scouting and just achieved his Life ranking last week (for those oblivious to the structure, this is the last rank before Eagle).  We are encouraged by his progression through scouting--and quite honestly, not so much that he would achieve a certain “rank,” but by the structure and discipline of the program when structured as intended which gives the boys opportunity to develop leadership skills as they work themselves through the systematic set of demands that the ranks require.  

As I grew up with three sisters and no brothers, I was not familiar with any of this until I walked through it with David, but Briggs grew up with scouting, and I’ve come to respect the process of the program and think that when done right, boys can benefit greatly.

Both David and Rose have taken a chess class over the last year, and that’s been good for them.  David enjoys it.  Rose endures it.  Also, David’s decided he’d like to pursue piano again.  Half the time I feel like I am beating him over the head with mandates about what he needs to do, and the other half of the time, I’m so distracted by the girls that he blissfully escapes my attentions.  He makes me laugh when I am sad.  He gets me, and I hope that I will have more time and brain power for his wit and whim in the future.

Rose prefers to be beside me, just as she is right now.  When we considered our plans for the coming school year, her request was “I just want it to be you and me,” so that’s pretty much what it’s been.  She’s been heavily involved in Classical Conversations through the years, and as we stepped back from that, I think she welcomed the break from its persistent rhythms and demands.  In August she decided she’d like to play clarinet, so she spent a week in the summer in “band camp” and has joined a homeschool band that meets once a week.  If you asked her what she likes about the clarinet (I always longed to play flute but was dictated the clarinet), she would tell you that she likes the way it’s “all black and shiny” and the way it sounds.  

Rose has a fabulous sense of humor which comes to light only when she’s opened up to you (this can entail a handful of encounters or years just depending).  Once she told me that she’s reserved because she’s “just more comfortable around some adults than others” and has to make up her mind if she likes them first.  Me too. ; )  She has an intuitive and sharp sense of discernment about people, places, and things which I hope will serve her well, particularly in her teenage years.  She is a natural salesperson, adept at wooing you to her perspective on a matter (ah...the wily youngest, always scrapping for their place).

This year she talked Briggs into a cat (something I believed impossible because he swore them off for years due to fears of allergies). But, here we sit this December with not one but TWO cats in our home---Pascal, an orange tabby who came from our local animal rescue Brother Wolfe, and Nimbus, a “grey fluff-ball” as she calls her.   Nimbus used to live in the gutter down the street until Rose found her walking up our street one afternoon.  She has a way of working her magic on both people and animals.

Briggs and I are both very thankful for our children---despite the rollercoasters and continual demands of parenting--the children bring such richness, love, and depth into our worlds. I am certain that our children make us better people because they evoke the best and worst in our characters.  I find that our children can bring me to my knees before God quicker than anything else and that I will rally and do for my children what I would not be inspired to do otherwise.  We thank God for the privilege and blessing of parenting….nothing else like it!

Nimbus--Rose's stray recruit--cat #2

As I mentioned earlier, my year has been transitional in many ways….I’ve stepped back from being heavily involved in teaching and dedication to homeschooling through the Classical Conversations model and moved into this stranger territory of limbo. 

Homeschoolers do much of their planning for the coming school year early in the calendar year (most of us making decisions about classes and such in March, and I have always been on the early end of the early end of the thinking process), so I made the decision to step away from CC about a year ago now.  It was hard to let go of the comfortable and familiar (I’m the loyal type that would drive a car into the ground before getting a new one), but as Solomon told us in Ecclesiastes, there is a time to keep and a time to cast away…

Partially because of this decision, I recall spring and early summer as rather lovely---a time of much letting go and casting away.  Is it me or do the years feel heavy at times?  I delighted in casting away pieces of our schedule and plans that were no longer working for us. 

Late May brought a lovely trip to DC (where I spent most of my high school and some college years).  Briggs was unable to go with us because of work demands, but the trip was refreshing and joyful.  I haven’t been to DC in at least a decade, and the city, though ever-changing, felt much like an old friend to me.

In the doldrums of summer, late July, I had a routine but early colonoscopy which revealed a “mass” in my colon (call it a mass, call it a polyp, at 4cm, it’s not what you want to wake up out of your “twilight sleep” stupor to hear).  Thus began a new season of much sifting and weighing… first the biopsy results (thankfully precancerous, though with such a small sample no guarantees on the entire mass), a surgical referral, consult, 2nd opinion, surgery, pathology results, hospital stay, and home recovery.  What sounds simple ate of all of my energy during August, September (surgery mid-September), and most of October.  The surgery involved removing about a foot of my large intestine and 12 lymph nodes for pathology.  Blessedly, the pathology report revealed that the entire mass was still pre-cancerous (though just barely) and the lymph nodes clear.

Of course, this is all just nuts and bolts of the matter.  The watershed of it all is much more, on which I’ll comment in a bit.

Briggs has also had his share of challenges this year.  His work at Edward Jones, which he loves and is gifted at, still demands a very dear piece of his mental, emotional and physical energies.  I’m grateful that he is pursuing something that he loves and sees fruit from--wouldn’t trade that for anything---but there is always the weight of one’s own business.  It’s like a small child that you can’t ignore without a price--always requiring time, patience, consistency….

He was able to get away for a Boy Scout hike in June---quite a big one endeavor for the troop---the goal was 5 days and 50 miles on the Appalachian Trail.  During the spring, the troop trained to build up to this trip, and during this process, Briggs discovered that he was having increasing pain in his hip, the pain persistent and progressive.  

Mount Vernon

He consulted with an orthopedic surgeon who diagnosed him with a labral tear and hip impingement.  They tried steroid shots at first with some success.  But, he found that the pain persisted, to the point where he sadly but wisely had to bail 30 miles into his AT trip.  Later on he told me how he was popping a series of percocets while hiking each day with little effect.  Personally, this sounds like a sort of hell, doesn’t it?  Who wants to hike ten miles a day in pain while on sedatives? But Briggs wanted to share the experience with David--he’s a tough nut--and I’m glad that he was able to share at least a part of it, despite the cost.

David taking selfies with mom

We planned Briggs surgery for November, hoping my recovery would be well behind us by then.  And it was.  My surgeon was fantastic.  My recovery was exceptional.  Our friends, homeschool, and church community were incredibly supportive---helping with keeping all the

balls rolling as I couldn’t drive for two weeks after I got out of the hospital and Grace didn’t have her license yet.  Meals, driving, whatnot--they were such a huge help.   Briggs’ surgery also went without a hitch, and his recovery---still ongoing--is progressing nicely.

Happy sweet 16 to Grace

His surgery was thankfully out patient and laproscopic, though the recovery process has been somewhat more arduous than we anticipated as he couldn’t drive for a month and had all kinds of cumbersome and annoying equipment required to help stabilize his hip until it healed.  Thankfully, he came off the crutches last week and is regaining full use of that leg and building strength.

Though no one welcomes these types of intrusions into life---(funny how we feel fit to decide what we think is rudely intruding into our lives at times instead of viewing it as just another part of “life” no matter its rude nature), we count ourselves blessed.  Blessed by the discernment and conscientiousness of my general physician who listened to my concerns about colon cancer history in my family and pushed for an early colonoscopy.  The timing was merciful, just right, removed before it could bring greater harm.  Blessed by the casting off of some of my homeschool responsibilities early in the year that left me freer in the later part of the year to deal with all of the unexpected medical demands.  Blessed by privilege of skilled and trustworth surgeons.  Blessed by the lovingkindness of loyal friends.  Blessed by the opportunity to exercise our faith in the Lord’s provision actively.  Blessed.  Blessed.  Tired, yes.  But, above all, blessed.

2015--the year of two surgeries and a pumpkin growing in a sling.

And we have been blessed by the demands of all of these pieces of life---as much as we welcome certain favored pieces of life--the Christmas breaks, the summer vacations, the successes of our children, and the days when we feel like we are accomplished and making some sort of progress and difference in this world---these shiny moments are only signifcant when set off by the shadows---the stomach bugs of life---the increasing medical threats of growing older--the pressures of work and demands of life--our own weakness and the weaknesses of others--the stew of all the we don’t welcome into our lives but pushes itself through the cracks and seeps in regardless.  

There’s a myriad of ways to interpret such pieces--depending upon our world-view and faith, we are granted liberty--for better or worse to ourselves and to others--to frame them up as we see fit.   Me? I choose to view them through a framework of faith in Christ---even though I understand some of the pieces better than others, and some not at all.  Though the pieces differ in size and shape---though some are more appealing than others--when considered collectively, they all bear the hallmark of a hand much greater, more loving, and more relentless than mine.  Much of the work of my life has been learning to trust in them, to trust in the intent of the creator who makes the stars and ordains all the pieces…

At the Tourists Baseball game with Edward Jones folks

I could elaborate and/or belabor (and in the mind of those who prefer “just the facts mam’” have already), but I won’t.  Thank you to all of those who have ministered to our family this year--near and far--in big and small ways--we appreciate you!  May God bless your lives through your own pieces in His way, in His time.  May He give you eyes to appreciate them, even the ugly ones, the stressful ones, the unwelcome ones.  May He bless your Christmas season and 2016 with all good things.

Love,

Elizabeth, Briggs

Grace, David & Rose

“Don’t imagine I doubt for a moment that what God send us must be sent in love and will all be for the best if we have grace to use it so.  My mind doesn’t waver on that point: my feelings sometimes do.”  -Letter of C.S. Lewis to lifelong friend Arthur Greeves, 1949

More odd notes that never worked their way into anything I could pull together:

Write hard and clear about what hurts.  -Hemingway

To enter into the story is the most difficult part for me.  Once I grasp the ring, movement is easy within because once I have a whisp of where I am going, I am able to proceed.  Things I’ve learned this year:

*Loyalty is significant.  Some friends will rise to the top under duress and others will fall.  It’s good to keep honest short accounts of who is trustworthy and true.

*One never knows what a year may bring.

*God’s hand is working at all times and all ways.