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Jun 12 2018

Tradition

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Family. Home. These words remind us that we have a place. That we have a space and people to come home to that is safe and warm and full of grace and hope.

Home is a place to come and heal after mistakes are made, or to recover injuries from ugly words thrown around like darts at our heads. For us, family is about being the best “us” we can be for each other in times of joy and sadness.

Quite often, we forget. We get selfish, run behind, pour into the important and pass over the eternal. We fight. We stick with our correct and rightly defended arguments. We fuss over silly things and make room for unreasonalbitlty when our own self gets in the way.

Family is hard. Five personalities stretching and pulling and growing to boundless dreams and limits and further in to independence pulls at all of our hearts. There is pulling, stretching and hurting as growing pains do often hurt.

In these times, it is important for us to practice long held traditions. Practicing our family traditions remind all of us what makes a Wegner a Wegner.
One especially fun tradition Rob and I have kept since moving away from Chicago and deep dish pizza in 1993 is creating our very own likeness of our favorite. We make the pizza together, and eat. Our tradition has gone from the two of us, then Maddie helped us. When Maddie was old enough she would show Whitney how it’s done and pour the cheese like a pro. When Belle was old enough, she had four people to tell her how it’s done, so she usually does it her own way, which is what makes it even more special.

Since the girls were old enough to hold a spoon and stir, they have been our little helpers. Everyone matters in our family. Everyone is equally important an is needed to fulfill this task. There have been years our pizza barely made it through the process of being made because there were spills, tears, dogs grabbing a sausage and running away, but these are the real moments that make family family. We laugh so much when we are all together. Watching my girls grown in independence, creativity, boldness and humor have been the biggest joy filled surprised of my mommy-hood.

We come home at the end of the day to life, to love, to tradition, to family.

USE FOR ALL SOCIAL MEDIA-DO NOT edit crop out logo or print-90-Wegner Pizza Night March 2018

Thank you to Mike and Julie Storytellers for capturing this part of our Family Story


Jan 14 2018

This is Us

My family, my world. I am more grateful every day for the people God gifted me with, called family. We are not perfect. We are flawed–Pretty much all of us. But, we love. We forgive. We grant pardon, we embrace, we venture on, because This is Us. This is our family.


Dec 10 2015

Noel. Light Has Come

It’s Christmastime. Noel. Peace on Earth, good will to all. Light has come, and is in us and around us and through us if we just turn inwards, upwards and outwards and notice. Light is Come. Enjoy this piece of my inward, upward and outward journey toward Light.


Dec 21 2014

When Christmas Cannot Be Merry and Bright

IMG_0577.JPGI’m in a quandary this Christmas season.  We’ve been through the most difficult transition year of our married lives, our girls have said goodbye to all of their childhood friends, we sat in a room with a dozen friends we raised our babies with and sobbed.  Gut wrenching, heart aching, sobs.  I’ve never cried harder in my life than that evening, saying goodbye to lifelong friends.

In May we made the move from Granger, In. to Shawnee, Ks.  The best, but most difficult family decision we’ve ever made.  I’ve felt like an ocean has been moving under my feet since we landed, trying to get acclimated myself, get my girls acclimated, figuring out how to fix a new bathtub with new problems, how to keep the hot sun from killing my plants, and all that normal stuff.

And then in September, my precious Uncle died.  How do I tell my aunt, who spent years of her life dedicated to him, to Jesus, to their children…translating the bible into unwritten languages, whom she loved…how do I tell her to be merry this christmas?

In November, my cousin died.  He was too young.  Only 5 years older than me.  The thought of losing him does not ring true with “Merry and Bright” or a cup of Christmas cheer.

A mamma lost not one, but three babies, triplets, born too early this week.  They suffered through the trauma of the funeral of the first two, held out hope for the third.  He died.  Now another funeral.

The news…the news.  I cannot even bare to watch it with my children asking questions about atrocities committed against children their own ages.  I cannot even watch the news alone.

But I can walk in the darkness of this Advent hour.  I can walk in peace, with lots and lots of tears, but with peace.  Knowing my Savior was born.  He came to save a fool like me.  He came to abolish slavery, to set the prisoners free.  He came to love.  He came to forgive.  To teach us to love and forgive by what He did for us.  Born humbly.  Walked through His ordinary days like an ordinary guy, but holy.  Perfect.  Full of love.  Never casting the poor or needy aside if they did not match up with His holy critera for those worthy of His time.  He walked slowly.  He touched.  He held.  He healed.  He lifted heads.  He gave new names.  He brought joy.  He brought mystery.  He brought laughter.  He brought light.  He embraced the unembraceable.

He was the light.  And He is.  He is the lifter of our heads, the light in our darkness.  Forever.

Jesus is our hope in a very dark place.

 


Nov 19 2014

What Makes A House A Home.

Girls in Jammies

We sold our home in Granger, In. this week.  Done deal, handed the keys over, said our goodbyes from Kansas.  Starting over in a new home is a strange experience, especially since so many “firsts” happened in Granger.  The finality of it made me think, “What makes a house a home?”

What makes a house a home?

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A thousand memories .

Laughing, first steps, first bike rides, first days of school,  secret club houses and fairies in the bushes.

Flashlight hikes, hide and seek, bubble baths and dress up games. Monsters in the closet and under the bed.  Captured toads, snakes, and butterflies.

 

Tears, trials, slammed doors, quiet moments.  Hugs of confidence, apologies, forgiveness, honor.

Open doors, summer breezes, shared meals, inside, outside, around the fire.

After dinner dance parties, esteemed guests-pretend and real.

Secret hideouts. Secret handshakes.

Thunderstorm watching on the front porch, star gazing from the backyard hammock.

Sad endings, closed doors, goodbyes, see you laters.

What makes a house a home is the love that holds the walls up when everything’s pressing in.  What makes a house a home is the people that are there at the end of the day when everyone else is gone.

What makes a house a home is family.

Granger House

Goodbye Granger house.  Thanks for the memories.

Belle Jumping


Oct 25 2014

Beside The Still Waters And The War of the Worlds

 

 

Most of us know or have heard reference at some point in our lives to Psalm 23.  Bits and pieces come to us when we are feeling afraid, alone, or like we are being attacked by alien spaceships in War of the Worlds.  Ha–I am not joking that part of my subconscious sees the Priest in the old War of the Worlds movie walking toward the evil-eyed spaceship quoting the 23rd psalm. Then he gets zapped and turns to dust.   It scared me to death as a kid.  I always wondered why he was not using his brain and kept walking toward the ship instead of away.  At that point in the movie, I think the behavior of the aliens pretty consistently proved they were bad guys…so, while all of you are reading through psalm 23 with floating streams and quiet places and vivid images of gentle shepherds leading their sheep through grassy knolls, I’m thinking about the poor priest who got turned to dust.

Anyway…

I’m thinking that alien space ships were not on King David’s radar when he wrote his prayer to God, but maybe something like it.  A deeply distressing time that brought him to his knees, seeking the comfort his true Shepherd could bring.

So, however we get to Psalm 23 and whatever makes us think about it, the truth is the same.  God, our good, good God, will lead us in quiet places and walk with us in silence while the peace of the streams bring life back into our weary souls.  Nowhere in Psalm 23 does it say “Then God shouted at me because I’ve been such an idiot”, or “God threw me into the quiet stream and held my head under until I gurggled” I give up!”

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What this Psalm DOES say, all our own vivid imagery and associations with this familiar passage aside, is:

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
     He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
     he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
    for his name’s sake.
 Even though I walk
    through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
    forever.

Take a deep breath, breath in the Hope of a loving God who will walk quietly with you wherever you are on your path.  Know He’s with you.  Breathe and Hope.

Hope

*Grace and Peace*