I had no idea what to expect when we agreed to come to Carleton College for the Summer Computer Science Institute here in Northfield, Minnesota. We said yes last fall, before we even knew Chris would have sabbatical. It was one of those things that didn’t make much sense, but felt right. They offered us housing, though we had no idea what that meant, so the kids and I were planning to come, at least some of the time. I wasn’t sure how it would look if I was growing vegetables for other farm members, but sure.

When we learned that the Deffenbaughs were interested in house sitting, we both agreed that we should leave July 1st because we had housing at Riverside for family camp and Carleton and wanted to see family before we leave. It didn’t make sense to leave our place empty in July when the berries were ripe! That was before we even knew their lease was up in June. It’s fun for me to see these details orchestrated.

The week before we came up to Northfield we were at my parents, still wondering if the kids would be packing out the floor of a dorm room or what. I was figuring we would be back in Iowa for a good portion of the time, because Chris would be so busy with the camp and still keeping up with his nearly full-time contract job that is funding our trip to Brisbane.

All that to say, I never could have imagined the gifts in these three weeks here! This place is incredibly generous. We ended up living in our own 3 bedroom apartment with a washer and dryer, right on campus. They gave all six of us three meals a day in the dining center. So I didn’t have any housework or driving to do!

Even so, things were pretty challenging with the kids the first week and I was ready to head back to Iowa for help and more goodbyes. But Chris wisely encouraged me to stay put and give the kids the stability they needed. I have never regretted listening to him. We found a wonderful routine of exploring our new community on foot and staying home enough for creativity to blossom and conflicts to be dealt with.

I learned some really important, and not so important, things about the kids. Like just how much citrus fruit Stewart can really eat every morning! And how excited Twill is to grow a beard. And how inventive Lewis is at breaking into our apartment when we found ourselves locked out! And how deeply Wesley wants to keep up with his big brothers. They’ve needed me to be present and strong and this retreat, of sorts, gave me room to grow in these.

They learned a few things about me too. Mostly how to pop bubbles with bubble gum. And how much I love the book “Maniac Magee,” and dream of having a friend from the other side of the tracks. I cried because we finished it yesterday.

I learned some things about and from Chris too. I learned that he really would rather be with us, even in our chaos, than not. I believe this on a deeper level after the past few weeks and it’s pretty huge for me.

He really wanted us to stay together, even though it didn’t make sense to me to add the stress of parenting to the unbelievable load he’s under. But he consistently sticks by the idea that family sticks together, that’s what it means to be family. It was amazing to see how we could grow together, just by sticking together.

It reminded me of the place where Jesus actually does compare us to seeds. He says,

“Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds onto life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.” (John 12:24-25 Message)

I know Jesus may be talking about big, eternal things here, but it speaks to me a lot about family life. Every “yes” we say to each other, when I want to go to Brisbane, or Chris wants to go to Northfield, or stay in Northfield, or the kids want to climb a tree, or teach us a game they invented, or tell us a story–every “yes” said in reckless love sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. We really are so much more together than on our own.

So that’s Northfield. I will share a few pictures in another post.

The boys wanted to share what entertained them the week before we left home when I was in a frenzy of cleaning and packing.

Friday, July 18

Chaos describes my day perfectly. Tempers and tears, hurts left and right, everyone itching for a fight. We’re here at this pristine, private school where Chris is teaching a summer course for three weeks. Everything is perfect around me. Literally, there is nothing to complain about. If something breaks it’s fixed the next day. But I feel completely uncivilized, because my children won’t listen to anything I say, even if I raise my voice.

Today I actually had a plan that I was excited about. Most days I don’t. I follow my childrens’ lead, and celebrate that I have self-driven children, while lamenting that I am not a self-driven Mama.

We were going to play “camp,” because we just had a great week of family camp at Riverside in Story City, Iowa where I was a counselor 18 years ago. Just like at camp we were going to sing songs, then read a bible passage with the Insights/questions/applications method that had worked so beautifully at camp. Then we would pray about how we could love for the day. It didn’t take long at all to remember why I don’t usually have a plan.

Right off the bat we were interrupted by a maintenance man. The singing turned into a colossal fight over which version of the Hippopotamus Song we would sing, and only one out of four was left to read the passage with me.

When I was reading to Stewart he told me that I give too many details when I talk. It hurt because it’s true. I don’t know why I resist this insight so often from the males in my family. I know that I need to listen if I want to be an effective teacher and have better relationships. But I proceeded to lecture him on how women have more words than men and mine have been so unwelcome for years. Again, an uncivilized pity party.

Stewart’s attempt to love even fell flat. He had worked hard to make a game on paper for Twill, who didn’t want anything to do with it.

So it was a whole yucky day of nothing but fighting, with this residue hanging over me of “Did it really have to be so awful? Why am I such a failure?” But in the background was a stronger, calming voice whispering, “It’s not over yet. Everything is redeemable. Everyone is redeemable.”

Even in the midst of the messiness I heard myself telling my children the truth, that I like our family because we do the hard work of staying home and fighting long enough to learn how to get along.

Maybe it can’t be avoided, the fighting, if it really is okay to be messy and real at home. It feels good to know that no one is going to bail just because we all stunk it up today. We’re a family and that means learning to love each other at our worst. And we do like each other even more after sticking it out through these yucky days.

The good news is that after two days of staying home and fighting we hit that magic sweet spot where we’re enjoying each other’s company more deeply, without constant distraction. We started making obstacle courses that lead to musical chairs that lead to a scavenger hunt, that reminds me why I enjoy not having a plan.

Tonight I started rereading Madeleine L’Engle’s book, “Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art. She described art (including music and writing, etc) as “cosmos from chaos.” It compelled me to write about the beauty in my totally chaotic day.

Addendum

My negativety towards planning the other day is totally a personal battle. Playing camp went much better with revisions, namely fewer words. Plans with the kids can be helpful, with flexibility. Especially if they’re in the spirit of writing and gardening, where I love revising and weeding.

Last week my family helped me find a name for my blog. My husband, Chris, came up with this one and I love it. If you know me well the name will not surprise you at all, but I still want to offer some deeper explanation.

First, I do need to share some honorable mentions, because there were a lot of good ideas, and a lot of laughs!

My oldest son, Lewis, had a lot of fun playing with my name. He suggested:

Cedar Barks

Cedar’s Roots and Boughs

My father, Dan, suggested:

Danny’s Daughter’s Deckchair (from the movie “Danny Deckchair,” set in Australia)

And Now You Have Read Cedar

Mom contributed the sharing life byline, because she knows how I value that. There was also a lot of talk about “Herding Kittens,” because we love kittens in our home and can relate to the sentiment quiet a bit raising four young boys. Chris also suggested “Wilding the Tame,” because he knows how that speaks to my parenting goals.

Many suggestions were specific to our adventures “Down Under,” as we left home 3 weeks ago and are flying to Australia 2 weeks from today for Chris’ sabbatical. But Chris is optimistic that I will want to continue blogging after we return from Australia. So while the purpose of it right now is to share our big adventure with all of you back home, it will continue to be a way I can share life through writing, wherever we are.

So “Seeds and Weeds” definitely stems from my love of gardening. My favorite parts of gardening are planting and weeding. Honestly, I need to grow for others to get the harvesting done.

What I love about planting is getting my hands in the earth, really. I also love the miracle, the potential in the seeds for life. I just “tuck them into bed,” as we say, and God does all the work creating so much bountiful life! I think we’re all like seeds, with incredible potential for bearing fruit. But I love that Jesus does not compare us to seeds. He says we are the branch and He is the vine. That’s a bit different, if you think about it. As a branch we are part of an already established life. Cut off from it we have no potential.

Jesus compares the words of God to seeds, and talks of sowing them generously. So I hope to share encouragement as I live life, knowing it’s only my connection to the vine that will produce fruit.

What I love about weeding is getting dirty and intimate with the plants. It is satisfying work to see a clean bed, much more fun than any other kind of cleaning, yet similar.

When I was a child I was vehement that “there is no such thing as weeds!” I loved dandelions. That’s a bit of an understatement. They were my favorite flower. I defended them fiercely and celebrated them heartily, calling them God’s splatter painting of sunshine. I still love them, especially now that I have children. I think they are God’s gift to children, because children love to pick flowers (even boys!) and dandelions are free for the picking anywhere, anytime. No adult will miss one. Some would even pay you to remove them.

Now that I am an adult, and a gardener, I acknowledge that weeds are still plants, just out of place. I am not in a war with them, but I must remove them if I want any vegetables. And I enjoy doing it! I definitely uproot the dandelions from my garden and throw them out into the woods. I do not replant each one as my children sometimes think I should.

I think this is a beautiful illustration of growing up. When I was a child I thought that life was all roses. Dandelions were roses, essentially. When I would insist that, “there is no such things as weeds!” it applied on multiple levels. Sadness and pain were fleeting things to be avoided. As a teenager who began reading the Bible with fervor I was fascinated and perplexed by how much talk there was of joy in suffering.

But as I grow I value “weeding” experiences more and more. I am learning to welcome conflict with and between my boys and the challenges of working through it. My husband says I like fighting, and I can see a little truth in it, even though I dread conflict impulsively.

We watched an excellent Japanese movie this spring called “In This Corner of the World.” It was a beautiful portrayal of everyday life and how it was devastated by war. The main character marries a man she does not know, congenially. But when she runs into an intimate childhood friend, likely crush, there is finally tension in their marriage and her husband complains, “In all these years you have never shown me your angry face!” I find that a poignant illustration of real love.

Originally I wanted my blog name to somehow touch on one of my favorite bible verses that says, in essence, “The people are but grass, fragile as wildflowers. The grass withers, the wildflowers fade, if God so much as puffs on them. Aren’t these people just so much grass? True, the grass withers and the wildflowers fade, but our God’s Word stands forever.” Isaiah 40:6-8

I guess I like the idea that we are weeds, compared to our great God. I take great comfort in this reality, because I know that he delights in me at least as much as I delight in dandelions.

Finally, the name “Seeds and Weeds” is an expression of my two nicknames in life. I always wanted a nickname as a kid, and finally my high school basketball team gave me the nickname “Seeds.” Really is was probably “Ceeds,” short for Cedar, but it works on two levels.

My other nickname was “Cedar the Weeder” at Practical Farmer’s of Iowa, where I worked before I had kids. They used to auction me off to weed on farms, because I loved it so much and didn’t have my own land at the time.

So this is where we start, and only God knows where we’ll grow together.