Nicole K. Twedt

Being Brave When Life Is Hard

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Weekend Roundup, October 7, 2022: It’s Been a Minute

10.07.2022 by Nicole Kristin Twedt //

The electric buzz of caffeine ignites my brain and fingertips, compliments of a recent cup of Nespresso, or so it appears. It turns out Double Espresso Dolce is my jam, especially when served in a fall-themed Seattle tumbler from Starbucks with a heavy dose of Caramel Macchiato and Cinnamon Roll creamers, non-dairy of course. But the buzz has precious little to do with my beverage of choice. You see, it’s time once again to write.

To put it politely, a bit of time has passed since I last shared something new on this old gal (my blog). The last Weekend Roundup was over four years ago (gasp) when I was entering my second trimester of a much-wanted yet surprise pregnancy, emphasis on surprise. Naïvely, I assumed being pregnant would birth creatively but, as it turns out, pregnancy kind of sucked the life out of me (I mean this in the best way possible, I hope you know). All creative energy as I once knew basically shriveled up and died. I’m not at all being dramatic. Being pregnant at 39 and having a fourth child at 40 was a bit much, though it was the joy and privilege of my life, all the same. The aftermath of my son’s birth, however, was when things got interesting. Life was perfect, in a sense, or as perfect as can be with two adults, four growing children and a little hypoallergenic dog crammed in a 1300 square foot rambler in the outskirts of Seattle. My son, he was perfect in every way, except for a hearing loss not present at birth. Sleep-deprived me couldn’t think about it, definitely couldn’t write about it. I was blindsided, shell-shocked, my soul stripped bare.

Spoiler alert: God healed Noah, fully, completely.

To God be the glory.

Even now, I can hardly write about this unexpected miracle. It’s too wonderful for words, too holy to make sense of and also a little too horrible to relive.

And time marched on.

As babies do, my boy grew to be a tremendous and terrible toddler who grew into a ruddy man-child who now attends preschool at the little church down the road from our new home in Snohomish, Washington. It turns out raising four kids is the utmost splendid adventure on the planet but it’s one that leaves little time to scratch one’s head in amazement or in wonderment (and sometimes horror) of it all. But God has been prompting. It’s time.

There’s lots to cover after four years of not writing. So let’s just not and say we did. Let’s pick up where we left off.

Since it’s been a minute, how about I offer a refresher on all things Weekend Roundup? Long ago, I was part of a writing group called Hope*writers that grew to be a ginormous writing group in my absence. I haven’t exactly been an active member but I joined Hope*writers when the monthly fee was low. I’m not a life member but this group is basically stuck with me for life because I can’t afford to quit and rejoin later. The monthly membership fee has risen much like the housing market. I digress. Back to the Weekend Roundup. Roughly once a week I pick a few articles that I find intriguing, funny or heartwarming to share from the folks in my group that I hope will resinate with you, sprinkled with my own random (and I do mean random) life observations.

Since Noah will need to be picked up from preschool VERY soon, I’m going to dive right in.

This week, Hope*writer Jennifer Wier wrote a mini devotional of sorts on her website about the Biblical story of Hagar. Here you go. You remember Hagar, Sarah’s handmaiden. No one really talks about her. We hear more about Abraham and Sarah and their promised son, Isaac. I encourage you to take a minute and read this article. Personally, I’ve read Hagar’s story many a time but it never really penetrated my heart like it did today. So many powerful (and applicable) truths about God and how much he loves us.

Forget transitions, I’m taking a hard right with this one. I highly enjoyed reading about Queen Elizabeth from April J. Harris of Making the Most of Life at Home and Away. Here’s the linky-link for you. I enjoyed reading quotes from the late queen, more than I thought I would. But it’s more than that. Seriously, you can file this post of heartfelt and inspiring quotes under Personal Growth. What’s more, author April J. Harris happens to be from the south of England which means she has authority. Or at least more authority that someone who hails from the wrong side of the pond. I mean, I don’t even like tea unless Honey Citrus Mint Tea from Starbucks counts or whatever yummy tea my friend Afton served around the fire pit at our summer book club.

You need to read the next essay. It’s my favorite. Author Ann Averill wrote an essay titled I Never Wanted to Be a Teacher. Go ahead and click the link on her blog that will take you to the actual article because Ann was a guest contributor on someone else’s website. It doesn’t really matter what Ann writes about. She has a strong and memorable writer voice. Ann could write about dirt and it would be beautiful. But go ahead and read it because her words matter. To be honest, I almost didn’t read her essay because I never wanted to be anything but a teacher. I’m so glad I did. I would have missed out had I scrolled on to the next submission by my writerly friends.

Well folks, preschool has come and gone. So has the afternoon appointment with the dog groomer, and a quick trip to Target where I unfortunately stumbled upon Himalayan Salted Dark Chocolate Almonds which I’m pretty sure will be the death of me. The big kids are home as well. Emily is doing homework upstairs in her teen cave. Steven is supposed to be completing homework and Lauren is immersed in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which I have a soft spot for. Noah is probably tormenting our dog, Chloe. Greg called to say he’s on his way home to pick me up for a super HOT date at Costco. One must prepare for all that sexy. Maybe I’ll brush my teeth. I may even floss. If all goes well, I’ll see you back here next Friday for another Weekend Roundup.

Categories // Uncategorized Tags // Hope*Writers, weekend Roundup, Writing

Friday Share Day, June 30, 2017

06.30.2017 by Nicole Kristin Twedt //

Please note that I’m having a computer catastrophe at the moment, if you can call it that.  I’m trying to edit on a teensy-tiny iPhone screen.   So spelling and adding tidy links will have to wait til later.  My apologies.  

Today marks the last day of the Vacation Bible School my kids have been attending all week.  It’s actually called VBA at this church, as in Vacation Bible Adventure because who wants to go to school in summer?

Here’s a few pics of my three at the church playground.

Here they are inside the church lobby with their matchy-matchy VBA t-shirts, which have been washed exactly once this week because white t-shirts aren’t going to stay white so what’s the point?

The lighting is poor but the kids were being kind to each other, if kindness is a spectrum, and I wanted to capture the moment.  But really, I was also trying to take a picture of the iron-and-wood console they’re standing in front of but didn’t want to risk looking like a weirdo.

My friend Sharon took a picture of the console for me and posted it on Facebook.  She’s not afraid of strange looks.

Which made me think, “Well I can do that.”  So yesterday I took a few more pictures and ended up snapping a bunch of other furniture pieces.  I just couldn’t help myself.  Forget Pinterest, the church lobby is where it’s at.  Unfortunately, during my picture taking enthusiasm I had to reassure a small child that I wasn’t taking a picture of him, just the sleek coffee table and end tables next to him.  Weirdo.

Like most of my stories, the rustic yet contemporary lobby furniture has nothing to do with where I’m headed.  Except I mentioned it’s the last day of VBA which means it’s Friday.  And that, my friend, is what it’s all about.

It’s time for Friday Shares over at Hope*Writers, one of my writing circles.  Here’s the deal: they won’t let you share unless you’re willing to feature the work of two other writers on your blog or social media of choice.  I almost never share.  This morning, however, I had exactly an hour to finally edit The Rest of the Autism Story that I worked on a few weeks ago.  Perfection had to take backseat to the need to share back when it was originally published.  But today was the day for revision.  I doubt anyone will notice the difference between drafts but it feels better somehow.  It is time for the essay to find its way beyond my tribe of friends.  And that is why it’s Friday Share Day here.

The first essay that grabbed me is by Dorina Lazo Gilmore.  I originally discovered Dorina through her writing on grief featured on Kindred Mom, as well as her interview with Emily Sue Allen on the Kindred Mom Podcast.  Anyway, this one stuck with me becauses the subject is worship.  And worship, like writing, is one of the ways I not only praise God, but make sense of him, or at least get a fresh perspective on whatever I’m dealing with.  You see, it’s not just  me speaking (or singing actually) to God, exclaiming the wonders of his love, but it’s me hearing from him.  I’m learning once again that it’s okay to worship him with songs of singing when I don’t have the words for prayers or when I don’t know how to pray.  This concept was seriously a life changing lesson from back when we first began our journey with Steven’s eyesight.

I remember seeing this lovely essay a few days ago by Lindsay Hausch on Kindred Mom.  I could have written this about ten years ago as it reflects my feeling of loneliness as I adjusted to life at home with a wee little one during a time in my life when most of my friends didn’t have children or worked ouside the home.  This essay is also a darn good example of why I’m such a fan of MOPS, especially for new mamas and those running after toddlers.

Call me bonkers, but God speaks to me through trees, and plants of all sorts, especially whatever’s growing in my measly quarter-acre lot.  I’m hardly a gardner and will do anything to avoid the daunting task of yard work.  You see, I’m allergic to most of what’s blooming beyond my back porch.  And I’m lazy.  But it’s true.  I’m overwhelmed by the way he reveals his majesty through nature.  Perhaps it’s why this essay by Jessica Broberg spoke to me.  It reminds me of God’s faithfulness, and how nothing, no matter how life-shattering or confusing our current situation, he is there and is not taken by surprise.

I’m no baker.  Yet I loved learning about the slow process of bread-baking from Sarah Damska.  Also, I’ve been missing gluten.  That’s a lie.  I haven’t missed gluten one bit because my memory is hardly stretched when it recalls just how badly I feel when I eat wheat, or gluten of any kind.  But I do miss the smell of homemade bread baking in the oven.  Or how I imagine it to be.  I’ve never tried baking bread from scratch unless you count half-hearted attempts to figure out the bread-maker that was a gift from our wedding over twelve years ago.  Anyway, as you can surely guess, this piece isn’t really about baking but about the process of slowing down and discovering God in ordinary tasks.

Since all of last year was pretty much a series of transitions, goodbyes  and of dreaming new dreams, I could relate well to Faith Gibson’s essay on Seasons of Transitions and Relying on Jesus.  Amen and Amen.

Leigh Sain offers encouragement in the midst of a mess of LEGO.  Or is it Legos?  As a mama of three LEGO-crazy kids, I could totally get this one.  Leigh’s essay reminded me to see the beauty in the mess and how God makes all things new, even LEGO creations.

I haven’t blown up at my kids yet this summer.  Who am I kidding?  We’re exactly a week into summer vacation and the Twedtlings have been at VBA for most of it.  I haven’t had time to have a mama meltdown.  But I’m an imperfect person, otherwise known as a recovering perfectionist who deeply feels everything.  It’s bound to happen.  Soon.  Anyway, Jill E. McCormick’s essay reminds me once again that anger is a valid emotion, not a bad one.  It’s just what we do with our anger that gets us into sticky situations.  I mean, it’s what I do with my anger that gets me into trouble.  Anyway, it’s a helpful read for those of us prone to loosing it (raises hand).

Hopefully, I didn’t bore you to tears by over-sharing, but I couldn’t help myself.  I loved each and every essay linked here today.

Have a wonderful weekend, lovelies.

Categories // Weekend Roundups, Writing Tags // Friday shares, Hope*Writers, MOPS, Writing

The Beginning

02.22.2017 by Nicole Kristin Twedt //

Originally from June 2016

To make a long story fit into a tidy post, I’ll say that in the beginning I was a teacher.  To be precise (because I always like to be precise), I was a kindergarten and Pre-K teacher.  I loved being a teacher.  Teaching was life to my soul, it’s what I was created to do.

I’m a mama now.  I have three children, Emily, Steven and Lauren.   My husband is Greg.  I always wondered if I would return to teaching when our youngest went off to kindergarten.

After all, I worked my tail off to be a teacher.  I had a lot, and I mean a lot, of trouble getting into Woodring College of Education at WWU.   Due to a lethal combination of anxiety and test taking, I simply could not pass the teacher’s college entrance exam.

There’s always another way in.  I learned from a Woodring department advisor that if I changed my major from Elementary Education with an emphasis on English to just plain ol’ English, then I could reapply without taking the entrance exam after I earned my bachelor’s degree.

 

Something strange happened in the English Department.  I’d always been a voracious reader, and I’d always kept a journal.  But the writing aspect of being an English major both struck me and stuck with me.  Beyond analyzing plot structure and character development, I soon learned that writing is how I make sense of God, myself, people and the world around me.

Lauren, our youngest, is going into kindergarten in just a few short months.  I heard about a few teaching opportunities, one possible lead and a few actual job offers.  I still love teaching.  Why couldn’t I get excited about these teaching positions?

What I’m about to say will sound like I’m switching subjects.  Or I will come across as a crazy person.  Either way, I should mention that around the start of Lauren’s final year of preschool, God told me that it was time to call Mr. Turner and arrange for him to tune the old Betsy Ross Spinnet.  This tug on my heart to tune the piano went on for months.  But I didn’t do anything about it because it was so weird.   I didn’t think it could really be from the Lord.  I mean, come on, tune the piano? Why would God care about my old piano?  Yet I couldn’t shake the sense that I really was supposed to call Mr. Turner.  So I did.

Shortly after Mr. Turner tuned the piano, and I started playing again, the Lord spoke.

Sing a New Song.

What the heck?  I don’t sing.

Fast forward to a winter retreat in Seabrook with dear friends.   God took this tug on my heart, the one to Sing a New Song, and made it abundantly clear.

I never thought that Sing a New Song was supposed to mean whatever it meant in the Bible.

Except I was wrong.

Sing a new song to the LORD!  Let the whole earth sing to the LORD!  Sing to the LORD; praise his name.  Each day proclaim the good news that he saves.  Publish his glorious deeds among the nations.  Tell everyone about the amazing things he does (Psalm 96:1-3 NLT).

In other words, the time has come for me to bid farewell to teaching, at least for now.  It’s time for me to dream a new dream.

Now is the time to write.

N.

Categories // Family, Writing Tags // dreamer, Lauren, teaching, Word of the Year, Writing

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