insisting joy

You'll have to excuse my absence. The past two months have seemed like a whirlwind, interrupting and invading normalcy with such unrelenting vigor I thought I may not withstand it's pace. But Jason and I have experienced God's grace, we've seen glimpses of his reconciliation begin in dark places, and we've rejoiced in his kindness and goodness to us as we approach our wedding day. It's funny to think about what I pictured this season to look like. How I vowed will all the energy I could that it would be joyous. As if I was given the power to insist gladness from my days. It has most certainly been a season of celebrating what has transpired and what is in store. What gift we have found in our families and friends who have encouraged and counseled us along the way! But, as life has a way of doing, it has held circumstances we couldn't foresee. Honestly, I didn't always handle them with grace. Why now? Again, believing in my desires more than the truth that God so sweetly reminds us of in Isaiah 55:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts."

Oh yeah. Of course, they are. Oh, that His ways would be higher than ours. That truth is life giving, for in it we can surrender and trust. Knowing that God is not merely in this very moment, but in all our moments to come. Also knowing, he is deeply concerned about the refinement of his people, that means perspective may just take it's own time to take form.

I feel it impossible, and perhaps unnecessary, to try and share all that has happened. But I also feel it's time to be a little vulnerable and cease trying to insist joy from my days. Rather than insisting, I'm learning to appreciate it's presence along with the not-so-joyous things as well.

One story I must share, that is long overdue, will be one of my favorites to tell the rest of my life. A little tale of a clueless lady and a sweet gentleman that ended up in Chicago one Saturday morning.

longing

"For as the earth brings forth its sprouts,

and as a garden causes what is sown in it to sprout up,

so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to sprout up before all nations."

Isaiah 61:11

This morning I'm found longing. For more of who He is and more of his kingdom to come here on earth. Longing for the day that all nations will stand united before the throne of a Mighty God who has drawn them together by his grace and steadfast love. Longing for my life to reflect that very truth. Longing for more of him and less of me.

the best surprise of all

I am going to marry my best friend.

A more detailed story, where I can brag on him, is soon to come. No worries.

paper & string

I made a paper heart garland for Valentine's Day, don't judge. I have a serious love for paper and string so this just seemed like a perfect combination for decorating. Today, however, is the day after Valentine's so it seems as though today would be the day to take down the hearts. But my dilemma is whether to leave them lingering in suspension for a few days or take them down. Perhaps I'm putting off taking them down because I have the best Valentine in the land. Either way, here they are, I guess they'll just have to stay up for a couple more days.

the difference in a clenched fist

I'm becoming more convinced everyday that surrender is something I will continue to learn throughout my life. At different stages, at different levels, all the while applying this understanding to the very day and situation I am in. I think about surrender in three stages:

• identifying what is before me
• exposing what is before me (which is accompanied by acceptance in it's presence, sharing it with others and exposing my recognition of it to God)

Often times this is where I find momentary satiation in my surrender. I recognized and then I exposed what it was, but I am missing a critical part of true surrender in all of my surrendering.

unclenching my fist.

The most crucial facet of true surrender. It's the hardest part I think. Unclenching my fist as I expose what is before me, releasing control and most importantly trusting (I'm talking about REALLY trusting) the Lord is in control. I've been choosing to actively participate in that last part. Sometimes, usually when the thing before me is unpleasant, it's so easy to let go. With gladness I'll let it go, hand it off, and in that moment I know that I know that I'm over my head. But that dismissing is perhaps almost as dangerous as having a fist unclenched. I don't know about you, but being too dismissive brings me to a passive attitude about what is going on. I know I'm not in control so I excuse not truly experiencing the circumstance and happenings of my life. Then there's this other scenario where the happenstance is good. When it's easy to rejoice in my circumstances. And still, there in that moment, the Lord wants all of who I am. Not to steal my joy, but to make much of his name in my suffering and in my happiness. So, I say all this to say that I strongly believe that the Lord, in his grace and goodness, wants us to experience him in his fullness. And somehow he beautifully works our surrender into knowing him more and truly living. In every moment of our day, every situation, every feeling and thought. So good and bad, difficult and easy, he's present and he's teaching. And I'm learning to embrace that more and more. Knowing that I will seek and find him when I seek him with all of who I am (Jeremiah 29:13).

lately

My board of bulletins has been keeping a make shift journal of sorts. The creative part of me loves to have things revolving on and off this board. A couple occupants are permanently stationed: a map of midtown, an outline of Turkey, a mini-clip board & foreign language flash cards. But apart from that, this space is where I like to place new ideas, inspiration and mementos (yes, I'm sentimental. Don't judge). My favorite right now is a portion of Gustave Caillebotte's Les raboteurs de parquet (The Floor Scrapers), a product of visiting the impressionist exhibit at the Frist over Christmas break. I love the ordinary strength captured in this piece and the simplicity of it all. So, today I'm found at my desk dreaming about a couple fun future projects. Hoping you have little reminders in your home of places you've been, things that inspire or people you love. (Or any combination of the three). Happy Saturday!

Christi & Ryan

One of my dearest friends, Christi, got married right before Christmas. Her wedding pictures are stunning. I'm not talking about, I-think-they-are-stunning-because-I'm-biased-because-she's-my-friend. They are stunning.

Click here: C & Ryan.

You'll see.

where in the world

did 2010 go?

i'm not sure.

and as a new year washes onto shore, the resurgence of resolutions fill the air and motivations are ignited anew. too often i try to justify my resentment towards new years resolutions. today i'm found appreciative at the thought of a continuous wave of restoration that washes over my heart and life.

i want start this year with a refreshed heart, new desires and an inexhaustible hope. the last few months has felt somewhat like a swallow water tread. for lack of a better vocabulary, my soul is longing. increasingly longing for more.

more depth.

more understanding.

more patience.

more grace.

more compassion.

more love.

more discipline.

more steadfastness.

more of more that is found in One.

+ vs. -

a conversation I had while helping a six year old little boy do his homework:

M: "Have you been practicing your subtraction? Do you have any questions before you start?"

S: "Really, I just like addition better than subtraction."

M: "That's ok, but why is that?"

S: "Well when it's like eating cookies and doing addition, you get to eat more. But when you subtract them, you have less cookies."

M: "Totally understandable."

one year ago...

...we were celebrating Thanksgiving Hong Kong style.

{This little Thanksgiving bird squeezed in our convection oven.}

{This little bird was greeting us at the door.}

We laughed a lot. We transported casseroles in a caravan of taxis. We missed our families. We embraced separation from what was familiar. We failed to write down 1,000 things we are thankful for (sorry April). We learned over again that the Lord's goodness is rich and deep.

the weight of still waters

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 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 goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalm 23

My idea of restoration has been seemingly beset by a new understanding. As I've read through this set of scripture before, there was an overtone of a selfish fog. A picturesque moment of a strong shepherding rod in view, the greenest green pastures, and me sitting still soaking it all in. I'm quite certain, embarassingly, that I've sighed out loud before reading this psalm. But this picture, this idea that I had was lacking a serious insight of restoration. While the visuals of still waters and green pastures most certainly conjure calming notions, verse four has set my mind at a different perspective. "He restores my soul." That truth, is heavy. How does restoration happen? We continue to read on and the psalmist says, "He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." He is restoring by leading me in places where I must trust, where faith must be pure, lest I hope in vain. He restores by fulfilling his promises, making his glory known through reconstructing a life, which was dead to sin, to walk in newness of life. So the weight of those still waters I pass by, is much heavier than before. For when the Lord is our Shepherd, we shall not want. He is the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls.

diy: inspiration

The next addition for my room:

if i had a book club, i'd tell you about the book that

I just finished:

The story of the Zeitoun family, located in the heart of New Orleans immediately before & after Katrina. I found the layers of family dynamics, culture, religion, integrity and justice in perfect intersections as I got lost in the reality of a modern day New Orleans.

I'm working on:

A book that is in much less need of introduction. One afternoon Jason let me borrow his copy of this intricate character's tale. Beautifully penned and undeniably entertaining.

I just broke the binding on:

A book that traveled to Hong Kong and back with me late this summer. A timely complying of truth spoken directly to the ideas and culture that are ingrained in each one of us as Americans. It is not a call to life radically for the sake of living radically. Rather, a call to live truly following Christ, surrendered to the truth laid out in scripture and written across our hearts as believers. Currently bookmarked at page 30, my soul is already refreshed and challenged by God's truth spoken through these pages.

slicing and dicing

Confession #1: Today I was in the kitchen for 4 hours straight.

Confession #2: I really love being in the kitchen. I think it used to be a place that scared me. Yep, scared. Not nightmare, scared for my life scared. Scared in the sense that it was more than likely I was going to burn whatever I was cooking, or myself (which I still frequently do). I find myself lingering in the kitchen wondering what I could bake, or how I could make a meal out of whatever may happen to be in the refrigerator, or trying a new recipe when no one is home just in case it tanks miserably. This recent love affair with trying to be a culinary legend in my own mind has been accompanied by a repeat disorder with an Otis Redding album. Over and over. I'm sure my roommates are sick of it, but the kitchen doesn't seem to function as smoothly without some good music in my book. So, here's to more "Try A Little Tenderness" & olive oil.

Because I know you're just dying to know tonight's menu:

Cowboy Chicken

Fluffy New Potatoes

Steamed Broccoli

Fresh Corn on the Cob

and the finale: chocolate chip doozies (sorry Cat, I know you little less than hate that word)

because i love the snail mail

Seeing the revival of the telegram made my heart happy today. Who wouldn't want to find of of these in their mailbox?

thoughts on rotation from Sunday

"Love costs us the whole concept of self-preservation."

a playlist & a project

A few good tunes.

• "Try A little Tenderness": Otis Redding
• "May Waltz (Acoustic)": Brooke Fraser
• "Our Kind of Love": Lady Antebellum
• "Feeling Good": Nina Simone
• "I Got That Feeling": James Brown

[play all the way through.]

• "Where the Light Is": John Mayer
• "Legends of Soul": Otis Redding

Add in: buttons.

1/3 yard of fabric.

tearing.

folding. tacking. repeating.

again, and again. 38 times, again.

a snap to the side.

a button to cover.

and voila: a swell little anchor pillow sham.

hello, my name is...

I have been asked a lot lately, "How do you feel being back in the states?" There are so many facets of transition that intersect the answer to that question. Of course it has been so fun to see friends and family, to hear the sound of that distinctive slow Southern draw, and to interact without having to translate using hand motions. But if I boil down all the prefaces and the intersecting factors, I feel like the new kid in class. You know the first day of school feeling? It's so wonderfully nerve-racking. Pushing through awkward introductions, getting lost, going the wrong way (down a one-way street: can we talk about embarrassing?), making new friends, and finding a new rhythm of life. I'm still trying to figure out where I fit in this new place. I'm different than I was a year ago, the place is different, the people are different. Different is most certainly OK, and today it just means that life is contrasting what it once was. Really thankful to be in a place where I am still learning each day. Most of the time lessons have revealed themselves so unexpectedly, but then again don't the best ones always come that way? Here's to a deep breath and a fresh start.

'all his work'

For the word of the Lord is upright, and all his work is done in faithfulness. Psalm 33:4

2 days

Two days left till I head to HKG and with all the little might it can conjure, my mind is trying to soak up Hong Kong. My heart has been so blessed by the last year.

Certainly more depth of understanding will come in due time.

Certainly I will miss this place.

Certainly the Lord's goodness will continue in it's humbling steadfast fashion.