∴ out of the woods ∴

Giveaways Galore

2010-02-09T06:38:00.000-08:00

There are some incredible giveaways to be had at all the Simple Living blogs.

Check out: Simple Mom, Simple Kids, Simple Bites, Simple Homeschool, and Simple Organic.

And you can find my more recent posts at Herald.

Sorry Bloggy

2010-01-15T06:27:00.000-08:00

Another giveaway!

http://simplemom.net/steady-days-a-journey-toward-intentional-professional-motherhood-giveaway/comment-page-2/#comment-67304

the shaft

2009-11-19T06:18:00.000-08:00

This blog totally gets the shaft now, and I am using it to try to win jewelry:

I want Lisa Leonard's ID cuff real bad, but I probably won't win.

simpler and smaller

2009-11-16T13:43:00.000-08:00

As you may have guessed, I hate my blog. For a second there, I thought I hated blogging in general, but I don't think that's true.

I'm attempting something new. This is for me. I've pretty much given up on the idea of being a blogger with a large audience, but I welcome those of you who have stuck around.

I'm going the micro-blogging direction for a couple different reasons. 1) I can get content up without feeling pressure to come up with something interesting to say. 2) I can focus on practicing the kind of writing I'm actually somewhat good at: short prose and poetry. 3) It's more abstract, and I'm more abstract. I think I'll probably post some more about Ireland, but without all the "We did this, and then we did that, and later we saw this." I'd like to express the feeling of life, not just the facts. I'll save the play-by-play for Twitter. 4) Tumblr has sweet templates.

So, as they like to say in the blogosphere, hop on over and find me here: Herald. There'll be some repeat content for a little while, because this is a portfolio of sorts. I'm just getting it all out there.

1000 gifts

2009-10-26T08:09:00.000-07:00

So much to catch up on!

one hundred twenty-one.

A beautiful day in Detroit to run the marathon relay and family to cheer me on.

one hundred twenty-six & seven.

Really good conversation with Kevin about parenting and "Where the Wild Things Are," both of which helped me let go and feel peace about Ellary's emotions.

one hundred thirty-five.

My mom's visit: endless kisses and love for Ellary, delicious time in the kitchen with me, and clean baseboards.

one hundred thirty-three.

Fall moments with Ellary.

one hundred thirty-eight & nine.

Grace for arrogance, insecurity and listening to myself talk. Repentance and peace.

one hundred fifty-seven.

Living here.

one hundred fifty-eight thru sixty-five.

More CSA bounty:

pumpkins
butternut squash
delicata squash
acorn squash
rutabaga
sage
rosemary
garlic

1000 gifts (Blessing Permanence)

2009-10-12T07:42:00.000-07:00

At least two people are considering making 1000 Gifts apart of their blogs, but more importantly apart of their lives! Here's more on why it's changing my life:

Just as my daughter is developing a sense of object permanence (the understanding that something or someone continues to exist even if they're not with her), I am developing "blessing permanence." God's loving gifts continue to flow in, and I don't need to grasp at or cling to them, as if they are the last taste of a good thing I will ever have.

And I've been convicted by Him that I want to choose my blessings. I want my life to look and feel a certain way (most often because I'm comparing it to someone else's). Instead of relishing the simple gifts that He lavishes on me, I am discontent and covetous. Even worse, I manhandle my life, as if I could somehow create my own blessing.

God wants me to live my life, the one He authors. It will be and is far more lovely than anything I can come up with on my own.

eighty-four.

Another heavenly walk: crisp fall air, bright blue sky, studded with white clouds, orange trees.

eighty-five.

Distant deer in the field.

eighty-six.

Three gray herons together.

eighty-seven.

Rocking my sweet girl to sleep; we are both at peace.

I'm almost to 100!

1000 gifts (Invitation)

2009-10-05T07:41:00.000-07:00

thirty-seven.

The laundry basket full of clean baby clothes and shoes.

thirty-nine.

Sweet potatoes baking.

forty-five.

Cold feet under warm covers.

forty-eight.

My daughter's first efforts to stand on her own.

forty-nine.

Moonshine on feathery clouds: October dusk.

fifty-one.

Kevin's lumberjack look: flannel shirts and beard.

***

Are any of my blog buddies looking for something to do on a Monday? I was just telling Kevin last night how much this discipline of gratitude has already meant to me. As I've been keeping track of all the little moments of grace, joy and worship in my life, I've noticed that they linger longer. Which in itself is such a gift [#52], because in the past, joy was bittersweet and much too fleeting. The second I felt true happiness, I was already mourning the imminent loss of it. Now I say what I always should have said: Thank you, Jesus. And the joy sticks around, because I'm worshiping its Source.

I would wholeheartedly love to know about the grace and joy in the lives of others too! Take it as a challenge from me--I don't think you'll be disappointed.

kerry (kickin it killarney style)

2009-09-29T18:10:00.000-07:00

Killarney in County Kerry was home base for us. We stayed a whole week in a cute house in a real Irish neighborhood, which is kind of remarkable, considering that Killarney is about as touristy as it gets.

Our first day there, Kevin and my dad and brother got to go to a Gaelic Football game between Kerry and Cork.

The town sits on the edge of Killarney National Park, which is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. It is mountainous and green and spanned by two huge lakes.

We had a great time touring Ross Castle, which has been beautifully restored. It was built in the 15th century by the O'Donoghue chieftains. Pretty sweet, huh? The inside of the castle was nothing like you'd imagine a typical castle based on the movies. Apparently, everyone but the lord and lady of the house sleep in the rather small main room, and there is one extremely narrow staircase that connects everything. My history-buff hubby loved it.

The weather was so perfectly Irish--misty, gray and cool. We went for a long walk through dense forest and along rocky outcroppings.

Later that day we headed twenty minutes south to Kenmare expressly to visit Crowley's Pub, which was recommended in one of our travel guides. It was so trippy; the owner of the pub was a Crowley, of course, and he looked exactly like my cousin David. I kid you not. This place was awesome.

On another day trip, we took a crazy hike up the side of a big mountainside. It was worth it.

Kevin challenged Evan to a boat-building contest on our way back down. I love his creativity about that kind of stuff.

Next up: Dingle (my favorite day!!).

1000 gifts (The Body edition)

2009-09-28T06:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Kevin's tenth anniversary of attending New Life (and Ciara, if you still read this, thanks for that email reminder [#27]--super encouraging). He stayed up late last night writing to our pastors and thanking them each specifically for their eternity-shaping investment in his life. Wow.

It's been eight years for me, and I'm grateful for every one of them. In particular, I have watched these men, our pastors (past and present) sacrifice over and over out of love for God and love for His Church. Their wives have taught me how to pursue God with real-life fervor, how to love my husband, and how to bestow on my role as mother all the glory it deserves. So without further ado...

***

twenty-eight.

MIKE has always helped me feel a sense of stability in the midst of turmoil. In many cases, I think his faith has been bedrock for everyone else's. As a freshman, my church inheritance was memories of politics, fights over money and names, petty grudges and hurt a mile deep. Mike's quiet constancy helped me trust in leadership again.

twenty-nine.

STEVE is just plain crazy, and every church needs a man like him. He is our Abraham, taking wild leaps of faith and setting up altars everywhere, because--what do you know--God keeps coming through. I've always known Steve believes in me; his encouragement got me on staff and continues to motivate my heart for women's ministry.

thirty.

JOHNNY used to sit with me during lifegroup coaching and wait compassionately while I cried for who knows what reason. He always told me the same thing: "You're doing a great job." I never ever believed him. I honestly thought it was lip service. But now I can see that he was speaking the truth to me--that God is pleased. I wish I would have let the truth he spoke through a little earlier.

thirty-one.

JOEL is unaccountably steadfast. What is his secret? On a small scale, he sends emails that say "Thanks!" when I do something that I was supposed to do a long time ago. On a large scale, his life is often outrageously crazy, but he always radiates peace. I know, from watching Joel, that is is possible to rejoice in the face of suffering, grief, stress and illness. It is possible to be genuinely happy, no matter what.

thirty-two.

NIK is my friend. Behind all of his passion, leadership ability, drive and intensity, there is a guy who knows how to chill. That kind of combination is deadly (in a good way), and I'm glad he's so influential; otherwise no one would know how to chill. Nik's hospitality and friendship provide support for me as a staff-member, wife, and mother.

thirty-three.

GRAIG is himself like no one else I know, and the biggest thing he has taught me is to be myself. The best part is that he makes absolutely no grand claims about being a world-changer. He's just Graig, and then he changes the world. I look to the Austins as my examples for faith. I want to live my life like they live theirs--no holds barred, no way of knowing, let's just go with it.

thirty-four.

SHAH was my first real boss and has had a hand in completely overhauling my mindset many times. His voice still rings in my ears whenever I think the solution to my problems would be more discipline. "No. Again, Meghan, no. What you need is to stop thinking about yourself and start thinking about God and His graciousness to you." He taught me to see myself as God does--not as a bunch of sins that need cleaning up, but as a herald of His goodness.

thirty-five.

RICK is my teacher. I think I've been his unofficial apprentice for about four years (at least in my own head). He sees. His perspective on everything is mind-bogglingly huge. He always seems to know where he's going in a conversation, but he lets me tag along and veer everyone wildly off, if I'd like. God has used Rick to give me confidence as His shepherd.

***

Ok, seriously. Are you kidding me??? Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesus, for plopping me down in this family and giving me leaders that I can trust. I know that what I have is wildly extraordinary. I am so grateful. Anyone else from New Life want to chime in?

to my dad, on his birthday

2009-08-31T17:48:00.000-07:00

(Lough Leane, Killarney National Park)

1
It’s Sunday morning. I’ve gone into church early with my dad, and he is typing up some last minute additions to his sermon notes. He is moving quickly and no doubt intends to proofread later, but I am quite concerned about all the typos. I read over his shoulder and announce mistakes. My dad patiently returns to each one and corrects it, graciously allowing me to be his emphatic little third-grade editor.

2
It’s Thanksgiving night, and we’ve had an enormous snowfall. My dad leaves behind adult conversation to make a snowman with my brother and me. We cheer as he rolls the first giant ball of snow. In our obsession, we ask him to keep going, keep going! He huffs and puffs as he rolls and rolls; it gets bigger and bigger. My dad wears himself out so we can have our giant snowball.

3
My dad yells “Goooooooootz!” as I approach the back of the volleyball court. Even though I later ask him to keep it down because serving gives me trouble, I know he’s proud of me. Once I manage a particularly powerful quick ace, and he still talks about it today. My dad is my biggest fan.

(historian, aesthete, teacher)

4
My dad calls me on the phone, and we’re a thousand miles apart. We do this several times a year. He explains in detail the plan he’s devised to get our family all together. He knows exactly how to work the plan most efficiently, and he gets everyone on board. He’s excited about the details, because he’s passionate about his family. My dad loves his people and will do what it takes to be with them.

5
It’s Christmas, and my dad lounges on the couch. A dark-haired, blue-eyed little bundle of a baby sleeps contentedly on his chest. She never sleeps like this with anyone else. My dad is the ultimate Babu.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Thank you for your patience, selflessness, support, generosity, and love. I love you.

1000 gifts (CSA edition)

2009-08-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

twelve: carrots

thirteen: beets

fourteen: heirloom, cherry, & paste tomatoes

fifteen: sweet corn (barely keeping up)

sixteen: potatoes (way, way more than I know what to do with)

seventeen: cucumber

eighteen: zucchini, pattypan, & yellow squash

nineteen: green bell peppers & poblanos

twenty: basil (typing this helps me to be grateful for all the darn basil)

twenty-one: kale & chard

twenty-two: mustard greens & totchoi

twenty-three: green leaf & romaine lettuce

twenty-four: oregano & mint

twenty-five: kohlrabi

twenty-six: all that's yet to come

It was a good idea.

Galway

2009-08-26T07:30:00.000-07:00

(Not sure you recall, but way back when, my family and I visited Ireland)

Our next stop on the Emerald Isle was Galway County and Galway City, which lies north of Clare and Doolin, across a huge bay. When planning the trip, Galway was always at the top of my list for one embarrassing reason: Bodie and Brock Thoene's The Galway Chronicles, which I read with enthusiasm in high school. While I claimed to know a lot about Ireland before our trip, the truth is that most of my information came from Christian historical fiction. At least now my bluff is called.

We spent one whirlwind day in Galway, most of that time in the city, and we arrived on the inopportune final day of the Volvo Ocean Race's Irish stopover. Oh my, the traffic. It cramped our style a bit.

Still, Galway City was a lot of fun. It developed around a fort built in 1124, and you can really feel its age. I loved Shop Street, a carless thoroughfare with shops, pubs and street performers galore. I'll always regret not buying a CD from one of the bands that played--it was the most beautiful music I heard the whole trip. I was mesmerized.

The River Corrib flows through Galway, framed by wildflowers and bridges. There was an incredible amount of green in such a big, busy city.

My favorite spot of the day was Galway Cathedral (or The Cathedral of Our Lady Assumed Into Heaven and St. Nicholas, whoa). I will once again completely discredit myself and say that this may be one of the most beautiful cathedrals I've ever seen. Here's the thing--it opened in 1965. So you know, it's not exactly a phenomenon of hand-hewn architecture and construction, like the Duomo of Florence, for instance. But I just like it, ok?

I loved the modern art mixed in with the Renaissance and Romanesque architecture.

(photo by Mark Grealish)

After our afternoon in Galway, we made a giant loop through the eastern portion of the greater county, in an attempt to see the Connemara. This mountainous region is windswept and wild, with numerous lakes. It is primarily Gaeltacht or Irish-speaking. Not that I would really know, because we never got out of the car, except for one fuel stop. Traveling with a baby keeps things brief and efficient! These photos are pretty close to what we saw, though.

(photo by StellaStyles)

(photo by Neil1960)

Up next, Kerry and Killarney!

1000 gifts (Detroit edition)

2009-08-17T08:57:00.000-07:00

five.

The Melinda crepe at Good Girls Go to Paris Creperie. Cream cheese, brown sugar, lime, heaven. Check this place out--it's on John R right off Woodward. It's just a little window.

six.

Lunch on a shaded patch of grass in Grand Circus Park.

seven.

Free easy parking.

eight.

Community gardens everywhere you look. I'm letting myself dream a bit.

nine.

A night away. A night on the riverfront.

ten.

Incredible in-laws who love Ellary with all their might and take such good care of her. I can be completely confident in them. What a gift.

eleven.

Two years. Deep love. Thank you, Abba.

(photo by Dawn Sparks)

Clare

2009-08-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Finally.

We spent our first three days in Ireland in County Clare, which is along the southwest coast of the country and home to the famed Cliffs of Moher, as well as the eerie landscape of the Burren. We actually flew over Clare on our descent into Ireland and got to see the Cliffs from the plane. That was a spectacular experience; I really did feel like a lifelong dream was coming true in that moment. Ireland from air is exactly what you would expect it to be--green, divided into messy plots by stone walls and lakes.

We flew into the Shannon airport and grabbed lunch in a perfectly picturesque little village called Ennistymon. A funny little woman named Mary sat at a table next to us and chattered our ears off the whole time. I found her quite charming, and she set the precedent for the rest of the trip. It's true what they say about Ireland--everyone is very friendly.

We stayed in Doolin, a seaside holiday town popular among Irish vacationers.

It was recommended in the guidebooks as the perfect place to experience the Irish music scene. My dad reserved an awesome self-catering cottage, with this view.

Poor us.

That first jet-lagged night we ate our first of MANY meals of fish & chips and seafood chowder. I also had some minted peas that I can still taste in my mind to this day. We took a lovely walk to the end of a tiny road and watched the sunset over the ocean.

Day two was all about the Cliffs of Moher. First we took a boat ride right up alongside these sheer rock faces. They are the tallest cliffs in western Europe and a habitat for thousands of birds.

The boat ride was windy and refreshing, and I loved being able to get up close to see the stratum of rock. Glaciers are responsible for carving out and exposing layers upon layers of earth.

To get the truly spectacular vista, however, one needs to hike up to the top of the cliffs at the visitor center. This is definitely a tourist trap, but I would stay trapped here year-round, if I could. I mean, come on.

That evening, we checked out McCann's pub for dinner and some Guinness. Ellary lost a little bit of her innocence that night.

McCann's hosts awesome Irish bands most nights, so we got to experience some real pub life. I think in some places you get a Disneyland version of the pub, because they know it's what Americans want, but every time we went to a pub, there were regular Irish folks there having a ball. A pub is considered to be a good one if it has good "craic" or atmosphere/mood/conversation. My brother Evan closed down the pub that night, hanging out with some Irish fellas. I, on the other hand, headed home early to get Ellary to bed.

Our second full day in Ireland we drove through the Burren. This region of Clare is extremely rocky, because it was farmed extensively for so long that the rockbed eventually ended up at the surface. It is a slightly lunar landscape. Since we drove through the Burren without stopping we didn't get any good pictures, but I thought I'd borrow one.

(photo by Emerald Skies)

And that'll do it for our time in Clare. I'll leave you with a photo of this stunning cemetary with Celtic crosses galore.

1000

2009-07-28T07:05:00.000-07:00

1000 gifts.

one.

This man. He is my modern-day Jeremiah.

two.

This girl. Does joy have a color? Is it blue?

three.

Fresh Michigan black cherries. Seriously scandalizing.

four.

This verse: "Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures have said, streams of living water will flow from within him." (John 7:38)

sometimes

2009-06-24T19:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you spend a full hour trying everything to get your baby to sleep, except the most intuitive solution, at which point you realize she is hungry.

Sometimes you clip a chunk out of her tiny little thumb while trying to trim her fingernails.

Sometimes you spend all morning staring at the computer instead of relishing every moment of her fleeting infancy.

Sometimes you watch placidly as she slowly teeters backward to collide headlong with the floor. You wonder why you just stood there.

Sometimes you just never get around to actually strapping her baby seat safely to the chair.

Sometimes you even warm up her food in a plastic bowl in the microwave.

Did you know, just the same, that you are a good mother?

Food and Community

2009-05-07T10:19:00.000-07:00

∴ What follows is a post inspired by my participation in an online book club at Simple Mom, discussing the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver. I’m truly enjoying it and learning a lot, and since it’s what’s been on my mind, I thought I’d share. However, this is the type of post, when written by someone else, that is notorious for making me feel bad about myself. Lest I seem like I’m becoming some sort of homemaker, locavore extraordinaire (or maybe I’m just flattering myself), let me say that I find this whole process to be a fun and creative outlet. It’s precisely the kind of thing that makes me feel really happy. If you happen to be less excited about tapping into your inner Martha Stewart, please don’t feel bad. If you already do, stop reading. One thing I can’t stand is green sanctimony, and I would hate to come across, you know, greener-than-thou. We’re all doing what we can, these days, to be good stewards of our bodies and the earth, but the truth is, it’s all gonna be made new in the end. There, I said it. ∴

Last week I signed up for a share in a community-supported farm, because I am ultra-chic like that.

Once a week, we will receive a half-bushel of produce grown on land only twenty minutes from our house. As this is a new venture for us, I am keeping my expectations low, but I am hoping to eat tons of fresh fruits and vegetables this summer, as well as freeze and can the surplus, so that we’ll have local produce available year-round.

We’ve been making small changes like this here and there for the last year. Some examples include buying milk in glass jars from a local dairy farm, going berry-picking, and eating meat products at only one meal per day. I’m excited about this last one, because it challenges me to practice vegetarian meals and also frees up room in the budget to buy locally and humanely-raised meat, eggs and dairy. Besides canning, I’m also looking forward to learning how to make my own bread, growing tomatoes and herbs, and figuring out some way to compost in our 800 square foot condo with no yard.

I’ve always struggled to eat healthfully, and I believe the main reason for this is that I don’t eat in a conscious way. Eating is just another thing that I need to do in the Spirit, but that’s hard when you’re either wolfing down dinner because you have no time or you’re choosing not to think about what was really in that crappy, yet convenient, meal.

Consciousness has seemed to be the major theme presenting itself, as I think about the food that my body is currently producing for my baby, as well as the food that I will very shortly feed her with a spoon. My desire is to remain unconscious about several unpleasant elements:
∴ the effect certain ingredients have on my body;
∴ the effect certain food groups (read: sugar) has on my overall mood;
∴ the truly horrific state of industrial husbandry, particularly meatpacking; and
∴ the impact of big agriculture on our local farmers and local economies.

Several books and documentaries have come out in the last few years that candidly discuss the state of food in America, and I typically don’t want to go near them with a ten-foot pole. I don’t want to know, you know? All of a sudden, though, I’m feeling a new responsibility to my daughter and to my community.

The state of the economy and our various environmental crises have had me thinking for a year or so that one of these days we’re all gonna have to move out to the country and learn to live off the land again. Either that, or everyone will cram into the cities, because it’s too expensive to drive anywhere. I keep imagining acres and acres of abandoned and burned out suburbs--basically Detroit inverted. Apparently, I am your friendly doomsday prophet.

Maybe the future doesn’t look a thing like this; I certainly hope not, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I don’t think we can control a whole lot. However, in this theory of mine, communities are going to have to come together to figure out a new way to do life. There won’t be so much self-sufficiency and isolation. This is already happening in Detroit, in fact. All those acres of burned out neighborhoods and urban prairie are being turned into community gardens and art installments. People in that city have very few places to go for affordable, healthful food or beautiful things to look at, so they create these themselves. My new passion for our little local farm and some cans of tomato sauce is connected to those city folk. I want to be apart of a community that is using resources within reach to take care of each of its members. I want to learn skills that will help me do that even in the worst of economies.

Even feigning surprise, pretending it was unexpected and saying a ritual thanks, is surely wiser than just expecting everything so carelessly.
--Barbara Kingsolver

i saw it first

2009-04-21T17:38:00.001-07:00

A little known fact about me is that I spent the first six years of my life in the countryside outside of Philadelphia. I hope heaven will look a little like our land on Ivy Mills Road. I have so many warm and sparkly memories from that era.

Recently, the masterminds behind Anthropologie and Urban Outfitters started a home and garden shop called Terrain at Styer's. It's been getting a lot of press lately--I first noticed it in Domino. Looks pretty awesome.

I saw this picture and thought, "Hmmm, that looks familiar."

One of my earliest memories took place in this lofted greenhouse. I was walking with my mom, as she picked out potted plants to take home. Oddly, I can still remember that "Constant Cravings" by kd lang was playing (which should ruin the memory, but doesn't).

Styer's has been in Glen Mills for years, right around the corner from our old farmhouse, but it just so happens to be the next big thing in designer gardening.

in need of the truth, part II

2009-04-20T07:41:00.001-07:00

Read Part I here. Part II won't make much sense without it.

***

∴ Yoohoo! The actual passage is: “And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character, and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us” (Romans 5:2-5). Yeah, I kind of left out a massive element of the whole process. And what is so compelling about Angie’s life is that she is living this out. Her hope is deep and alive, and it sustains her through her earthly troubles. Without hope as its outcome, suffering feels tragically wasteful and disappointing. With hope, suffering is not only bearable, but it is even strangely beautiful.

∴ True hope for eternity sustains us through our earthly troubles far better than any earthly solution to them or protection from them. God’s protection is so much more effective and real. While I may feel safer on my own, I’m every bit as helpless. Drawing nearer to God means actually becoming safer, because while I’m still out of control, I can be confident that my heart is safe with Him. I fear suffering that turns to despair, but He will not allow me to be tempted by hopelessness beyond what I can bear, and He will always give me a way out. His mighty hand is my refuge.

∴ I was really helped by my friend Karen’s observation that the analogies we use to describe God’s behavior and heart will always be slightly insufficient. His ways are mysterious and incomprehensible most of the time, so the Spirit gives us insight through His Word, but God is so much more than a physical flame or chisel. His love and discipline do refine me, but He is not casting me enthusiastically into a furnace to be burned. His touch is compassionate and tender, though it is always changing me.

∴ Emily rocked my world with this question: How much do you value your faith? In other words, is my walk with God just an avenue for me to get what I want (a life free from pain and suffering) or is FAITH in Christ the ultimate goal, regardless of circumstances? Which brings me right back to Angie’s words: “I am choosing to bear the crown, because I cannot live without the love.” Will I allow God to lead me in His love? Will I value my faith in Him above all, knowing that it gives everything else meaning? (Ari, you hit this one on the head in your comment.)

∴ What a comfort it is to pray. The girls and I were all a bit bewildered, but in the end, we could only ask God to deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread. Abba, penetrate our hearts with your truth; let us trust you and not be afraid of you. May your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

I welcome your thoughts and comments on this subject.

in need of the truth, part I

2009-04-17T13:32:00.000-07:00

“Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him” (John 7:38).

Most everything I long for spiritually is contained in this verse. I want more Holy Spirit in my life. For some reason, I imagine being more prone to giving people hugs and praying for them on the spot. I might even believe that what I pray for will happen. I might even pray for crazy things, just because I can. I could see myself being more bold with the truth and speaking encouraging words to lonely or disheartened people. Generally, the fruits of the Spirit would be popping up here and there.

I recently read Angie’s post reflecting on the one-year anniversary of her daughter’s birth and death, entitled “It Was Love.” All I know about Angie is what she tells the world in her posts, but she seems to me like someone who has a whole lot of living water flowing from her. She’s honest, joyous and faith-filled; she grieves beautifully and loves passionately. She writes, “We who are followers of the King must daily wake up and look in the mirror, seeing our reflection with a crown of thorns balanced on our heads. We must feel the burden of the cross at different points in our life, and with the power of Christ Himself, we will look solemnly back at ourselves and say, "I am choosing to bear the crown because I cannot live without the love..."

Since then, I’ve been fighting a battle against what I believe to be strategic lies from the enemy. They are accusations against God, and I find myself easily believing them. What originated as a question for God turned itself into fear and distrust. I was wondering: do I have to suffer like Angie has suffered in order to know and love God like she does? In other words, does God cause suffering so that people will love Him more? It makes some sense, based on many of the Scriptural metaphors we have for God, specifically the “refining fire” comparison. You know, the whole “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character” deal.

So then I began to imagine what it would be like if we lost Ellary to SIDS or something (seems like so many babies are dying in the mommy blog world). I tend to think that I’ve had little to no real suffering in my life thus far, and that freaks me out. It makes me wonder: “What’s coming? Something horrible is inevitable, right? If I ask God to take me deeper, then I’m opening myself up to pain. I’ll lose the protection of my mediocre spiritual life.” These are not uplifting thoughts, and I got to the point on this trajectory where I was willing to say, “If I have to lose Ellary in order to know and love God more, then I don’t want to know and love God more.” I said it. I think I still feel it a bit.

Nevertheless, I brought up this issue yesterday in a group I attend with a few other wives, and I left knowing that we’d all seen some victory over these lies. A couple of the girls are in that waiting stage, wondering if God’s going to provide relief from their current suffering. We all just really needed truth. I want to hit the main points that we discussed, because this conversation was money in the bank. Check back soon for some words from the Lord.

just read when you want control

2009-03-21T20:02:00.000-07:00

On Ellary’s first night at home with us, she seemed so vulnerable and alone, way over there in her cradle. (In truth, I could have touched her without getting out of bed.) And I cried a little before falling asleep. The first few weeks, I kept thinking her newborn grimaces meant I was doing something wrong and that she could somehow be happier if I worked harder.

And then there were the books: one said to hold her until she was sleeping deeply, another said to put her in bed still awake so that she could learn to soothe herself. One focused on bonding, another on training. One book was so specific about what to do when, that I started getting neurotic about Ellary’s schedule. Why wouldn’t she nap for longer than 20 minutes? Should I make her eat more? Does she need a baby massage perhaps?

I was desperate for control, and the books gave me a script to follow. While a few wise women told me to simply follow my instincts, I didn’t want that kind of flexibility. There was too much room to screw up. I thought I could force Ellary to fit inside my new mother parameters, and then I would know for sure that she was going to be alright. But alas, she was three weeks old or whatever; she didn’t exactly know how to make it work.

Now that Ellary is so obviously a “satisfied customer,” as my mom likes to say, I’m relaxing and realizing that the books are just anthologies of skills mothers have been learning for centuries. Instead of allowing myself the space to learn these things at my own pace and with Ellary’s particular phase of development, I was anxious and frustrated when the advice of others didn’t match my experience. For example, she never took naps during the first two months. One of my books instructed me on how to put a baby down for a nap, with five different steps. I tried them early on with no success, so I gave up. Lately Ellary's been taking great naps during the day, and I’ve noticed that all five of those steps are apart of the naptime ritual we’ve developed over the last month. Did the author instruct me on how to help my baby sleep? I don’t really think so. She just confirmed what I learned independently through the time I’ve had with Ellary.

I’m not throwing the baby out with the bathwater here. Heh heh. I’ve learned some invaluable information from the many books I’ve read, and the best results arise when I’m gleaning helpful hints from a variety of sources and using what works. But it must never be about control. It can’t be the result of fear. Babies are amazingly resilient and flexible--at least mine is. She’s learning just as much as I am, and we’re growing together. I’m thanking God that we’re doing just fine, and all is right in Ellary’s world. He’s given me an incredible gift in my ability to care for my child. I don’t have the books to thank for that.

belated lenten internet fast

2009-03-05T06:46:00.000-08:00

I've decided to take a fast from the internet, with the exception of email, TV shows (Lost, Office, House & Friday Night Lights), and my blogs. There are many things I look forward to doing with the time this will create: reading real books and a magazine or two, watching the Netflix movie that's been sitting here for days, actually writing on this blog, cleaning the house, praying, and most sorely neglected, reading the Bible.

I realized that God was asking me to do this last night while I was feeding Ellary and listening to a podcast. Typically, I use our nursing time as my main internet time, and it adds up pretty quickly. I happened to look down at my baby and remember how intensely I love her; it's unlike any other feeling in the world. Perhaps I could use this as an opportunity to pray over her, instead of just passing the time.

It's a strange sacrifice. I'm not sure how I got so addicted to my Google reader, Twitter, and Facebook, but I have the sense that this fast is going to dramatically change my life for the better. I'm going to have numerous opportunities to stop and listen, to reflect in a deeper place, without the distraction and noise of a thousand cyber voices.

So the question is: will the fast last until Easter? Or will I keep it up for longer? Will I be motivated to establish more boundaries for myself? I'm interested to see where this goes.

if you're interested

2009-02-19T18:50:00.000-08:00

I wrote out the story of Ellary's birthday here.

It's rather long and probably not everyone's cup of tea, so I figured I'd keep it off the main page.

sixteen

2009-01-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

This "Sixteen Random Things About Oneself" meme is going around Facebook. Thought I'd post mine here as well.

1. I may be able to tell you about your personality simply by observing your hand gestures. Not always--but most of the time. I got into the science of personality (mainly Myers-Brigs) thanks to the Boese family and then again when I spent some time in counseling, where I realized that I had been trying very hard to act out of a personality that was not my own.

2. Speaking of personality, I've got quite the quagmire going on. I'm creative, but I'm not productive. Got lots of half-finished projects around here and MANY ideas trapped in my brain with little hope of release. Poor things.

3. Speaking of ideas, I'd really like to be a writer. As in, it's my job. I get paid to write.

4. Speaking of writing, I have a blog. You are welcome to view it: http://meghanlou.blogspot.com. Hey, thanks for stopping by!

5. Speaking of blogs, I've got a nasty habit. I currently have 48 sites on my blogroll. I've also recently become mildly obsessed with Twitter.

6. Speaking of nasty, I'm already sick to death of this clever little "speaking of" gimmick I was trying out.

7. If I could have my way, I would live in Lafayette Park in downtown Detroit, and once the Dequindre Cut is finished, most days I'd walk to Eastern Market or the river with Ellary in the Moby wrap or her stroller. (This life can currently be seen lived out at Sweet Juniper. Guess I'm not that creative after all).

8. Ironically, I almost have my way, considering I live on the Northside in Ann Arbor, and I walked down to the river with Ellary in the Moby wrap a couple days ago. The Farmer's Market is just a few blocks further. I LOOOOOVVVVEEEE Ann Arbor and would miss it very much if we move to Detroit.

9. I might be a feminist, but not in the traditional sense of the word. I'm not really sure. I think women are the bomb-diggity. I could talk all day about this. Sub-topics: "On the Ability of a Woman To Carry a Child Inside of Her and Then Give Birth To It," "The Importance of Women Leading Relationally In the Church," "My Beef With The Pill," "Why There's a Good Chance Any Gift You'll Get From Me Was Made By a Co-op of Refugee Widows," and "Don't Even Get Me Started On Abortion; I Am Not Happy." This will be my only controversial random. Most likely.

10. I'm a total sucker for golden retrievers, and I have a special voice for them.

11. I'm currently reading a fantasy novel by Robert Jordan and loving it. I mention this, because I am learning not to be embarrassed about it. Up till now, I am sorry to say that I have been nothing but pretentious about my literary preferences. Turns out one can let one's guard down and find joy in the pages of a hideously illustrated, shiny-gold-entitled paperback.

12. Sushi! Sushi sushi sushi! Sushiiiiiiiiii!

13. I'm on Zoloft for postpartum depression. I mention something semi-private like this because I think it's important for women to discuss what this phase of life can be like. Maybe it's because many mothers forget about the hard parts, but I don't feel that I was sufficiently warned. I'd like to be there for people who are also struggling. You go, Brooke Shields!

14. No really, my baby actually IS the cutest.

15. Most of the furniture in my home is from Ikea. It looks like a stinkin show room in here.

16. My husband handled baby duty tonight and brought me dinner in bed. You can imagine what kind of guy HE is.

ellary lynd

2009-01-17T12:40:00.000-08:00

I've been spending a lot of time working on her new blog, which will be an awesome way for all our far-off friends and family to follow her as she grows up. You are welcome to join us there.

I have some things I'd like to write about on this blog, so I'll be back. This has been the craziest experience of my life, without question. More to come...

photo and design by Jenni Sternberg

northside grill

2008-12-10T15:30:00.000-08:00

I am pumped. The Splendid Table podcast just featured Northside Grill, which we consider to be our very own neighborhood breakfast spot (it's a three-block walk); not to mention, Kevin used to work there as a short-order cook. I can personally vouch for the potato pancakes; also, if you get to know the boss pretty well, he'll come over and heckle you about being a Jesus freak. The actual podcast raved a bit more than the website did, but here's the review, along with the obligatory freaking out about Zingerman's, of course. I love Ann Arbor.

"Great breakfasts were the discovery of the Sterns' latest foray to Ann Arbor, Michigan, home of Michael's alma mater.

At the Northside Grill it was pancakes: apple oat bran with big chunks of caramelized apples that Michael ordered with a "side" of crispy-on-the-outside, creamy-on-the inside potato pancakes! Jane says spend the extra dollar or so for real maple syrup. The coffee here is fair trade organic.

At Zingerman's Next Door, which adjoins the legendary Zingerman's Delicatessen (where there are so many good things to eat it could make you dizzy), the excellent coffee is strong and the assortment of pastries will put you in a quandary. Chocolate cherry bread is unusual and delicious and the fabulous sticky buns have cherries tucked inside instead of raisins. This is Michigan, after all.

Leave room for Jane's favorite Dobos Torte, or a piece of the flaky and perfect apple strudel."

Northside Grill
1015 Broadway Street
Ann Arbor, MI
734-995-0965

Zingerman's Delicatessen and Zingerman's Next Door
422 Detroit Street
Ann Arbor, MI
734-663-3354
www.zingermansdeli.com

just the two of us

2008-12-10T13:30:00.003-08:00

Things will never be quite the same.

Lazy Friday Mornings: sleeping in, sitting around doing nothing until Kevin comes up with a plan (cause heaven knows I never will), working out with all the seniors at Washtenaw Rec Center, doing some laundry, reading at Borders (magazines for me, Tom Clancy for him)

Drives Into Work Together: timing the Wall Street shortcut perfectly, grumbling at the idiots who can’t figure out the left turn lanes on Glen, repenting, pounding fists when Kevin makes a particularly gutsy and successful maneuver, morning sports talk or BBC News Hour

Coffee at Sweetwaters: reading the newspaper, my feet up on Kevin’s legs (which take up all my foot space anyway), side comments about how much we love Ann Arbor, parking tickets, side comments about how annoying parking is in Ann Arbor

Long Road Trips: sour patch kids and reese’s pieces, energy drinks, worrying about what’s in the energy drinks, Harry Potter, cursing at the funky cruise control, tensing up at the wheel during rainstorms

Late-night Conversations with the Invisible Baby: telling her about our days, describing what life might be like for her out here, coaxing her to move around a bit, exclamations about all the resulting flailing, the difficulty in grasping that this is actually happening, dreams, fears, prayers

in the meantime

2008-12-07T11:10:00.000-08:00

I'm currently in that ultra-awkward waiting phase. If I let myself think about labor and delivery or the bringing home of a child to live with us permanently, I'm pretty darn scared. But generally, I am trying to keep busy. Oh, and I also pray sometimes.

Jenni recently started her own photography/design business, which is SWEET!! She came by to take some ("absolutely no cheese") preggy photos, and I am pumped about what she created. I especially like this one that she photoshopped.

the fruits of the independent woman

2008-12-02T20:12:00.000-08:00

Love, joy, peace, patience, etc. I know the drill. I love Jesus, and I’ve got the Spirit, so why does that list make me feel so bad? Good thing I’ve got it so firmly entrenched in my memory; there’s no need to think about what any of it really means. I’ll just spout it off when it’s important to look well-versed.

I want the fruits of the Spirit. I’m desperate for them. They are the nemeses of depression, anxiety and irritability. But when I try my best to feel them, I come up with this whole new category: tolerance, level-headedness, the ability to ignore worries, niceness, the ability to look busy, and sheer white-knuckle grit. Ah yes, the fruits of the independent woman. So delicious and nourishing, aren’t they?

They’re crap, and I’m tired of their mediocrity.

The fruits of the Spirit are fruits of the Spirit. Why do we expect ourselves to feel them independently of God’s power? Love, real agape lay-down-one’s-life-for-another love is not available to me apart from the Spirit. Real joy and peace are beyond my reach, unless He produces them in me. In every moment, I must yield to the Spirit in order to experience the emotional overhaul I desire.

So why be disappointed in myself when I fail to truly love someone? Why panic when I am stuck in anxiety? It’s not my job to feel better. It’s my job to take a second and “strive to surrender” (as my friend Erik put it so well). I can see how, in this way, life under grace might actually be a lighter burden.

this went a different direction that i was expecting

2008-11-26T18:01:00.000-08:00

I am thankful for my Abba’s grace, that he’s not disappointed in my lack of thankfulness, that his kindness leads me to repentance.

I am thankful for my baby girl, whose unplanned presence in our lives is a perfect one. I do not believe that a planned child is more important than an unplanned child under any circumstances, and never will.

I am thankful that God has given me the privilege of bearing and raising a child. I know he values the role of a mother far beyond what we’d expect, and that every pregnant woman is BLESSED.

I am thankful for my husband, who is currently installing the car seat, who has given me backrubs when he’s exhausted, who has dedicated himself to becoming an excellent birth coach, who taught me from the beginning: “This little zygote is a gift from God. It’s gonna be great.”

I am thankful that I can cast every anxiety on God, because he cares for me.

My life is dramatically good, and I know not everyone’s is. But we have a God who is strong. We have a God who loves us, and he knows what we need.

I am thankful that his kingdom comes and is coming.

getting used to being up

2008-11-17T02:48:00.000-08:00

5:50am.

turns out most of my neighbors leave their porchlights on all night.

the silence is not at all frightening, but deeply calming, which is interesting, since i was the little girl who was afraid to be the last one awake at sleepovers.

eight months ago, i was up scanning the internet in search of an explanation for the way i was feeling.

right now i'm up drinking some water and eating a sandwich, waiting for these now-familiar contractions to subside.

soon i'll be up rocking and feeding my sleepy little baby girl, listening to lullabies.

i can see things coming together

2008-11-10T15:17:00.000-08:00

I mentioned back in January that I had been throwing around ideas for women’s leadership development at New Life. A lot has taken shape since then; mainly there has been a monthly meeting started for the women who make up the core of the church (aka “Dual Core”). We had our first meeting two weeks ago, and I planned to give a talk on the vision for the meeting. I ended up learning some good lessons about how one needs to plan a meeting out in a detailed way, or it will take on a life of its own. Which it did, but it was good.

We did run out of time, though, and I gave a seven-minute summary of what would have been probably a 25-minute talk. I thought I’d post it here, because I worked hard on it, and it is something I am passionate about. I’d like to share it, though I have my doubts that anyone will read the whole thing. No worries.

*

"Why do we need a meeting like Dual Core?

So a few weeks ago, Kevin and I went down to Columbus to visit the H2O team and check out their Sunday morning service. They have a pretty similar service to ours, and the guy who shared his slice of life described himself as a “womanizer” before meeting Christ. He was a super excited guy, very enthusiastic, and as he was telling the story of the transformation of his life, he ended up saying, “Now, I love women. Women are awesome.” Have you ever been the one person in the crowd to laugh way louder than everyone else and everyone kind of looks at you?—that was me. But I loved it. I was like, “Right on, Aaron. That’s exactly how I feel.” I think women are the best thing ever.

I think you women are incredible people. And I am especially grateful that you’ve taken the time to come tonight, that you take the time to serve the church in many different ways, and that you want to grow. My plan for this time is to share some things I am exploring and discovering as I’ve studied the Bible and as I’ve been growing as a leader.

The truth is, men and women are dramatically different—“in the image of God, he created man; male and female, [God] created them.”—it’s not a mistake that this is so clearly emphasized in Genesis. We are obviously anatomically different, but those physical differences reflect a deeper and very beautiful spiritual and emotional reality.

Dual Core is designed to re-establish a deep admiration for the way God has created us as men and women. You attend Core each week, hopefully because you desire to go deeper in your relationship with God, while growing in ministry skills and doctrine. As leaders and workers in the church, you need training and exhortation in how to follow and serve God, and this will not always look the same for both men and women. Now, I realize that people from all different walks of life really really want to understand God’s will for men and women; they want to interpret Scripture the way He intended. I am going to share a little bit of what I’ve learned, that has seemed to ring true to my experience, simply as a woman, but also as a woman who is leader in the church. I realize that not everybody sees things the way I do, and that’s fine. I would ask that if anything I say particularly turns you off or makes you mad or something, I would love to talk to you about it. Please don’t let any bitter feelings fester.

It can be hard to extract from Scripture God’s will for women, but the work reveals a gold mine. God has a very very deep heart for women, not just because we’re human, but because we're women.

From the beginning, he entrusted us with a vital element of his image. Hebrew scholar Robert Alter is the guy that John Eldredge cites in his books, when discussing the meaning of the word that describes Eve in Genesis 2. He says that the English word “helper” or “helpmate” doesn’t really hit the mark. In Hebrew, it is ezer kenegdo, and should be translated something more along the lines of: “sustainer, life-giver.” While Adam was commissioned by God to care for the garden and name the animals, Eve was created to provide the relationship he needed to thrive as he carried out those tasks. Eve’s role as sustainer in Adam’s life foreshadows the role of women in the world throughout time.

I have gotten a lot out of reading a book called Shepherding a Woman’s Heart, by Beverly Hislop. I would highly recommend it to anyone who is really interested in this topic. She digs into Genesis 3 to talk about how gender distinctions play out in the fall of Adam and Eve and their subsequent curses. As you’ve probably heard many times before, Adam’s curse is focused on his work and accomplishments:

"Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.”

Eve’s curse, on the other hand, is entirely about her relationships:

"I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing;
with pain you will give birth to children.
Your desire will be for your husband,
and he will rule over you."

What stood out to me when reading the book was how much our great role as sustainers/life-bearers can contribute to our deepest difficulties. Our bodies are designed to give life, and most of us experience the hard truth of that every month. I personally am very weakened by that process--hormonally, physically, emotionally. The truth is, it’s not just physical. We are nurturers, whether that means we are carrying a baby around before its birth, or we are caring for a friend or an animal—all of this is profoundly meaningful and rich, and it is also, thanks to the curse, profoundly draining. Again, I point this out, because it is definitely hard to be nurturers and sustainers, but the difficulty is closely linked to the great privilege and favor we have in God’s sight. By the way, if the phrase in 1 Peter 3 really bothers you, which says: “treat [your wives] with respect as the weaker partner”—take into consideration the tremendous love God shows us by instructing husbands to care for their life-giving wives. We are not weak in the sense that we are inferior. We are often left feeling weak, because our efforts in the world are so monumental and affects our whole selves.

In the Gospels, I love how we get a glimpse of Jesus’ female friends. In Luke 8:3 and Matthew 27:55 we learn that Jesus and his very active disciples are being sustained and cared for by women; they are, in fact, the ones who stick as close to Jesus as possible even after he’d been arrested. The Matthew verse says, “They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs.” They were close by Jesus during his deepest pain, and even in death, they were there to care for Him. They wanted to be with Him. This is not a flippant by-the-way comment. Matthew knows he is communicating something important by including it in his story. I loved how the women had such prominent roles in The Passion movie—it definitely showed that the women were responding to Jesus at an incredibly deep relational level, and they ministered to Him in His deepest neediness.

Does this paint a small picture for you guys of the immense privilege we have as women to be sustainers and life-givers? We are endowed with incredible relational skills—the things that often come naturally to us, like a well-timed hug or a sustaining word of encouragement, can take guys a long time to learn. We need to lead the charge in this area at New Life, and therefore, we need special training and understanding.

What are the implications of our differences on a practical level when it comes to ministry?

Please hear me: I do not mean to imply that you can’t do anything that a man does. Not at all. In fact, most of the men and women in our church are doing the exact same work—leading lifegroups, following up young believers, discipling, reaching out to unbelievers, playing on a worship team or running a community service project. What I do mean to point out here is that there is a significant difference, generally speaking, between the way a life of ministry affects men and the way it affects women. Also, our influence will look and feel different to the people we reach out to.

I actually ran a very informal survey with the help of some spies and got some feedback from a few guys about what motivates them in ministry and what makes them thrive. It was interesting to hear how powerful it was for them to be involved in “the greatest work there is.” They see the impact, they have a vision, they want to see if they can do it; and one guy said he felt the most like a leader when he had sole ownership of something.

We’re definitely motivated by the impact of the work, but I would like to suggest that we thrive when we are doing the work in relationship. My husband Kevin said: “I’m willing to step out where somebody else isn’t going—I’m not going to wait around until somebody else says, “I’ll do it with you.” And not every guy is like this, but I was like, You know? I don’t think women are generally built that way. I think we are very capable of handling lots of responsibility on our own, but will we enjoy it? Will we thrive? Will it result in burn-out? This has been my experience and I’ve observed that other women have really struggled when they take something upon themselves with very little support from other like-minded women.

The main point of my talk tonight is that I believe it’s biblical for the women of the church to be extremely committed to supporting one another for the sake of the Kingdom. If you lead a small group or if you are actively seeking to build up the women in a small group, you are already doing this. But my fear is that in our passionate efforts to care for those less mature, we ourselves often feel uncared for. I want to go another step further and challenge each of you to make it a priority to support the other women leaders in your sphere—we hope this monthly time can help you do that, among other things.

So the purpose of dual core is relational at its heart. We certainly want to provide opportunities for you to be equipped in ministering to women in specific areas (we’ll be taking a survey at the end to get your suggestions, in fact). But what we love about this meeting is that it’s a chance to get all the women leaders and workers in a room together—to get a chance to look around and say, “I’m not alone; these are like-minded women.” We hope Dual Core will give you a chance to connect with some people you don’t know, to maybe meet some women who are older or younger than you. We want to give you a chance to bounce ideas off each other, encourage one another and make new friendships. We’re excited to cross some of the parameters between staff women, campus women and community women. I think it’s going to be a really valuable time, and there are new ideas popping up left and right.

Will you guys pray with me that God will use Dual Core in our lives? He cherishes womanhood—he created it. He wants us to connect and support and nurture. I’m praying that we will learn valuable and practical skills during this meeting, and that we will also feel a deeper kinship with the rest of the women who attend. God is moving at New Life in this area—I really believe it. I sense His heart for women in my own spirit and I’ve heard it expressed through many of you. I am really excited to see what He has in store for us."

if you live in southeast michigan...

2008-10-27T14:17:00.000-07:00

I'd like to direct you to Ali's blog: Amani is Coming.

I traveled with Ali and Theresa to Kenya back in May, and what they are doing here in the States to respond to their experience is thrilling and challenging. The vision for even taking this annual trip to Kenya is exactly this: that members of our church, so gifted and well-equipped in many ways, would apply their skills and their hearts to loving the needy. Please consider attending this event on November 8. It is open to the public and is being advertised throughout Ann Arbor.

We have purchased a diaper bag for the little lady (sturdy and stunning, totally unlike anything you'd find in an American store) and a little bag full of stuffed animals (Kevin actually got it for me in Nairobi at the Amani headquarters on Mother's Day). You won't be disappointed--the products are designed with Westerners in mind.

Here's some more info from Ali:

"We're writing to tell you about a non-profit organization in Africa and how you can help refugee women just by doing your Christmas shopping. This organization is called Amani Ya Juu, Swahili for "Peace from Above" or "Higher Peace." It's a program that started in Nairobi, Kenya but reaches out to refugee women from many African countries. Women are taught sewing skills and gain experience in purchasing, bookkeeping, design, and more, while seeds of peace are sown in their lives through cross-cultural relationships and Bible study.

The beautiful things they make are then sold in Kenya and around the world, and every single penny spent on their things is put back into the program, to give the women a fair wage and to continue training other women.

Saturday, November 8, from 11am to 3pm, we're bringing Amani to Ann Arbor. There will be many products for sale, ranging from journals to bags, kitchen and home decor to kids toys, beautiful jewelry, and more. Everything is unique, made by hand from African materials.

There will also be a raffle. The money from the raffle will go toward buying a new sewing machine for the women in Nairobi.

Please stop on by to learn more about Africa and purchase some unforgettable Christmas presents that really do give back!"

Amani sale
Saturday, Nov. 8, 2008 11am-3pm
New Life Church Building -- 1541 Washtenaw, Ann Arbor, MI 48104

is it worth it?

2008-09-20T18:06:00.000-07:00

After giving myself a few days of distance from my 9/8 and 9/10 posts plus comments, I’m still wondering if blogging is worth it. The whole experience of “the anonymous commenter” really threw me for a loop. On the one hand, I’m glad it gave me an opportunity to wrestle with God over what to do (and boy, did I wrestle), as well as to set some boundaries on my blog. At times, I was certain that good was coming from the situation, at the very least in my own personal life. On the other hand, some people to whom I told the story said, “That’s why some of us don’t blog,” and “That’s why I don’t get blogging.” Those comments were not meant to put me down, I know, but they carry with them a little bit of blame—like this was my fault. Like I shouldn’t have put myself out there in a vulnerable position for all the world to see. Cause that’s what’s wrong with blogs in the first place; they’re indiscriminate.

Do I just crave the attention that this blog provides? Is it wrong for me to share openly about my life and heart with anyone other than those who have won my trust and who also trust me?

Ironically, I’d like to be honest here. I felt a lot of shame in the last week about various things, but particularly about what happened on my blog. I’ll spare you the details, but I do want to say that I noticed something. Isn’t it odd that my outlet for writing, my forum for creativity, truthfully one of my main reasons for going part-time, felt like such a defeat? I was initially struck by how much like a demonic scheme that seemed. Or, as a friend pointed out, maybe God wanted to teach and refine me through this. Either way, now doesn’t seem to be the time to give up. I work so much less now, not because I’m an exhausted pregnant woman, but because it was clear back in March that I needed this. I needed the chance to test out my words, and maybe even my paintbrushes or camera. From my perspective, this blog motivates me to create.

I would really love your thoughts on this. What makes a blog worthwhile? What makes you read my blog? Do the pros outweigh the cons? Should I speak less openly about what’s going on in my life? If you wouldn’t mind taking the time to comment, it would mean a lot to me. I think it would also help me to know who reads this. Even if I don’t know you, I’m interested in your thoughts (with the exclusion of anonymous comments). Can I tempt you with a give-away?

Just kidding. It’s not that kind of blog, at least not right now.

Thanks, everybody.

dove does it again

2008-09-16T18:19:00.001-07:00

LOVE this.

Today I got my new 25-year-old license in the mail, and all I could think was "pregnant face." A video like this reminds me of some things I need to remember.

for keri

2008-09-11T16:52:00.000-07:00

"We live in such a way that no one will stumble because of us, and no one will find fault with our ministry. In everything we do, we show that we are true ministers of God. We patiently endure troubles and hardships and calamities of every kind. We have been beaten, been put in prison, faced angry mobs, worked to exhaustion, endured sleepless nights, and gone without food. We prove ourselves by our purity, our understanding, our patience, our kindness, by the Holy Spirit within us, and by our sincere love. We faithfully preach the truth. God’s power is working in us. We use the weapons of righteousness in the right hand for attack and the left hand for defense. We serve God whether people honor us or despise us, whether they slander us or praise us. We are honest, but they call us impostors. We are ignored, even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we are still alive. We have been beaten, but we have not been killed. Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything."
--2 Corinthians 6: 3-10

If I've ever seen this in action, I've seen it in you.

two angles

2008-09-10T10:33:00.000-07:00

I got an anonymous comment from Monday’s post that I thought I would wrestle with a bit. It’s definitely the first openly critical comment I’ve ever gotten; it hurts real bad, but it’s also good for me, I think.

I thought about deleting the comment and the post, but that seemed like image maintenance to me. I’ll be honest, the hurt I feel is entirely a product of my desire to look good. I read back through my post with different lenses, and I can see that it comes across as unfeeling—the girl at the bus stop is presented as a neutral prop in my setting, instead of as a soul, created by God and in need of real love. In fact, I need to ask her forgiveness for walking by, and ironically, I’ll be seeing her again in a few days, so I’ll be praying for courage. That said, I’m making a few changes to the post, but in general, I’m leaving it the same. Part of learning how to write is learning from mistakes and receiving criticism, and I can’t just erase every mis-step as if it never happened. The only reason to do so would be to make myself look good.

My intention in writing that post was to make fun of myself, to look back on the myriad selfish reasons why I often don’t say hi to people I know when I see them from a distance (this is certainly not the first time that’s happened). I hope it made me look a bit ridiculous, but if it didn’t, then I failed to paint the picture I intended. I feel genuinely convicted by God, even more now after receiving this comment, that I can’t ignore his people; not because I’m tired or in a hurry, and not even because I’m shy or afraid. I appreciate being called out on that.

***************

I would also like to come at this situation from another angle, so: permission to speak boldly. From here on out, I’ll be monitoring my comments more closely, and as a general rule, I won’t be posting anonymous comments. I’ve gotten a few in the past, and since I’m an avid blog reader, I’ve noticed that they provide license for saying pretty much whatever one wants without consequences. That is, of course, the nature of the internet these days, but I’ve seen extremely hurtful things happen to people I love at the hands of blogs. And I guess this blog has a longer reach than I realized. If you know me, love me and care about me, I will take constructive criticism from you any day, and the odds are good you already have my personal email address. Write away. In fact, I’m probably going to need some feedback for this post.

Since the comment references New Life, I’ve decided to speak up, although it’s hard to know what is meant by “New Life,” since it is a giant mass of individuals. Many of these individuals are my family, and while I personally may do a somewhat crappy job at loving people and have, on many occasions, run away from messiness, it is entirely untrue that we, as a church, avoid pain, brokenness and unhappiness. Let it be known that I AM A MESS, my husband is a mess and all my best friends are complete messes. We are hurting and very often unhappy.

But everyday I watch my husband pour out his life for other people in pain, and I watch my friends love and pursue people who are depressed, sick, addicted, afraid, or alone. Does anybody ever love perfectly? Definitely not. But these people have given up their lives to try to love like Jesus. They are washed in the blood of Christ, they are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, and there is NO condemnation for them. None.

I claim this truth of the Gospel on behalf of my family, not just at New Life, but all around the world.

***************

To my anonymous commenter: I'm bold in my words, because I want to respond to what you said. I am not condemning or judging you as a person. You have been hurt, I'm sure, and I completely understand your frustration. If I've met you before, is there any chance you'd want to hang out with me? I've been wrestling my whole life with that question of "how much of this is even real?" My own fakeness is despicable to me. I really want you to know what it has been like for me to learn how to truly love God, even in the midst of that temptation to hide. I'd like to be a listening ear for you too, if you're looking for one. Please feel free to facebook me...

take it or leave it

2008-09-08T19:02:00.000-07:00

Last week it was HOT in Ann Arbor. The students seemed optimistic, yet sweaty, on the first day of classes, and I was walking among them on my way back to New Life from the League. All the fluid in my body was descending quickly to my feet, the glare off the concrete was making my eyes squinty, and as I looked toward the future, the skin of my middle-aged years was looking more and more sun-damaged with every passing minute out there. I was, perhaps, waddling.

To my right (oh, if I’d only looked left!), a friend of mine sat in the shade of the bus stop, looking sad. My hipster wide-rimmed shades lended themselves nicely to peering at her out of the corner of my eye without turning my head. She didn’t notice me. Excellent. I kept walking.

Now, I happen to know that she probably was sad for a particular reason. It would have been really quite good of me to stop and talk to her. I was thinking these thoughts for the next block, along with: “NO. I refuse to turn around and go back. It is hot; I am tired. The bus will come soon anyway.”

I believe this was one of those take-it-or-leave-it moments that God gives me.

“Just go back.”

“Who me? Nah. Wait, who is this? Ha! I’m so silly. Not a big deal. Seriously.”

My question on the subject is: how much does God care whether or not I go back? Am I being sinful by moving forward toward the goal of elevating my legs? Or am I missing out on just one of the boundless ordinary opportunities to love others that God gives me? Listen, I certainly don't miss out on every opportunity. In fact, I’ve taken him up on quite a few of them. The truth is, I’m doing quite well at loving people, if I do say so myself.

But let me ask myself a question. How sweet could life be if I made it a goal to take God up on these promptings more frequently? In reality, they aren’t that numerous, and they aren’t that hard.

Often my reason for saying NO to God is my “spiritual green-ness.” Oh, I am very green indeed. From my perspective, my energy resources are very limited, draining quickly and Must! Be! Conserved! I join the ranks of many other devotedly green people by feeling genuinely panicked. At some point, the earth will be completely wiped out of its resources, and at some point, I will use my final drop of relational energy, have a nervous breakdown and die.

I can only laugh at myself. That, and remember the truth—that as I labor, “I am struggling with all [the Spirit’s] energy, which so powerfully works in me” (Colossians 1:29). I have to count on God to give me his strength to follow through on his ideas. He is trustworthy, and what he asks of me will not hurt me, at least not for long. His quiet calls beckon me to a more full life. I’ll be keeping my ear out.

disconcerting

2008-08-29T21:19:00.000-07:00

Today, Krysta posted this link to some free music:

So far, I am enjoying me some JJ Heller; however, I decided to putz around on her website and found her blog. Turns out she's due to have a baby girl six days before me, and she has graced us with some lovely photos of her nursery (compliments of Lovely Little Things). If you're interested in decorating, you should really check it out.

Forgive me for feeling slightly deflated when I contemplated the current state of things in my own little girl's room:

Yikes. It's not even the right color.

a little dream psychology

2008-08-28T10:43:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about the little lady last night. There were some strange elements—I came to the hospital to have a baby but didn’t feel or remember much of anything until she was born. She was absolutely beautiful but was somehow already able to walk. The most disturbing part was that I never established any sort of real attachment to her. I kept leaving her behind and forgetting about her, and I had this intense anxiety that I had entirely missed my chance to bond with her. Here she was, already walking, and I didn’t even know how to feed her.

Except for the fact that she was a drop-dead gorgeous baby, I think this might be categorized as a nightmare.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of the necessary research on labor and delivery, and I feel convicted by my dream--that maybe I'm becoming paranoid and not trusting God. Information is good, but I can't let it make me worry. Prayer would be good. Yes, maybe I should go pray. Ok, I'm gonna go pray now.

writing is a tricky task.

2008-08-10T20:06:00.000-07:00

Writing is a tricky task. I dream of having something truly worthwhile to say, something that other people would want to hear. Maybe I could publish a memoir someday? Does a 24-year-old have any right to contemplate writing a memoir? Still, I want to be involved in the craft somehow. But how?

This summer has been both discouraging and encouraging along these lines. In many ways, I have felt thwarted. In fact, almost completely diverted. The writing class I had planned to take in Virginia Beach, which was, amazingly, one about creating a spiritual memoir, ended up starting around the time we left. I’ve also found that I’m not one to volunteer information about being pregnant, despite the fact that this milestone fills my thoughts. This blog is the perfect place to practice, but it haunts me with its archives full of forced word choice.

Other circumstances have recently spurred me on, however. Yesterday I was given several chapters from a book-in-progress about living with hormone fluctuations—my job is simply to provide feedback. I feel an excitement creeping in, because here is a subject on which I could genuinely contribute, not as the writer, but as a person speaking from experience. As a side note, I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind having my name listed in the acknowledgments. Even more encouraging, the spiritual malaise of my first trimester (and really the last year of my life) is giving way to a deeper, truer relationship with God, and I’ve discovered I have more to talk about than just being pregnant. I don’t want this to become a mommy blog (Baby A, or Wee Strong as we call her, can have her own website); I want to keep talking about matters of the spirit. Hopefully a little deep calling to deep will happen, both the result of and beyond the realm of motherhood.

Finally, I’ve decided that a painful reading through old blog entries might make an excellent exercise in developing my voice. I don’t want to write something just because it sounds good. I want to write it because I mean it. I can detect a false motive in a single word when I read some of my past blogs—I don’t want this to make me feel ashamed, so that I end up deleting most of my entries. I want this to remind me to test the words I use now for authenticity and truth.

What I’m saying is: I have something to say. I should say it.

at which point, life changes drastically (yet again)

2008-07-01T15:44:00.001-07:00

Wow. March 28th. That's kind of ridiculous.

But guess what? I have the best excuse ever!!

Baby Armstrong decided to make his/her presence known on April 7, after which I stopped posting, because I didn't really feel like writing about some random thing going on in my life, when the fact is: aaaaahhhhh!!! I'm having a baby!!!!

In case you interpreted that "aahh" as "Yippee, this is so exciting, and I'm experiencing maternal bliss!"--well, that's kind of true to a certain degree, but it's also: "Wow, I feel like crap and I want to sleep all the time, and this is not what I was planning for my life, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it."

In reality, the last three months of my life have been some of the hardest ever. Since finding out, we 1) had to go to the ER, got diagnosed with a "high risk" pregnancy (which later turned out to be a mis-diagnosis), 2) went to Kenya for two weeks, which consisted of me spending most of the time on the couch and/or losing my mind, 3) left three days after our return from Kenya for LT in Virginia Beach, and 4) got adjusted to the violent mood swings, nausea, cravings for ranch dressing, and extreme fatigue of a pregnant woman in her first trimester. Whoa.

Life has leveled out significantly, and I am now one excited mama. I've been feeling the baby move for the first time this week, which is nuts! I am now at the beginning of the 17th week, and here is a photo for your viewing pleasure, taken right before heading off to a sweet fireworks show (there were local and professional shows up and down the beach, so it felt like we were actually in the middle of the fireworks). I'm not actually this big all the time, but we had just eaten a crazy good meal, ala Bobby Flay (Kevin's new muse).

Hey there, little person.

taking a long soak in big differences

2008-03-28T19:49:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have never taken the Myers-Briggs personality test (also known as the Keirsey Temperament sorter), let me enlighten you: you must take it. And then you must allow me to enlighten you about you. I think I'm going to be writing more about this in the future.

Did you know that for the four larger personality categories (Artisan, Guardian, Idealist, Rational), there are specific hand gestures that people of the different types tend to use? And that it actually rings true in almost every case that I've observed? It's gotten so that I can pretty much say what personality type a person is, without even thinking about their personality, but simply by watching them.

Did you know that if you are an Intuitive-Perceiver, like me, meaning you are an abstract thinker and you're pretty indecisive, that you are at the absolute bottom rung on the ladder of efficiency and productivity?? And that it's not because you totally suck and you're lazy, but because you have very different priorities than many other people? Glory be!

Did you know that most extraverts are able to figure out what they're thinking as long as they're talking, but become confused if they don't share their thoughts? Did you know that, without time to process alone, introverts get more confused about their own thoughts the more they talk about them? I was wondering (and so was Kevin) why it takes so darn long for me to answer just one simple question.

Did you know that if you are a "Sensing" person, then the odds are pretty good that you're thinking right now: This is kind of cool, but really, who cares?

What I'm trying to communicate is that we're all different--did you know that? Come on, do you really believe it? Or do you expect people to react like you would to the situations of life? Do you look down on them for not valuing what you value? Do you compare yourself to someone else and think you're falling way short in various areas?

I think we are quick to abuse our personalities--mainly, we force them to do something they weren't meant to do. But I want to say right now, Thank you, Jesus, for making me who I am. I want to be ME.

On that note, thought I'd let you know that sometime in the next few months, I'm changing to part-time staff at New Life. I am actually loving what I do now, but I'm doing too much of it and not enough other stuff. So what I'm going to do with that extra time is take some writing workshops, and I'm going to write for awhile. Just to see what happens.

My work will most likely be published.

On this blog. Heh heh.

first day of spring

2008-03-21T20:57:00.000-07:00

“It’s pretty,” we agree.

A moment later, as worn-out wipers disperse the fluffy, perfect little mess, Kevin tests the brakes. Ahead of us, a red car careens soundlessly, over the curb and through a patch of shrubs by the sidewalk, halting ashamedly at the foot of the grumpy house on the corner.

wrestling with a nasty procrastination habit

2008-02-18T10:27:00.000-08:00

petty crimes of forgetfulness:
failing to avoid failure, as I
drag and defer.

who drags the sea of days for my wasted time?

does my life leak out
through the crack of my unwillingness?

a little flannery (or a long philosophical post)

2008-02-17T09:06:00.000-08:00

"Oh, Matt. There are spaces of sorrow only God can touch. You did a terrible thing, Matt, a terrible thing. But you have a dignity now. Nobody can take that from you. You are a son of God, Matthew Poncelet."

I'm like a broken record, but I'm unrelenting and unapologetic about that. Hopefully there are enough individual nuances to each post, so that even though they all say the same thing, they're still worth reading.

Last night Kevin and I watched the movie Dead Man Walking (see quote). It had been sitting in its Netflix sleeve for over a week, because we knew it would be tough to watch--not exactly your typical Valentine's Day flick. But we both felt up to it last night, because we'd had a pretty restful day, and I can now confidently say that this movie drove my ability to worship Jesus this morning. As with The Kite Runner, I can't openly recommend it, because it is utterly painful and horrifying at times (I would absolutely not recommend it to anyone who has ever been abused in any way). But if you're open to it and up for it, I would say, give it a shot, but read some Flannery O'Connor first.

If it seems like this woman is the one dead person with whom I'd like to spend a day, then I've represented myself correctly. Yesterday morning, without knowing how much it would help me understand the movie, I read an article by her called "The Church and the Fiction Writer" and then promptly stumbled (without even looking) upon an article written about her called "Who's Afraid of Flannery O'Connor?" by Douglas Jones, which I would recommend if you want a sweeping overview of her work. Both wrestle with the question of whether or not Christians must be willing to face abundant horror in order to understand abundant grace.

Flannery O'Connor's characters are total creeps, just exactly the kind of people you would hope never to meet on the street. I've been saying for two years that The Violent Bear It Away is my favorite book in all the world, but I think I am just now beginning to understand why. A spare summary here (don't read if you want to experience the shock of it all on your own): 1) kid is hellfire-brimstone despicable, 2) kid drowns his disabled cousin, 3) kid gets horribly and randomly abused, 4) kid experiences the extension of God's merciful hand into a frightening and horrible landscape of suffering. (All the credit for the fact that I understand this book at all goes to my favorite professor of all time, Cindy Sowers, the one living person with whom I'd like to spend a day, to see if I can find out what she's really thinking).

"The violent bear it away" is the King James Version of "forceful men take hold of it," which I quoted from Matthew 11 in December. God is weaving this verse into my very essence. (Too dramatic?) It's true! In O'Connor's book, the violent boy takes hold of the kingdom of heaven and bears it away. I don't think that's what those KJV dudes meant when they translated it that way, but I know it's what good ol' Flannery meant!

This is where Dead Man Walking comes in. This movie was the bare, ugly bones of the Gospel: that Jesus accepts even the murderers and rapists (though we don't want to know it), and in the end, they probably understand what's really happening better than anybody. And it's beautifully and violently clear--you don't have to derive your own Christian meaning. People are talking about Jesus and thanking Jesus and crying to Jesus the whole time, even while the vicious sin of the crime is available for all to see, reminding us, the viewers, that there's a reason we all need our Deliverer.

The film was broken up from beginning to end by short shots of the crime, so that I could never forget what had really happened. It helped me remember that murder is real, rape is real. This is important, because it's easy to say that God will accept even a rapist, when you don't have to think about the brutal reality of it. But Jesus looks upon the crime without a filter, weeps and holds the wounded ones, and then extends forgiveness to the criminal. I've never known Jesus' love to be that big, never tried to get it till now. Dead Man Walking made it real for me.

∴

There are other people who have a little Flannery in them:

--Brennan Manning (he writes in The Ragamuffin Gospel: "At Sunday worship, as in every dimension of our existence, many of us pretend to believe we are sinners. Consequently, all we can do is pretend to believe we have been forgiven. As a result, our whole spiritual life is pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss.")
--Sufjan Stevens (John Wayne Gacy, Jr. is a song about a serial killer that makes me sick to listen to, but there's the line: "On my best behavior, I am really just like him. Look beneath the floor boards for the secrets I have hid." And then there's Seven Swans: "He will take you. If you run, He will chase you." That's a rather foreboding sort of grace, but I like it.)
--Over the Rhine (Everyman's Daughter: "I carry the inward aching. Like you, I too am naked. I don’t look that good, but this is flesh and blood. I’m everyman’s daughter.")
--Rainer Maria Rilke ("We must not portray you in king's robes, you drifting mist that brought forth the morning...")

I'm always looking for more.

right here, right now

2008-02-03T21:04:00.000-08:00

At New Life, we've been talking about "the Kingdom" and what it means to pray for God's kingdom to come and His will to be done on earth, as it is in heaven. This means thinking about things, both big and small, in terms of how God's kingdom might come right here, right now. The bulk of the work is small.

Last Sunday was a big day for me though. A representative from Compassion International brought 100 pictures of children who need sponsors. He also brought along George, a Kenyan man, perhaps my age, who was the first child to be sponsored in his specific project in Nairobi, back in the 80s. Right now, he is getting his MBA and wants to go into public health in Kenya, specializing in infectious diseases.

I got to go out to lunch with George and some others. I also got to man one of the Compassion tables and watch as people searched the faces to find their child. After hearing George's stories about life in Kenya, the impact $35 a month makes, the kind of changes that can happen in a country at the hands of its children--I knew that these flat-broke college students were going to see God's kingdom come in their midst in big and small ways. I'm not sure I've ever been this sure that I am right in the thick of it. Right here, right now.

∴

My second book of 2008 was The Kite Runner. If you feel willing to open the floodgates of your inner sanctum, go ahead and read it. I wasn't totally prepared--that's why I'm warning you. I'm unsure about how to talk about it. The general plotline is a major stretch, particularly towards the end. The prose is often beautiful, but then sometimes I felt insulted by the author, like, "Thanks, but I was catching on to that on my own."

I guess it doesn't really matter, though, because the characters were so real. Since the vast majority of the book takes place in modern Afghanistan, the characters were also in a whole lot of pain, and the things that happened to them were unimaginable; also unimaginably commonplace, as if they weren't that big of a deal.

There is a character named Ali, who had polio as a child and thus walks with a limp, swinging one leg out to the side with each stride. There were little boys. It's hard to even think about them.

The question that rolled through my mind right after I finished the book was: How would I react if I could truly confront the fact that these things happen to real people, not just to characters in books? It was 4AM, during that sick time when I wasn't sleeping much, and I asked God to send me rejected children to adopt someday.

I remember wondering if I'd care as much about this when I woke up the next day.

∴

I think I still care, I really do. Kevin and I chose a Compassion boy named Johnston, who's 14, and just not that cute anymore. My guess is he's been waiting for several years to get a sponsor. The older ones rarely, if ever, get picked, because those little three-year-olds are absolutely irresistible. Still, Johnston, I have to say, it's good to know you. I hope to meet you.

I have to ask myself if I am writing this to proclaim my good deeds before men. If you like me more, whomever it is that reads this, then I guess that's my reward.

But truly, this what I'm thinking about these days. This is what is on my mind. I am overwhelmed and moved by the lonely and rejected, the ones that nobody wants. I want those people to know the love of Jesus through me. I really really do.

what i'll be doing at 4am

2008-01-24T12:23:00.000-08:00

As a small window into my life, I thought I'd let you know that I'll be staying up all night tonight. This was not my idea. At Michigan, there is an event called the 40 Days of Prayer that has been happening annually. There is a prayer room on campus open 24 hours a day for 40 days, and anyone from any organization or church can use it to pray. I hear it's pretty cool in there, though I haven't visited. In general, this sort of thing makes me wonder: "Where am I? Cause I'm pretty sure I'm at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor...but maybe not."

There was an opening ceremonies of sorts, during which one of the organizers challenged us to spend one whole night in prayer. I kind of chuckled to myself. You know how these college kids can be--so passionate and energetic. Hope they have a good time.

So then Katie, this girl in my small group whom I pretty much adore and who has a lovely unique way of influencing people just by being herself--she comes up with this idea that maybe our whole small group could do an all-nighter. I guess I should have seen this coming.

So tonight, I think of myself in solidarity with people like Linn and Glenn and all you missionaries out there who have to go to wakes and all-night evangelistic events. You're brave souls. I'm really hoping I'll survive this, in honor of you.

Last time I stayed up all night to "pray," I was in high school, and I made a pretty impulsive decision around 4AM. It was a weird experience. This is a step of faith for me, that it'll be different.

Now I'm off to take a nap.

maybe in 2008 i'll write about these things

2008-01-19T19:38:00.000-08:00

I know I've said this before, but I would like to post more often and get in the habit of writing about what is going on with my work. There are a few things that I'm feeling pretty excited about, so I'm hoping to tell you about them in the next few months.

As a preview:
--I actually started counseling on Wednesday. I have had this sense that God is using this time in my life to give me emotional health and stability. Lately it is very clear that my emotional volatility holds me back from a lot of things, particularly in ministry. The woman I met with asked me questions about my family tree and the timeline of my life, and we unexpectedly focused a little bit on high school, a period of time I haven't thought much about lately. It was kind of strange to go back and think about how some of those events still effect me now.
--I've been mulling over the concept of "women's leadership development" and how we as women are typically motivated to serve in the church. I don't think I'm coming up with any original ideas when I throw out that we're ridiculously different from men. At the risk of generalizing things too much, I'm developing some theories in my own mind about a woman's need for security in ministry versus a man's need for significance. A man might ask, "Do I have what it takes to succeed in this role?" A woman might ask, "Who will go with me?" Bottom line: women need something very different, and I'd like to that difference to become more acknowledged in the fabric of our church. Not sure what that means, but I sure do sound like Elisabeth Elliott right now. Heh.
--We're leading a trip to downtown Detroit for spring break, and I am feeling like Detroit might just be the only place I'd want to spend a week right about now. I have no idea why, but I'm drawn in and excited.

In the meantime, I'm sick as a dog. I seriously haven't been this sick since I was a kid. It started a week ago with a sore throat that lasted for five days, and yesterday, the sore throat seemed to creep up the right side of my neck and then settle in my ear. Unfortunately, I was the CORE retreat by then, so I took some Nyquil last night and hoped for sleep. Before I could settle in, though, I started in with this dry cough that I still have today. No more aching ear, but everything seems to be clogged up, and still, the perpetual sore throat. I've been in and out of work for the last week, without a real sick day that goes from waking up to going to bed. Maybe I should do that tomorrow.

cursed are the ones who can't abide

2008-01-14T20:34:00.000-08:00

I'm still swimming in revelations.

This song got me through several very nasty nights in November, and I kept wanting to post it. Strangely, I've never considered Shane & Shane a favorite band, but the last song that moved me this much was by them. (This version was the best I could find on YouTube, despite a bit from John Piper during the long postlude.)

Embracing Accusation

The father of lies
coming to steal, kill and destroy
all my hopes of being good enough.
I hear him say, "Cursed are the ones who can't abide."
He's right. Hallelujah. He's right.
The devil is preaching
the song of redeemed,
that I am cursed and gone astray.
I cannot gain salvation.
Embracing accusation.
Could the father of lies
be telling the truth
of God to me tonight?
If the penalty of sin is death
then death is mine.
I hear him say, "Cursed are the ones who can't abide."
He's right. Hallelujah. He's right.
The devil is preaching
the song of the redeemed,
that I am cursed and gone astray.
I cannot gain salvation.
Oh the devil's singing over me
an age-old song
that I am cursed and gone astray.
Singing the first verse so conveniently over me.
He's forgotten the refrain:
Jesus saves.

I've been meaning to say thank you to the anonymous commenter from my last post. Your note was an encouragement and a surprise to Kevin and me. I've been wondering if I ever met you, because I came to Ann Arbor in 2001.

forceful men

2007-12-16T12:54:00.001-08:00

Due to the fact that nobody seems to care to post anymore and I am therefore not sufficiently entertained, I thought maybe I'd post for once. I shouldn't have to do this, though. Don't give me your excuses: that it's Christmas, or that you're writing a book inspired by your blog, or that you need to spend more time with your family, or that you're in the hospital having a baby. I've heard enough. Get back to work!

I'm snowed in, however, and have lately been thinking of things I'd like to post about, so I'll cut you some slack for now.

I've been describing my semester (yes, I still think in semesters) in terms of the difference between a chisel and a sledgehammer. These are two metaphorical tools that God uses on my hellbound devotion to spiritual greatness.

Over the years, He's been kind and gentle: "tink tink" goes the chisel, oh so softly. Lately, it's been otherwise. He's coming at me with the ferocity of a rescuer, crushing that little beast within with a sledgehammer or a jackhammer or a hammerhead shark. What have you. At the risk of seeming melodramatic--oh forget it, the whole point is not worrying how I "seem"--this has been ridiculously painful. I'm really attached to my little beast. I feel comfortable with it, though it does trap me and keep me perpetually depressed.

I believe God is teaching me to be happy. I've never felt I deserve to be happy unless I prove I have the discipline and maturity to handle it well. BUT "the splendor of a soul in grace is so seductive it surpasses the beauty of all created things" (The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning).

Find the overarching theme here:

"Her world has collapsed. The God she had fashioned in her own image, so pleased with her piety, has vanished." (TRG)

"Many of us do not want the truth about ourselves; we prefer to be reassured of our virtue."

"A vast horde of souls were rumbling toward heaven. [They came] marching behind the others with great dignity, accountable as they had always been for good order and common sense and respectable behavior. They alone were on key. Yet she could see by their shocked and altered faces that even their virtues were being burned away." (Revelation, Flannery O'Connor).

"I tell you the truth: Among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it" (Matthew 11:11-12).

Could it be that "spiritual greatness" is of very little consequence? After all this time?

The forceful men and women taking hold of the kingdom are the tax collectors and prostitutes, the dim-witted disciples and the little kids; these are the people who truly know Jesus.

Oh.

blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

2007-10-30T13:06:00.000-07:00

Little Girl

I’m walking on the sidewalk under golden shade as school lets out. Half a block behind me walks a little girl. I first notice she’s there, because her shoes scuff the sidewalk with every step. She shuffles along, heading for home.

I approach the crossing guard, brilliant and orange. She smiles at me first, then looks back and calls the little girl by name. We part ways here, as the little girl steps into the street and the crossing guard plants herself firmly in the intersection, poised with her STOP sign. The streets are empty in every direction.

The guard is silent and smiling, her only job to protect. This little girl’s life is extravagant beauty, infinite worth. The drawings and pencils in her backpack, the color of her shoes, her thoughts of home--defend and shelter them. This is one little girl in the universe, and she is crossing the street.

the new look

2007-10-22T09:55:00.001-07:00

Pretty much everything in my life needs to be simplified. My header's still lame.

on it being worth it

2007-10-07T19:20:00.000-07:00

I do indeed have the nerve to carry on posting without more than a nod to the fact that, yes, I did just get married and begin a new life with a man, who is now my husband. The picture will have to suffice. Or if you’d like to watch our slideshow, you are very welcome.

Life is moving forward. Right now I’m trying to deal with the fact that we’ve just painted our living room a color that can only be called peach. We were going for a nice neutral tan.

Also, September was the craziest. I’ve been fighting fatigue and a cold, and as I sit here, I’m wondering if it might even be strep throat, because I heard it’s going around. I find it hard to feel like I’m thriving.

This morning I woke up feeling very dreadful--as in, dreading the day ahead. Sunday mornings are sometimes difficult for me, because they involve a lot of people, particularly a lot of people whom I don’t know. And I knew I’d be picking my friend Ying up, to bring her to church. She’s from China, and I’ve known her for a year; she’s a sweet one. But today I dreaded the language barrier and the pressure to keep the conversation rolling. And how do I debrief with her about church? She has told me that she believes almost everything the Bible says about Jesus, but how do I help her move forward in faith? Frankly, not only have I been fighting a cold, I’ve been fighting an attitude problem. Today I thought to myself that I’m sick of this whole others-centeredness thing. Overrated.

A cool thing happened though. While I was sitting on the couch in the parlor, waiting for the first service to end, I watched two little boys. They’re brothers, Max and I-wish-I-knew-the-other-one’s-name. Look alikes and the spitting image of their dad. The older one was talking to the younger, and the little guy just put his hand on his brother’s chest, with so much trust and affection. And the older brother really seemed to want the company and attention of the younger one, and it was like setting a bone. I remembered why we’re all so gung-ho about love. It’s what we need and want. It’s what Ying needs from me, it’s what I want to give her. It makes the work I do more worth it than I’m aware. Ying is worth every spare moment that I give her, every awkward interaction. I want her to know that she is infinitely valuable.

august 12, 2007

2007-08-21T10:56:00.001-07:00

Monument, CO

i'm a settler

2007-07-22T20:26:00.000-07:00

Oops. I just read through my New Year's resolutions, which I posted earlier, and I'm very sorry to say that not one of them has been kept by me. I'm blaming it on the about-face my life took on February 2nd, when I decided to get married, and on the rather intense unsettledness that has characterized my days ever since.

I should define "unsettled"--in my mind, it's that feeling of never being quite where you know you will perhaps be at some unknown point in the future. Errrrr.

All that to say: exactly three weeks until I will be Meghan Armstrong. Whoa nelly!

living with women

2007-07-12T20:38:00.000-07:00

As I’ve contemplated getting married, and even as I have looked forward so much to getting to live with Kevin, I’ve also been feeling a little grief as I say goodbye to this era of my life that has been “living with women.” Sometimes when Jen and I are going to bed around the same time and debriefing about life, I feel like crying.

So this is an ode to my six years of living with women in the form of a list of all my roommates:

Jenny Kreinbrink : 315 Hayden House, East Quad, freshman year
Ariane Boese : Africa, 2002
Lindsay Horan : 424 Tyler House, East Quad, sophomore year (this had to have been the biggest room on campus)
Karen Ostafinski (bedmate) : LT Orlando, 2003
Heather Lieder : East Madison Street and Sagebrush Circle; junior and senior years, as well as my first year as a working person
Meredith and Carey : Florence, Italy, 2004
Jess Hibma (bedmate), Jen King, and Kristin Roelofson : LT Virginia Beach 2006
Jen King : Medford Street, 2006 – 2007

Each of these lovely women put up with me as I walked in my sleep, talked in my sleep, and generally made a mess.

And I can’t leave out all the people with whom at one time I shared a front door and refrigerator space: Jenni, Michelle, Carlee, Vanessa, April, Katie, Sara, Nicola, Judi, Anna, Julia, Kendra, Jineane, Kristen, Natalie, Dana, Kendra G., Kaitlyn, Julie, Shawn, Hayley, and Charis.

Many of them (more specifically, my most recent roommates) put up with my obsession with the Food Network, my awkward yoga poses, my guilt-induced, anal-retentive recycling habit, and/or my falling in love with a guy who lived across the street.

the gray kitchen

2007-07-01T18:13:00.000-07:00

Kevin and I closed on our condo on Friday and boy, am I excited. We immediately began on some simple improvements like paint and hardware, and in three days, the kitchen looks like new. We painted it a lovely gray and added new brushed silver cabinet handles, and that was all it took. Fortunately, the thing is 7x7' so we painted it in no time flat.

Today I got to unpack my wedding gifts and put them on shelves and in drawers. It truly feels like this is OUR place, and I have never had that feeling before.

Our next project is painting one wall in the dining room, and I couldn't figure out what color to use until the gray kitchen was finished. Now it's begging for a subtle blue-green with some black shelves to make up for the wretchedly lacking cabinet space in the kitchen.

I think the reason this is exciting for me, along with the wedding, is the fact that I'm getting a chance to create a space; create anything, really, for the first time in awhile. Even though I pretty much hated photography during school, I miss all my art classes and the accountability that they provided. The deadlines were what I hated and what I felt stunted me, but I should have appreciated them more. Now we have this deadline of putting our home in order by the time we get back from our honeymoon, and the deadline is making things happen.

great great great

2007-06-27T13:41:00.000-07:00

I'm very excited about the wedding. Despite the fact that I'm a horrible planner, I can see ways in which my personal style is coming through without too much effort. There will be bright and geometric table runners, modern flower arrangements, photographs involving sweeping vistas, live music, my great great great grandmother's gold cross and my parents' backyard.

And then, of course, there will be Kevin.

my apologies

2007-06-16T20:26:00.000-07:00

I had such good intentions of updating every week, and now that I've proved to be so wretched at it, I bet no one even reads this. I do dream of a time when life is not quite so busy, but will that time come? Maybe I'm more of a blog-reader than a blog-writer. Just the same, here's some stuff:

--the little condo on Kellogg is soon to be ours, if we can work out a plan to get a radon mitigation system installed.

--whoever's out there reading this, you must read Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. I think I'll post some quotes next chance I get, because it's just so lovely. And won the Pulitzer Prize.

kellogg street

2007-05-26T19:38:00.001-07:00

As a quick update to the ever-shifting home-buying saga, Kevin and I put an offer on an itty bitty condo on Kellogg Street yesterday. It's a block from the river, a block from the train tracks (big PLUS in my book), within easy biking distance of campus and within walking distance of Kerrytown and the farmers' market. Not to mention the Malones and Karl would be practically next door. I'm thinking of asking Mike and Natalie if I can have a little garden plot in their yard, and maybe, just maybe, a corner for compost. They have a huge yard. Luckies.

Who knows though. We totally low-balled the homeowner and she barely budged in her counter offer. We're increasing our offer by a little and if she doesn't accept, it's on to other six condos in this complex that are for sale. This one was particularly lovely on the inside, though. I'd like to live on Kellogg Street I think.

focus

2007-05-10T20:11:00.000-07:00

I hate leaving really short posts with not much information, but just wanted to say that at this point, there seem to be two extremely essential character traits that one needs in life: gratefulness and generosity.

In my very mild autistic-ness, I like how that helps me focus.

ghost in the graveyard

2007-03-27T10:40:00.000-07:00

(this is a post from my old blog, but i thought i'd post it again. kevin and i drove by my old house yesterday, and i showed him the backyard. there are powerful memories there. i'm wondering where we'll raise our children...)

"richland lane was untrafficked, hushed, planted in great shade trees, and peopled by wonderfully collected children. they were sober, sane, quiet kids, whose older brothers and sisters were away at boarding school or college. every warm night we played organized games--games that were the sweetest part of those sweet years, that long suspended interval between terror and anger.

on the quiet dead-end side street, among the still brick houses under their old ash trees and oaks, we paced out the ritual evenings. i saw us as if from above, even then, even as i stood in place living out my childhood and knowing it, aware of myself as if from above and behind, skinny and exultant on the street. we are silent, waiting or running, spread out on the pale street like chessmen, stilled as priests, relaxed and knowing."

--annie dillard, an american childhood

night games. there was perhaps only one summer when there were enough of us who were the right age, living in the three houses. we lived on a dead-end and our elderly neighbors tolerated us, as we shrieked and counted and occasionally fought till the swooping bats came out for food. it was so good of the sun to stay above the horizon until almost nine o'clock.

these were moments of simple magic--curled up in hiding spots just on the edge of deep woods, caught, running for your life and shaking the moist dirt from your palms; hearing your dad call (reluctantly) that it was time to come in, coming in sweaty and filthy, rapturous; taking a cool shower to cool down, exhausted, falling asleep with cool, wet hair, comfortable and ready. tomorrow you'd ride your bike around your little world, either to stroh's for ice cream or to the tennis club to shake off your shoes and practice flips off the high dive.

"glory be, i thought, during all those weeks, hallelujah, and never told a soul."

i am holding half an acre torn from the map of Michigan...

2007-03-21T13:48:00.000-07:00

It's been almost two months since I've posted. In that time:

Kevin proposed to me. At the Detroit Institute of Arts. On Groundhog Day. I said yes and have since gotten quite used to having such a stunning ring on my hand. I'm head over heels in love with him.

We picked a date. August 12 in Colorado. It'll be in my parents' backyard.

I spent spring break in New York City.

We fell in love with a house in Ann Arbor and put an offer on it. It was accepted.

Today I found out that the foundation is probably in really horrible shape (~$60,000-worth of work) and unless a miracle happens, the homeowners probably won't fix it for us.

I cried at first when I found out, because after our offer got accepted, I started to picture us in that house. I had an idea of where I would put plants in the kitchen, of how our bedroom would look, of who would come visit us and be our guests. I wanted the yard, the wood-burning fireplace, the old-house character.

I'm wondering if I have the courage to pray for a miracle. I'm wondering if this is something God wants for us at all. It's hard to imagine what it would be like in five years to decide to move to Kenya or anywhere else God might call us, with this house on our hands and in our hearts. It was always a step of faith to move forward with this, but now I'm finding that I just want to be passive. I want to sit back and let whatever happens happen, saying "Thy will be done" instead of engaging with God in real prayer from my heart. Asking. But I don't even know what I want anymore. Honestly, I feel afraid. There seemed to be a path opening up for us on which to walk. Now that it's no longer so visible, I'm forgetting what I'm about. It's amazing how a simple thing like a house could confuse me so much.

I am finding, though, after trying to hash this out, that the only thing for me to do at this point is keep moving, keep remaining active. Tonight I'm going to the dorms to spend time with Anna, who really wants to understand why so much bad stuff has happened to her, despite her faith in God. Later I'm going to watch Lost with Kevin, and it'll be one of the first times in awhile when we can do something truly carefree together. Somewhere in there I'll find out about whether or not this house will be ours, and either way, I'll be ok, which is really really really good to know.

hope week

2007-01-27T09:44:00.000-08:00

I'm sensing that change is in the wind.

Last semester, I felt slumped over. I think a lot of people felt that way. I wasn't praying very much, and I know that didn't set any sort of good example for the people I was leading. To be honest, I didn't want to work hard, and then I felt bad about myself for not wanting to work hard, and then that de-motivated me even more. I struggled to connect with God consistently and emotionally.

This week made me sit up and take notice. God is moving. I know my heart is returning to the bottom line about why I'm doing what I'm doing.

Monday was Kyle C's birthday, and we welcomed him to staff meeting with a tunnel and cheers. We love each other. A lot. Then we worshiped together. Then Shah gave us some thoughts he's had lately about the culture of American college life. All of us, including him, saw ourselves in what he described--the self-absorbed performance mentality, materialism and drive to be entertained. It was humbling and insightful, and I felt convicted. But I didn't feel alone. We're broken, but we're in this together.

Tuesday afternoon, Melissa and I went to Caribou and talked about how life changes so quickly in campus ministry and how "the shuffle" is hard. People we love are gone in four years. Everybody's busy and it's hard to keep in touch. Deep relationships tend to be very seasonal. Later we met up with Chris, Kyle and Shah to talk about the two North Campus New Life Teams (one led by Chris and me, the other by Kyle and Melissa). Chris really encouraged me after I talked about how part of me is still wondering if what I'm doing is "worth it." He pointed out where I've made a difference--mostly places that I didn't ever notice. Then the five of us watched footage from the Willow Creek Leadership Summit 2006 of a line of people holding up cards. On the front, each person had written what their life was like before Christ had transformed it. Then as they walked to the front of the stage, they flipped their card to show what their life is like now that they know Jesus. I cried. We're talking about doing something similar at our building dedication service.

Tuesday night I had lifegroup with Carly, and we talked about how Jesus "set out resolutely" for Jerusalem to accomplish His main goal on the earth, to die for us. I was wondering what the five of us were going to set out resolutely to do this semester as a lifegroup. As we talked, it became clear that all three of the younger girls are struggling with deep questions about the trustworthiness of God. Why do Christians suffer? One of the girls lost nine family members over a period of four months. Why do bad things happen to morally good people? The bottom line: is God good? Is He just?

He is so good. He is the God of justice.

Tuesday night there were around thirty of us in a room in Bursley, calling out to God and praising Him like I haven't heard in a long time. There is a song on the newest Hillsong album "Mighty to Save" called "Higher." There is a bridge where all the men sing: "He is so great and waiting to be praised by you." This is what I want for the people on North Campus--the ability to worship the God of the universe.

Wednesday I allot four hours to spend time with God. Usually it's a rough time for me. I always get intensely drowsy, perhaps because it's the only time during the day that I'm not really DOING something. I struggle with staying attentive in prayer or whatever it is I'm attempting to do. I feel weak. This time I fell asleep for one of the four hours, but then I woke up and read Romans 8-11. After reading the part about God foreknowing me, predestining me, calling me, justifying me and glorifying me, I started to ask the question: is God good? Is He just? Why are some chosen and others not?

You know how Paul always reads your mind? Romans 9:19-21 "One of you will still say to me: 'Then why does God still blame us? For who resists his will?' But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? "Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, 'Why did you make me like this?"' Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?" and Romans 11:33-36 "Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! 'Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?' 'Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?' For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen." I'm becoming more and more convinced that belief in God and His goodness is my only option. Not because I can't bear the thought of anything else, but because I am the creation. I know nothing. Am I too simplistic? Is my faith unreasonable?

The girls in my lifegroup need to worship the God of the universe.

Thursday I went to BSF with Gaia, and we studied Romans 9:1-5. The only thing I can say is that I marvel at God's commitment to the Jews, and I cannot fathom the day when the deliverer will turn godlessness away from Zion.

Friday morning, Kevin, Hilary and I brainstormed and prayed about something that's been on Kevin's heart for a long time. Street kids in Africa (and elsewhere, I'm guessing) are constantly hungry, so they steal or trade for cobbler's glue, which they sniff to get a high that will stem the hunger pangs. After awhile, many of them choose glue over food, and their brains, due to the chemicals they're taking in, lose much of their function. They're lives are over by their teen years. The question on the table is: could this become a cause for New Life Church? So many now know about Darfur, child soldiers, and conflict diamonds. Those issues are perhaps bigger. But could we find an activist niche for our church? Could we work with Elmers and other glue companies to work against this problem? We're naive, and really, it's just the three of us. But I'm learning to love more and more the simple posture of prayer at the foot of the sheer rock face of injustice. We'll see what happens. Perhaps LIFE will happen.

Last night, Kevin and I got Vietnamese food, and we talked, and I feel stunned by how good he is to me.

This morning, Saturday, there's a lot to do, but I finally made my bed and watered my plants, and I feel hopeful.

bricks and bridges

2007-01-20T06:42:00.000-08:00

I attempted to get up a little early this morning and post. Saturday mornings are even scheduled in as my "blog time." I'm really trying to develop a routine--maybe then I'd actually do this.

Baby steps. I only had a half hour to write this morning, and even then, I was late for work at the building. Today, risking frostbite, we loaded debris from out front into trash cans to be thrown in the giant dumpster around back. I'm pretty darn invested in this new auditorium, thanks to all the work the staff team has put into it.

--fundraising
--hours and hours of A2 Project mailings: printing, labeling, stuffing, sealing and stamping (there was always good conversation, plus bagels or pizza)
--moving lots of furniture around
--helping run a garage sale to get rid of furniture
--bringing concrete blocks from the demolished kitchen in the basement up the stairs to the dumpster (i earned the nickname "one million bobcats" during this activity, as well as some tumor-sized bruises on my forearms)
--sweeping and/or shop-vac-ing
--shoveling dirt for a staff-built retaining wall that now supports the stairs up to the main entry
--lugging more debris around
--giving tours
--attending wretchedly painful planning commission meetings
--praying

It is gonna be AWESOME to finally be in the new building, worshiping with 900 other people, most of whom I don't know, because they showed up to New Life and willingly stuffed themselves into the MLB, while we waited for a bigger auditorium.

The last week has been a good one. I'm learning more and more how to do life with my schedule, my responsibilities, my personality, and my capacity for handling stress. After December, which was a tough, burned-out month for me, I'm realizing that I need to slow down. My tendency is to try to shove my way through negative emotions, bull-dozing the pressure I feel with truth about my identity, instead of taking the time to understand the emotional stress I'm under. I read a great book about burn-out, and it helped me see how small things contribute to emotional exhaustion, especially for those of us who have a lower capacity for handling stressful situations. So SLOW DOWN is one of my mantras for 2007.

The other mantra is: cross that bridge when you come to it! I say this to myself so many times a day, it's crazy. The bottom line is clearly a true dependence on God that I've never experienced before this month. It's a "let tomorrow worry about itself" perspective. I'm not sure if this is biblical, but could it be true that God gives us the measure of faith we need just when we need it? Instead of wondering and worrying about if I'll have the faith to tackle an evangelism opportunity that's four days away, I'm learning to pray about it and then just leave it in the future. I may not have the faith for it now, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Instead of depending on my own ability to maintain an eternal perspective and believe truth about evangelism, I'm learning to let go and live life as it comes. Kevin keeps asking me, "What's your next bridge?" There couldn't be a better question for me right now. Sometimes it's just getting out of bed. Other times it's a bigger deal, but I'm seeing how it's possible for all aspects of life to be about depending on God.

I'm excited about this semester because of the deliberate slowing down that's happening and the time I get to hang out on lovely bridges. Life looks different. There's a lot ahead--another semester with a completely different schedule, a spring break trip, all sorts of stuff. But for the first time in a long time, I feel chilled out.

There are a few things that need tackling soon. I'm still having health problems, like a big fat migraine that kept me in bed until 3:30PM yesterday. I'm thinking more and more that it's a food allergy (maybe shellfish? I made myself a coconut curry seafood soup the other day). But I also need to get bloodwork done, to see if I have deficiencies or something. We'll see.

potential new year's resolutions

2007-01-02T22:23:00.000-08:00

Key word: "potential"

This'll probably start once I'm back home in Ann Arbor and life is normal again.

I gotta start feeling better. Therefore...

1) no more high fructose corn syrup!
2) take my (fish oil, B-12, chasteberry extract) supplements!
3) start taking advantage of the pilates classes at the Washtenaw Rec Center, within walking distance from my house and only $30 for ten classes!

I'll let you know how it goes.

christmas break

2006-12-30T23:36:00.000-08:00

I’m finally adding an entry to this blog, which I so ambitiously began by telling everyone I’d write every week. Laughable, I must say.

Anyway, here’s another go. I’m in Colorado now and will manage to be here a whole week, which is much longer than I would have thought this time seven days ago. The original plan was to fly out on December 20, for pre, mid, and post-Christmas chilled-out-ness in good old Monument. Then yesterday we were supposed to leave for a road trip to LA for New Years, via Durango and the Grand Canyon (which I’ve never seen). Both plans were cruelly foiled by back-to-back blizzards of “Monumental” proportions (we like to call the Crowley house the epicenter of said storms—it seems as if the clouds prefer to hover over us for days on end).

You can imagine my angst when I discovered that my flight home from Michigan was cancelled and could only be rescheduled for Christmas Eve. With the road trip plans looming, that would give me a total of three days at my lovely Christmasy, mountainous house. I kept thinking about how Christmas would be over before it had even officially begun!

I lugged my snowboard along with me on the plane on Christmas Eve, praying I’d get to use it in Durango for a day. By the time the day after Christmas rolled around, it was clear there was another storm on the way, and everybody seemed pretty content with flying to California, instead of driving. We took an emergency trip up to Winter Park, to get our snowboards some use, and proceeded to sit in traffic for way too long. Not to mention, I had some of the worst altitude sickness I’ve had that day, so it was not quite what I’d hoped.

Nonetheless, I felt a lot of the tension drain right out of me the minute I knew I’d get to rest at home for awhile before New Years. It’s been really quiet around here, thanks to Blizzard 2006 Part II (the most eventful thing that happened was a UPS truck getting stuck in our driveway), and I’ve done some snowshoeing, some cooking, and some watching of good movies. But I’ve also had a chance to realize that my holiday priorities and perspectives have changed drastically as a result of this very strange week and a half. I’m starting to think that God used the minor catastrophe of being stranded in Ann Arbor to help me finally enjoy the holidays for once. I’ve had some good Christmases in my day, but for the most part, as is the case with most much loved aspects of life, I’m always anxious about making sure to enjoy this while it lasts. There is always this panicky urgency to have the perfect Christmas ever. What the heck IS that? It must be common enough, since they’ve made a bunch of movies about that feeling. Anyway, this is so me. In my frenzied desire to enjoy life, I completely miss the bus and end up mourning my lost opportunities to enjoy life. That angst that I felt about missing Christmas altogether? I’m looking at that now thinking that I’m glad everything worked out the way it did. I’m that much more grateful to be here at all, and I’m that much more open to seeing the blessings that are mine.

For one thing, I got to spend four days of my Christmas vacation with Kevin, which was definitely an unexpected and awesome blessing. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye in the first place. Now I'm missing him terribly.

So this has been a really good holiday, if only because it was hard to come by. I’ve gotten lots of unexpected rest and a chance to recoup from a rather difficult December.

Jenni asked about our most treasured gifts this week:

1) chef’s knife and paring knife by Wusthof from Kevin (I’d been wanting new knives but never said a word about it) and a postcard of a little girl hanging her head over the end of a dock
2) wooden salad bowl, perfect for salads for two, from my Dad
3) Little Miss Sunshine from Evan
4) one of those heatable/chillable body wraps with eucalyptus and mint from my Mom, for relief of stress and other, errr, discomfort
5) rest, much needed but rarely truly gotten, from Jesus. Thank you.

inaugural blog

2006-12-30T12:12:00.000-08:00

In the name of second (or third or fourth) chances, I'm sticking with blogger despite its being completely IMPOSSIBLE! I don't know why it's been such a nightmare for me to even log in. Nevertheless, this blog was one I created six months ago but could never find again, which suddenly popped up when I was trying to find my new blog! grrr. Anyway, this entry was written on November 12, and i'm giving this whole blog thing another try:

My friend Linn writes her “dear ones” letters from Africa, maybe every other week. They are zesty, like orange peel. Like the Food Network. What I mean is: I just can’t get enough. Every time I get that special email from Linn, I just have to sit back and get cozy, even if that means pushing something else back in the schedule. I’ve been to her home in Africa, so maybe that’s why I can picture everything she describes. But really, she’s just got a way with words. She’s got a way with life. And, as is the case with the rest of the things she dedicates time to, her letters inspire me. She also has a blog.

Let it be known: I LOVE BLOGS! I think they are fabulous, and I use to have a blog all last year, but I was sheepish about it and kept it under wraps for the most part. Now I am unashamed. I am an avid reader of several blogs, and despite the fact that I am generally wretched at maintaining relationships that are not right under my nose, I feel like I know (at least a little of) what is going on in people’s lives via their entries. Not to mention that I DO love to write, and I have been noticing lately that there is a tug in my heart to return to that part of myself that creates. I haven’t been there in awhile.

Life is very very busy these days, almost to the point that I am becoming dissatisfied with the state of things. I would like to try to set aside time every week or so, maybe Saturday mornings, to just sit and reflect on what has gone on, really take it in, so that I don’t feel like my life is passing me by. I’ve noticed that one of my deepest desires is to live life with that zest, taking time to recognize that it’s happening.

Some things you should know about my life right now, since I’ll probably be writing about them:

1) I have a boyfriend of 3-ish months named Kevin. What I know for now is that being with him is just plain right.

2) The primary focus of my work is on North Campus at the University of Michigan. I lead a “New Life Team” with a guy named Chris, and it’s essentially a little church based on geography inside of the larger 900-person congregation called New Life Church. Many people wonder, either to themselves or aloud, what I do all day. Perhaps this blog will shed some light.

3) I currently live in the coziest, loveliest apartment ever, complete with chili pepper lights hanging in the enormous kitchen, cushy carpet, a giant whiteboard for leaving messages, and a little walled-in patio with trees overhanging (October was so nice—red leaves, two pots of mums, yellow and burgundy, given to me as [perfect!] gifts, a lounge chair and side table, and a carved white pumpkin). My roommate’s name is Jen, and we share our apartment with two other girls named Shawn and Natalie, all of us U of M grads and working full-time. The best part is that our complex backs up to Trader Joe’s. Sometimes I need bananas or something, so I take a quick walk over and come back with some…plus avocados. Always avocados.

4) I’ve been asking God, rather timidly, for a softer heart. For some reason, I have this desire to cry more, perhaps because that will help me know that I am capable of real compassion. Not that crying equals compassion. But there is a lot of suffering and a lot of beauty in the world, and sometimes they affect me like a country I’ve never cared about, Luxembourg, say--that is, they affect me hardly at all.

As I was writing this, I wondered if I were just trying to make myself feel like I have an interesting life. The truth of the matter is that I do indeed have an interesting life, but I don’t appreciate it enough. I think that taking the time to write about it will bear witness to the fact that I am blessed.