1000 gifts

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)

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)

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.

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

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.

inaugural blog

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.