settling into the season

So I have resolved that it is ok that I am not blogging consistently right now, in fact I have put my writing in general on hold for a little snippet of time. I can't say it is because I have been too busy, more like the opposite that I am simply settling into the season of fall and the rhythm of long walks after work and turning in earlier, mimicking the shorter days. I know it will come back but right now I am just enjoying the quiet evenings without the clicking of the keyboard and savoring the last of the warm nights. However, I should learn to add some pics here and there if I am not blogging regularly. hmm. I will have to work on that.

I have been busy continuing to hole myself up with books and more books, managing to read a 300-400 page book every 10 days or so since we got home from vacation. I think this is a phase but it makes me feel better that I am doing something somewhat productive when I am ignoring chores around the house. I picked up "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett tonight because it was on the library express shelf and I have been looking for it and finding it only on wait lists for month.

I also am finding myself back in the kitchen at times, which always seems to happen this time of year. Quite possibly because comfort food tastes much better when I know I don't have to be in my bathing suit anytime soon. Tonight I made a throw back meal, channeling my childhood and one of my all time favorite recipes that my Mom made for us, spinach quiche.

It's easy and gooey and oh so good. As follows:
-bake a store bought pie crust for 20 minutes until it gets brown
-mix 6 eggs, a little milk, salt, a few drops of Worcestershire sauce (secret key)
-layer a package of defrosted & drained chopped spinach with 6 or 7 slices of swiss cheese and pour egg mix over the top.
-Bake at 350 for 40 minutes or until it sets & the top is brown

*here is the ticket- let it sit for 10 minutes or so and it will become a layered pie of cheesy goodness (including a little veggie serving or two for the day with the spinach in there).

I can happily say that Ryan LOVED it as well and between dinner tonight and our lunches tomorrow, we will have that whole pie finished off. Whoops. I may have just found a new staple in our house.

As far as Ryan goes, his fall has picked up which also may be contributing to my intense homebody tendencies, trying to balance out this full season for him and he is weeks away from finishing his degree. Which is amazing and so exciting to me since we first began this new season of student life back in the summer of 2009. I'm so proud of him, how hard he works to do good in his classes, be available to others and still have so much energy left to love me. I can't say I would be able to walk that road as well as he has and bless God that he is loving what he is learning in everyday life. He got to teach last night at our church and is blogging about it here.

so for now, that's all. a little update on my quiet corner of the world. And so you aren't complete worried about me becoming a house dweller, locking myself away for weeks and living on the pages of my books; I have also been to a hockey game, a handful of coffee dates, a new Mediterranean restaurant in Grand Rapids with friends, two showers and lots of youth group events in the past 3 weeks. Just choosing to reflect on the low key moments that I am loving.

the joy of a skyline

I started my morning early today. And those who know me know that is a good thing. But on these rainy and dark mornings, even I, O’lover of morning have to admit that it is stinkin’ hard to get myself rolling. As I drove the 20 minutes to meet a friend for breakfast on the other side of town, I was in the morning zone, concentrated on getting there and anticipating caffeine.

We enjoyed our time together and had a good opportunity to connect, which I am finding in relationships is worth getting up early for, or squeezing in a 30 minute walk, because people are BUSY. Another topic for another day. To my point though; as I drove towards work on the highway, the way I used to take into work when I was living at home in those brief months between college and marriage, I remembered what I loved about that commute. If you hit it just right, there is a beautiful dawning taking place as the sun begins to rise and even the hills and industrial skyline of little old Zeeland sparkle.

I can’t describe why it was so beautiful to me this morning but it felt like a little shot of joy plugged into the day, even before 8 a.m. I arrived at work, humored by God and the way that He surprises me with his beauty in our lives, if we only look for it. So today, even in the skyline there was joy to be had.

both/and

As much as I hesitate to write about things that are negative, I was recently reminded that life is not meant to be lived without the support of friends. That said, I need to process something that happened this week. I haven't talked about it or thought about it much since it happened, but in that moment it felt like an eternity, dragging on and pulling me along with it.

Over the past 6 months or so, I have been really breaking free of my addiction to running and consuming thoughts about controlling what I eat or don't eat, how much I exercise, etc. And let me just say that giving something up like that at first, feels like a free fall, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, like you don't know if you will be able to catch yourself. But I have and I am gaining alot of steadiness in that area of my life, with the help of God and prayer and confession. And community. I am gradually learning in my life that my community needs to be part of my confession and struggle, not just my joy and others prayer requests, but mine as well.

All of that said, this week I had an intense "both/and" experience. Let me unpack that a little. I had a girl who is a stylist at a "chic-y" salon in Grand Rapids who was ordering some Uppercase Living and I drove out there to meet up with her between clients. From the moment I entered the spa she works at, I felt an overwhelming struggle going on inside of me. I know alot of wonderful girls who are stylists who are warm and open, but let me tell you, none of the girls in this salon were any of that. I felt an enormous lump of jealousy building in my chest over their perfectly matched designer outfits complete with fashionable heels, the newest accessories, all hairs in place, makeup perfectly shaded. And I felt like as I sat in the waiting room and waited and waited, they were unpacking me as well.

And I plain felt like I didn't measure up. I felt both inferior and superior at the same time to them (the "both/and" complex). I felt inferior by everything I just wrote but I felt a sense of superiority, knowing that I am not living my life based on my merits of beauty. Please friends, don't hear me saying that I need an ego boost or kind affirmation. I just need to be real about the struggle that goes on between women. My friend Brandi & I were talking just a few days before this incident and we decided that women operate on the point's system:

"My hair is cuter than hers" 1 point for me
"Her jeans are smaller than mine" 2 points for her
"My home is decorated better than hers" 1 point for me

You get the picture. And in those moments, it made me really sad that I was feeling myself playing that game. I feel better already, putting it out there and am thankful for each of you women in my life who don't keep track of points, but affirm Godliness and grace, knowing that those things truly are beautiful.

beauty through tragedy

I heard part of this family's story yesterday on the radio and was so touched by their testimony of faith through tragedy that I had to share it with you. Jake and Rebecca Mutz were a young married couple whose daughter was born with unexpected complications and after 7 days in their arms, went to be with Jesus.
I contemplated posting this because I want to protect the minds and the hearts of my dear friends who are young moms and moms-to-be. I don't know how it will hit your heart and my prayer is that if you do feel led to listen to it, that what you sense through their story is not the fear and loss they experienced but their joy in His goodness in their lives.

It is a 5 part interview that you can listen to here as well as get more information about the book that this family has authored. They read the introduction to the book and it was so beautiful that I wanted to share those words.

When I hear Handel, Beethoven, or Bach, I think how profoundly moving music can be. I feel my soul lifted, called to something higher, something nobler, something more perfect than this fallen world has to offer. It invades my mundane, ordinary existence and as I listen I feel transported—as if the music has escaped from another realm.
A grand and glorious symphony has been written, and for seven dark but beautiful days I heard the strains of its melody. The musical score came from Heaven with the debut of a tiny, helpless baby. Her song was complex, yet perfectly written.
Frail as she was, this little one took center stage and, without uttering a sound, stirred the passions of the thousands who listened.
Elegant music has a lingering effect. And so did the hymn of this tiny life. She touched me and I am left with the divinely beautiful memory, changed forever by having heard a few measures of His symphony in her brief but mighty life.
Be still and listen. May you, too, feel the wonder of this great mystery, that one so small could lead so many to hear the Everlasting Song.
As taken from the book "A symphony in the dark".

Since losing Kaden, my heart and mind have found a more comfortable place in grief than I ever knew possible. I know that I like to avoid pain and feeling uncomfortable, useless to fix anything, and broken myself. But I also know, and was reminded after listening to this story that Psalm 30:11 was never more true.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.

an ecclesiastical day

this song has been playing its way through my head tonight.

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

A time to build up,a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

this morning's memorial for Kaden was beautiful and full and worshipful. You don't quite know how to emotionally prepare for a day like this but even amongst the grief, there continued to be hope and celebration with the worship chosen and words shared, including this poem that my husband wrote.

I laughed with friends today, held hands with Ryan, cried and held my sister-in-law tight, went on a drive tonight with Ryan (and Toby), went to a baby shower for a dear friend whose little one we will meet in 4 short weeks and smiled as I thought about the newborn baby girl that will be one week old tomorrow whose fingers and toes and little nose were absolutely perfect when we met her last Sunday. Ecclesiastes 3. a time for everything under heaven.

i also picked myself more flowers.

giving myself flowers.

I love the flowers blooming in my yard that I may or may not have pulled last year thinking they were weeds. Or maybe they didn't even pop up last May, I am not sure. All I know is that right now in this time of fullness and joy and tears, they seem like a gift to me that I didn't ask for or even deserve. But there they are, blooming fully around me in yellows, reds, purples, oranges, pinks. just for me and my kitchen, and my desk at work, and my heart. And I pick them, and they come back, ready to give me more beauty and grace.

They feel like their own little miracle which I need right now. I remember devouring Sabrina Ward Harrison's first book and work of art, "Spilling Open". and then "Brave on the Rocks" and I know there are more but those are the 2 that I snuck away on my lunch breaks from Marshall Fields during a college summer to read.

There was just something about the way that she let herself spill out her words with colors and art like they were no lines between them. And for her there weren't. I don't know philosophically or worldview wise if we are in sync but I resonated then and still now with her expression and how she uses that to experience life. So today it is the tulips and conversations with friends that spill open in front of me. and whether or not I place them in a vase, they bring me beauty.