So, it's December, and I choose hope...{mish-mash and encouraging links}

Where has the year gone? I sit surrounded by boxes of decorations and ornaments with idea and to-do lists nearly writing themselves in frantic fashion. 'Tis the season! I use this phrase so much (all year round) that my kids make fun of me.

Can I be honest? I feel like I cannot escape negativity and pessimism pressing in on many sides, from within and without. So, I'll share a few links~there is good stuff happening in the world around us. CNN, MSNBC, and media in general have skewed reality, they do not hold the patent rights on truth, they are not concerned with infusing people with hope or joy or kindness or peace, they are concerned with ratings. The media, the people around us should not dictate our ability to hope.

Take a moment to watch this short video and read the article about ministry in "The Forgotten Southern City" of Fairfield, Alabama. 

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I saw an interview with the man who created the non-profit "My Block, My Hood, My City"~check out his work and mission in Chicago here. 

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A shout-out to Toyota for a commercial speaking to what our country so desperately needs. Let's Go Compassion.

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25 days to quiet the crazy of Christmas. Enough said.

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I liked this post that documents the simple and the beautiful from the author's autumn, from food to books to every day life. I walk through this pseudo-scrapbooking-journal process on occasion and it's good for my heart.

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LOVE this quote from Pollyanna:

"The influence of a beautiful, helpful, hopeful character is contagious, and may revolutionize a whole town . . . People radiate what is in their minds and in their hearts. If a man feels kindly and obliging, his neighbors will feel that way, too, before long. But if he scolds and scowls and criticizes—his neighbors will return scowl for scowl, and add interest!”

(For an encouraging family movie, I recommend this version of Pollyanna.)

This season and coming year, I choose hope. I choose joy. I choose to find beauty. I choose kindness, patience, gentleness, and self-control. I choose Jesus.

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{Coming soon: This years "wills and will nots" for December AND Christmas book picks. 'Tis the season!}

300 days of beauty, day 47 [Easter]

 

He is risen!

300 days of beauty, day 37 [the holidays]

We've had a rough couple of weeks. We said goodbye to someone very beloved, especially by our kids. A teacher and friend and lovely lovely woman who deeply impacted their lives over the last five years went home to be with the Lord. We are heartbroken. I hate so much how this feels. I know how this journey goes. It can neither be erased nor sped up. 

I have lost many people I have loved dearly. My kids were younger then, they could not grasp the grief. Now, they are older. Harder than dealing with my own sadness is walking alongside D, Cece, and Belle as they cope with the sickness and death of someone they love so much. We've had many tears and conversations, each one difficult, but good.

I feel worn. I long for heaven. I get so tired of goodbyes.

When I knew her last days on this earth were near, I grabbed The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis and read the last chapter. For whatever reason, I had never finished The Chonicles of Narnia, but while in Tennessee this last fall we listened to the Reader's Theatre version of all seven books. I don't know what I expected from The Last Battle, but it was different than I thought. I was sobbing at the end. Reading it again, this last chapter penned by C.S. Lewis comforted my hurting heart even amidst the tears I could not corral.

[spoiler alert: Many of the beloved Narnia characters stand before Aslan, wondering if they must return to their world]

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning."

The holidays. I love the wording, the feeling of hope and expectation. Some day.

I hate the loss we experience here. I'm angry. Sometimes it feels as if I can bear no more. But my term isn't over. And that's okay. Separation is temporary for those who hope in Christ. The longing and ache for those we've lost serves us well--to remind us that we are not created for this world. We live in the "Shadow-lands" and some day we will live out the "Great Story... in which every chapter is better than the one before."

"For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come."  

~Hebrews 13:14

the view as we traveled home from the celebration of life service

[The beautiful, soul encouraging artwork pictured at the top of this post was created by my lovely friend, Jenn, through her business Cobblestone Road Hand Lettering.]

300 days of beauty

The snow is gently falling outside my window, adding inches of fluffy powder on top of inches of hard-packed snow and ice that will most likely not melt for months. In spite of the likelihood of biting it later when I go outside, it is quite beautiful. 

I'm kicking it old-school today. Cleaning my room while listening to FM radio. The station is playing "classic hits" which make me feel happy and nostalgic and old all at the same time. 

(Funny story: In Tennessee this fall, we were settling in to our townhouse. D and Cece came out of their rooms excitedly talking about their clocks that "you can turn the dial and find all sorts of music that will just play!" Yes, it was just a clock radio. And yes, we do listen to the radio in the car, but even that scans, no dial. In their techie world of CDs, mp3s, and Amazon Prime, this was new and exciting. They enjoyed synchronizing their stations. I was amused and also marveled at how they make me feel old by not even trying. It's just going to get worse...) 

Anyway...

This week was challenging. At times, my eyes that see beauty at every turn can also be so blurred by tears, that the world seems a tragic and hopeless place. Life seems more like a ticking time-bomb than brimming with unlimited joy and possibility. I start to focus horizontally on everything around me, scroll through facebook feeds, click on one too many news stories, and I'm floundering.

So I'm aiming vertical. Looking up to my Lord who sees all. My God who sees every tear I've cried and is near. I want to keep engaging with Him, keep talking, let him be the confidante that I hold most dear.

I feel very strongly that beauty can be found in each day. For me I'm striving to post 300 days of beauty. Pictures I've snapped that are beauty in my life.

Why 300? I'm realistic. I never do all that I want to do and that gives me 66 days (Leap Year!) of flexibility.

Day 1: We often went this park on the river in Knoxville. It is a special place for all of us and I took many many pictures. I love this picture. D could spend hours catching falling leaves from the monstrous Tennessee trees. It was a delightful game for him and I loved to watch him. He may be nearing 13, but simple pleasures still delight.

Looking toward beauty, looking back with thankfulness

New Year's Eve marks an important anniversary for me. For my heart it represents a line in the sand. I stepped forward into the year 2004 feeling the gift of time that had been given to me.  I've gathered two blog posts that I wrote on New Year's Eve 2008 and 2013, five and ten years past my New Year's Eve of 2003.

December 31, 2008
 
Five years ago I was 25 with a three-month-old son and I was told that the I mole I had removed was melanoma. It changed my life forever. Today, New Year's Eve, is the five year anniversary of when I had my surgery--a sentinel node biopsy plus removing the area around the mole to see if the melanoma had spread. Every year since then, I start each year with profound thankfulness. Five years feels even better. 

Medically speaking, two years and five years are milestones for cancer survivors. I am thankful to pass those markers, but I also know that God is the ultimate holder of my statistics, each of my days here on earth have been numbered long before I was born.

I often ponder how different my life is now because of my cancer experience. When I had my five-year check-up two weeks ago, the doctor left the room, and I just started crying. I left the building, got in my car, and started bawling. Tears of joy. The happiest tears I had cried in a very long time. So thankful to be given another day, another year.

What have I cried out to God the most in the last five years since God preserved my life? To be able to stay home and raise my kids. To raise kids who love the Lord. At that time I only had one son. My family talked about what he would be like next Christmas at one-year-old, and I smiled outwardly, but inwardly wondered if I would be around next Christmas. 

Now, we have three amazing children. After our son, we adopted two beautiful daughters--every day they amaze me. I have been given such a great privilege to stay home with them, teach them, play with them, love them, learn from them, and be amazed at what God is doing in our family.

God allowed me to see what really mattered--I think my contentment in being a stay-at-home mom is largely because I faced the possibility of not being around at all. My life is rich. This New Year's Eve, I'm home celebrating with a cheese fondue dinner, no-bake cookies, snuggling with our three-month-old, smiling daughter, chatting with my son, listening to giggles from our three-year-old daughter, and watching a movie with my wonderful husband. This is the only place I'd want to be.

There is so much I could say about this, but I'll end with the first verse I read after finding out that I had melanoma: "Don't be afraid," he said, "for you are deeply loved by God. Be at peace; take heart and be strong!" Daniel 10:19 NLT

December 31, 2013

When my son was a baby and I would take him to the grocery store with me, gray-haired patrons would OFTEN stop me to ooh and awe over him, and then (without fail) remind me to cherish these years because they end in a flash. So very true. I hope I have honored their sage advice spoken from their life experience.

On this day, 10 years ago, I was scared to death. Early in the morning, leaving my 3-month-old son with my parents, my husband and I headed to the hospital for my surgery. Several weeks before, I had been informed that a mole that had been removed was melanoma. Since I had been pregnant when it developed, they didn't know how fast it had spread. The surgeon was removing a large chunk of area around where the mole had been as well as removing lymph nodes to check if the cancer had spread from its original site. I've journaled, blogged, and reflected about this time in my life each New Year's Eve for the last 10 years. 

Many events change a life, but this one was a doozy. And really, I wouldn't change it. I saw God's hand and felt His presence through it. It has directed the course I have taken as a wife and mom probably more than any other factor. That's not to say that I didn't battle tremendously with the fear, hurt, and anger at facing this at 25 years of age, but I see how He's used it in my life. He was and is faithful.

So today, I am thankful. I have been gifted TIME. Time to be a wife and a mom, time to be a sister, daughter, granddaughter, cousin, niece, aunt, and a friend. I don't feel like I always use my time the best, I feel unworthy and inadequate often, but always there is a thankfulness for being able to be here. The journey is not easy, but worth it. Ten years later I can say that I have continued to engage with the Lord. I may cry, question, yell, fear, doubt, and hurt at life sometimes, but I walk with Him. Not because I'm so great, but because He is. My heart's desire is to continue with Him--walking, running, leaping, limping, skipping, crawling, piggy-backing, or being cradled...whatever it takes.

The old hymn "In Christ Alone" has popped into my head. I love the whole song, but will highlight the beginning and the end...

"In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

...From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand"

wet, bedraggled, and laughing on the Grayson Highlands in Virginia

December 31, 2015

Today is a spectacularly normal day. Bright blue skies and frigid air and temps. I will have three to four cups of coffee. I will go for a run. I will probably clean my house, I will listen to my kids chatter and play and argue and sing (Belle is currently singing a Latin Christmas song while playing by the Christmas tree), I will soak it up because it is all so beautiful. We will spend time with friends tonight and then return home to ring in the New Year. My husband will not tell me to go to bed because it is the one night a year I am entitled to stay up as late as I want. Can you tell we disagree on this sometimes?? He loves me anyway. 

My theme for the year has seemed to center around the "beautiful mess" that is life. There is nothing pristine about the days I walk in, but I'll take them, every single one of them. 

I believe to the core of who I am that joy and beauty can be found wherever you find yourself this New Year's Eve. That does not mean life is perfect, that does not mean that hardship and tragedy can or should be glossed over in a fake sort of happiness that is neither genuine nor realistic. It's just that God is good, He is active and moving, He has purpose, gives beauty and joy, and radiates love and grace into this shambled world. He has never wasted anything that I've walked through, He has been faithful and patient and loving and present through more yuck than I can say. To journey through this life with my Lord is worth it and there is no other way to do it.

May you all have a, joy-filled, beauty-infused New Year's Eve and start to the New Year!

 ...and a few shots from our Isle of Palms beach weekend...it's always a good day on the beach

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My husband and two friends have an annual New Year's Eve snowshoeing expedition that they take each year. I call it the Arctic Expedition. They had a blast this year and as usual it was very cold and very windy. Nothing has quite compared to 2013, so I pulled the blog post from that expedition below, just for fun.

Arctic Expedition, December 31, 2013

Now onto the snowshoeing excursion which was more like an Antarctic expedition simulator. 

Here's the estimated data: 

• a hike to Lake of Glass which sits at timberline (between 11,000 and 12,000 feet above sea level)

• 8 miles round trip
• pelting snow

• 13 degrees with negative 8 windchill

• 50-100 mph gusts of wind

• some gusts being more constant than gusty

With these three guys that equals FUN. More or less anyway. Shaun said at one point he physically couldn't move his leg forward because of the wind's force. Mark lost a glove that was whipped off his person to unknown parts. With the wind at their back, they could practically fly :-). Jeff shot some video because the pictures couldn't quite capture the intensity. None of them had ever experienced such wind and they would be what you would call "outdoorsy" guys. Anyway, they had a blast, with much shared laughter and a growler of Coop's beer to drink at the top. It was epic (the wives will laugh at the stories, while shaking our heads in consternation).

After surviving Antarctica, the guys drove through the flood-ravaged valley and town of Glen Haven. The roads have been rebuilt, but many of these new roads are temporarily dirt. The dirt roads show where the floods completely demolished the previously paved highway. The devastation is unbelievable. 

As they rounded a curve, the tires hit ice sending the car into a slow spin. The momentum of the spin seemed too great to even think they would stop before the front tire dropped over the edge, sending them rolling into the river below. In the moment they each were rapidly calculating how they were going to get out of the car once they rolled. But then the car stopped...less than a foot from hitting the edge. Like an angel stuck a wedge under the tire, no joke. 

Praise the Lord for His protection!

to be encouraged

I awoke to a rainy, drizzled and blustery day. I was up until 2:30 a.m. finishing a book. My son caught me. Guilty. He is never up in the middle of the night, but due to the joys of orthodontia, he needed some ibuprofen. He also tattled on me to my husband who "tsk-tsked" me with a roll of his eyes and shake of his head (and I'm sure a smile too). 

I like the rain, but being spoiled by so many sunny days, it affects my mood quickly. I felt dreary of soul this morning. Add this to the fact that taking less than a minute on my phone or laptop and I've already sucked in at least a dozen negative and often heart-wrenching stories from around the world.


Tragedy deeply affects me. For the last several months, I've taken a news "sabbatical." It has helped me live with more hope and optimism. That being said, it's virtually impossible to live in a bubble. I've enjoyed receiving theSkimm in my inbox each morning--a summary of top world stories with some sarcasm and dry humor to boot. It's enough to be connected yet not inundated. I also look for encouragement. I look for the touching, some humor, the inspiring, the interesting...here's my sampling:

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I read this story years ago in Franklin Graham's book Living Beyond the Limits:Life in Sync with God. The story etched itself permanently in my mind. I've thought of it often over the years and especially with the recent airplane tragedies. It recently resurfaced in my Facebook news feed. Powerful. What would I do if I were on an airplane I knew was destined to crash?

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Superior Women: And the Men Who Can’t Out-Give Them

Doug Wilson's thoughts.

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I LOVE this story. I heard it on the radio during this last Christmas season. I can't resist a love story.

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I am well-versed in English royalty. My mom loved it, I grew up "knowing" the royal family, watching the royal wedding of Diana and Charles, looking at pictures of Diana's wedding dress in magazines, and learning the history. I know exactly how succession works. I traveled to London as a high school graduation present. My brother and I went again and were in London when the Queen Mum celebrated her 100th birthday. I may or may not be an Anglophile. I found this to be a very interesting read.

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Lastly, read about veterans who make sure students in rough Chicago neighborhoods get to and from school safely. Loved this.

The world has much good and beauty. Jesus still reigns. He will continue to reign.

Happy weekend!

look to the acorn, hope in death

 “When the will of God crosses the will of man, somebody has to die.” Addison Leitch

Death is not always physical death. Sacrifice and self-denial comes in many forms. Letting go of dreams, waiting on dreams, accepting the circumstances and path set before you, entrusting all that you are, all that you have, and all that you hope to the hands of the Lord.



I like acorns. I always have. My kids love them too. They collect them as if they were seashells on a beach, each one marvelous and unique and special. 

As a college student I was greatly influenced by Elisabeth Elliot's book Passion and Purity. I devoured every book she wrote and have never regretted one minute spent. I loved her thoughts on the acorn:

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  It is a marvelous little thing, a perfect shape, perfectly designated for its purpose, perfectly functional. Think of the grand glory of an oak tree. His intention for us is “… the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.” Many deaths must go into our reaching that measure, many letting-goes. When you look at the oak tree, you don’t feel that the “loss” of the acorn is a very great loss. The more you perceive God’s purpose in your life, the less terrible will the losses seem. The lesson of the seed is not fully learned until there is relinquishment. There is no way around it. The seed does not “know” what will happen. It only knows what is happening —the falling, the darkness, the dying.

God’s ultimate plan is as far beyond our imaginings as the oak tree is from the acorn’s imaginings. The acorn does what it is was made to do, without pestering its Maker with questions about when and how and why. We who have been given an intelligence and a will and a whole range of wants that can be set against the divine Pattern for Good are asked to believe Him. We are given the chance to trust Him when He says to us, “…If any man will let himself be lost for my sake, he will find his true self.”

When will we find it? The answer is, Trust Me.

How will we find it? The answer again is, Trust Me.

Why must I let myself be lost? we persist. The answer is, Look at the acorn and trust Me.

-Passion and Purity, Elisabeth Elliot

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Because I love Him will I choose to lay down everything? Do I accept "No" from the Lord? Do I accept his "Yes?"

Look to the acorn. In our finite mind, we can't imagine any sacrifice creating the grandeur of an oak tree. We lose hope. We lose patience. 

I'm so thankful God is who He says He is. And when I sputter and doubt He is there. He knows we cannot see the hope in the acorn, but He knows what He is doing. Something so much more elaborate and majestic and awe-inspiring that I can grasp.

We don't have to get it, but we can look to the acorn.

Happy Good Friday!

those March days, the first samplings of spring

"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade." ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Spring where I live sometimes bears a striking resemblance to winter. In spite of knowing that heavy, wet snow will come, the clustered buds appear on our trees, new green peeks out from the ground, fledgling leaves prepare to welcome the cherry blossoms. The sun shines bright, the air is fresh and cool, it's like breathing hope into my lungs when I step outside. Cabin fever flees our home. I look at the world with visions of daffodils and tulips dancing in my head, remembering my excitement when I saw these flowers bloom in my mom's garden as a child.

Spring is not predictable, but that's okay. The unpredictability makes it beautiful. No matter what assails it, we know the fruit of spring. Even a little battering cannot quench its bloom.

Crocus blooming at the botanical gardens...

"In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours."

~Mark Twain

“The wilderness and the desert will be glad,
And the [land] will rejoice and blossom;
Like the crocus

It will blossom profusely
And rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy...

They will see the glory of the LORD,

The majesty of our God.

Encourage the exhausted, and strengthen the feeble.

Say to those with anxious heart,
'Take courage, fear not...'”

Isaiah 35:1-4

...Hope