A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words - nobody puts baby in the corner



quirky(?)

 

I'm a mechanical pencil, Magic eraser, backspace key kinda gal. I enjoy a clean slate, the opportunity to try again, and the ability to edit.  Those writing exercises, where one types freely for five minutes, unedited, stream of thought...they're not for me.  I mull, ponder, contemplate.  I'm a (take a long) look before you leap, girl.  I like words to swirl around in my head a bit before committing them to a page.  I like the principal of thinking before speaking, though confess my children (and husband) are not always the recipient of such a disciplined tongue.  I tweak decorative items all around our home, shifting furniture an inch here, repositioning a vase there.  I cannot pass a crooked picture frame without straightening it.  If there is a spot on the counter, you'd better believe I'm going to grab a Clorox wipe (conveniently located under every sink in the house) and wipe it. I appreciate a pretty package, a well constructed bow, an added flourish.   I like the final product.  I'm intrigued with messy, but will choose neat (almost) every time. 

 

 I think often when I consider these tendencies, I spin them as negative or at best quirky.  However, lately, I cannot escape truths such as, I am made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27), am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139: 13-14), and that I have been equipped with different kinds of gifts (1 Corinthians 12:4). 

 

I'm inspired by those that have the ability to be both articulate and passionate on the fly.  I know a few of those gems personally, and have the privilege of sharing life with one very unedited, dynamic soul.  More than ever before, I'm learning to appreciate and value the beauty and diversity that is so thoughtfully displayed in creation.  It is not by chance, but by design.  And, praise the sweet name of Jesus we are not all the same.

Today, I'm thankful for the white screen of possibility that exists {here} and the blinking cursor that patiently awaits my next train of thought.  I'm thankful for little ones that inspire me to self-examine, dig deep and ponder the ways I'm fearfully and wonderfully made, in an effort to see them (and the world around me) more thoughtfully.  I'm diggin' words expressed around the Web, BIG hearts writing openly and honestly.  I'm smitten with His creativity, and overwhelmed by His love for me.  I'm embracing wet counters and floors as the little man plays in the sink, towel ready to go.  And, I'm compelled to dance it out with the little lady, as she queues up another rockin' tune.

 



This Week

The importance of play.

 

How to be present in the midst of suffering.
 

 

 Amusing and rich in vocabulary, we read and reread.

 

Perhaps, my new favorite lip balm.

The melody I simply cannot shake.

 

 

The little man proudly displayed his many moves, completing his first gymnastics class.

 

Exercising gratitude.

 

For quiet afternoons and just before bed. (If only I could keep my eyes from shutting...)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 



On gifts, art and the Body

"Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly."

Romans 12:6a

 

 

I see Him at work, as we gather each week, a Body of believers, united in purpose, bonded in love, a small community with big hearts, ready for Kingdom work.  We have landed here, in an effort to tap into that which makes us unique - by design, by purpose.  We are a beautiful blend of gifts, sitting in one room, open to the possibility of exposure, as we dig in, discover, affirm and encourage one another. And, I sit there, always humbled, often amused.  His handiwork on display, His plans unfolding, using ordinary people do His good work.  It is quite liberating, to know that I am but a strand, in this beautiful tapestry.  I am not called to be all things, but to use the gifts I have been given in such a way as to bring glory and honor to my Maker, and serve His people. 

 

The gospel is life.  The gospel is about the Creator God, who is an artist, who is trying to communicate.  And his art is the church.  We are the artwork created in Christ Jesus to do good works. If we don't realize that fully, then the gospel itself is truncated; and art itself suffers. - Makoto Fujimura

 

(Easy) Peanut Butter Pie

My sister-in-law assured me that eating 1 1/2 slices of this particular pie (at one sitting) was OK as the recipe calls for mostly fat-free ingredients.  I trust my sister-in-law.

 

Ingredients:

 

1 cup powdered sugar

1 cup natural-style, reduced fat creamy peanut butter (such as Smuckers)

(1) 8-ounce block 1/3 reduced fat cream cheese, softened

(1) 14-ounce can fat-free sweetened condensed milk

12 ounce frozen fat free whipped topping, thawed

(2) 6-ounce reduced fat graham cracker crust

 

Combine powdered sugar, peanut butter, and cream cheese in a large bowl; beat with a mixer at medium speed until smooth.  Add milk; beat until combined.  Fold in whipped topping.  Divide mixture evenly between crusts; chill 8 hours or until set (pies will have a soft, fluffy texture). 

This Week

 

We entertained; crowding table, sharing favorite comfort foods.

 

I splurged.

 

The littlest cut several new teeth, and still managed to smile.

 

 

 

She spoke volumes...again.

 

We listened (on repeat) and grooved.

 

We survived gastroenteritis. By God's grace, and a can of Lysol, I managed to empty buckets, change linens and hold back hair symptom free.

 

Homemaking became art, as her words inspired.

 

The little lady learned the value of slow and steady, practicing the skill of editing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Art Lesson

 

Art means believing that the God who created the world with words alone creates with words still, through us - whether it be on stage to thousands or in a corner with one.

 

Art is what happens when you dare to be who you really are.

 

When we live free, we are able to give freedom.  When we live loved, we are able to give love.  When we are secure, we are able to offer security.  God reveals himself through every artist, and the artist is you.

 

from A Million Little Ways

by Emily P. Freeman



To Be Noticed

"There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours."

- Jean-Paul Sartre

 

He had given clues, playfully planting the idea that something unexpected was to come.  "Think...bigger picture," he said, eyes mischievous.  It is one of his signature moves, his personal love language to me, carefully crafted over the many years we have been an "us," the perpetual taunting, "yanking of my chain" in such a way that lets me know I am his. 

 

I arrived home, the task of carpooling behind me.  His eyes revealed something special was about to unfold.  Casually, I was led into the office.  A row of perfectly coordinated packages lay waiting.  His gift...their gift to me.

 

There are those moments in life that leave you breathless, heart pounding and head spinning.  Year 34 began with such a moment, as he sat back watching our little ones present to me the fruits of his labor.  Months of planning, texting, emailing, done in secret, so that I would experience the thrill of surprise, the sincerity of being loved, and the intimacy of being known.  Each package a book, thoughtfully chosen by dear ones, inscribed with words of encouragement, reflection, well wishes and love.  My eyes welled, as I read words, pausing only to look into his face.  Around me the children pranced, recognizing the significance of the moment, identifying that my tears were happy ones (a very important distinction these days). 

 

In the year of {notice}, it was he who noticed me.  My deep appreciation for and love of friendship, the value I place on written words, my enthusiasm for literature, and the pleasure of adding new titles to our already overflowing bookshelves. 

 

In the moment, there were few words exchanged, only looks, followed by a long embrace.  His strong arms around me, holding me as my heart pounded, overwhelmed...in the best possible way.

 

 



It's not exactly a list

Today, I am 34.  And, the pulsing beat of Rhianna's "Diamonds" is pulsing through my mind, making me want to dance my way through this very frigid Wednesday in January, the day of my birth.  Undoubtedly, Rhianna's music is not for everyone, but some days her insanely rhythmic beats and haunting voice are exactly what our crew needs.   

Shine bright like a diamond
Shine bright like a diamond

Find light in the beautiful sea
I choose to be happy
You and I, you and I
We’re like diamonds in the sky


The first week of the New Year has brought with it colds that won't let up and obscene temperatures, keeping our pace slower than usual.  The children and I have been held up (willingly) for almost three full days, allowing plenty of time for reflection...and dance parties.  While the various tunes played on, favorites on repeat, I watched my little ones move with reckless abandonment, happy, their eyes shining bright, chests heaving.  And, I was moved. 

In a January 2011 blog post, Emily Freeman wrote the following, "We tend to dream big but live small.  January is for dreaming, and it feels brave and right, because we glimpse our potential and we dare to believe in a God who can do big things through us."  The first of January often inspires resolution.  The word resolve, igniting action, involving decision.  While I have never been one to put pen to paper, creating a formal list of New Year's resolutions, I am inspired and motivated by the thought of self-improvement, or better yet, extending myself in new ways, so as to better reflect the One whose image I bear.   And, suddenly I'm back to humming "shine bright like a diamond" and pondering this.

 

This year, for me, is the year of notice.  I want to live in light of truth, that "apart from Him I can do nothing," (John 15:5) and "I am fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139:14)  I want to take notice of my true love in ways new and fresh, never taking for granted his active presence in our home, his whit, or charm.  I want to see our little ones for the diamonds they are, rough around the edges, but oh, so very beautiful, full of sparkle and light.  I want to see beauty in my days, allowing it to move me, whether by tear or action.  I want to notice the people He has put in my path, be them stranger or kindred spirit.  I want to take note of what makes my heart sing, and do more of it. I want to recognize my potential, and the many ways that He IS at work (already) as I dream big but live small.

 

Welcome, year 34.

Cheers to Tradition, and a New Year

The year was 2007.  It was then, just he and I, a couple of love birds with a baby on the way.  The city was Chicago.  And, we rang in the New Year with dear friends.  We indulged on fine food prepared in a small city kitchen, a meal so rich and memorable we still talk about it today.  We lounged lazily waiting for the ball to drop, friends sardined on an oversized couch, watching local news coverage.  It was fantastic.

 

We said good-bye to 2013 in a similar fashion.  Friends gathered, a fine piece of meat was prepared, wine for some, virgin cocktails for others, and plenty of milk for the babes.  Four children and counting.  Inevitably, we will be outnumbered (in the not too distant future).  And, the time may come to consider a destination gathering, trading champagne for margaritas on the sandy beaches of Mexico. 

 

But, until that day we will continue to gather as growing families, ringing in the New Year with horns, good food, laughter, local new coverage, red wine and sippy cups.

 



"Insta" Christmas

 

With the hustle and bustle of Christmas programs, last minute shopping, baking, and various other "to-do" lists behind us, we spent the majority of Christmas break together as a family enjoying the sights and sounds of the season, fellowship with loved ones, and the mostly slow and steady pace of a vacation spent in a state that is consistently cold, often with the chance of snow.  We were reminiscent of a year ago and the chaos of leaving Cleveland just before Christmas, fresh babe in tow, U-Haul boxes lining the halls of our rental property.  We were caught up in the wonder of watching our little lady and man, one year older, fully embracing the magic of the season, appreciating each strand of light, carol played and present beautifully wrapped under tree. We were amused by the littlest, a marvel to behold as she toddled to and fro, no longer an infant but curious bundle of pure joy.  But, mostly we were grateful, celebrating the birth of a Savior born to redeem His people, love coming down. 

 

 

Tickets please... a fantastic evening with friends recreating the Polar Express.

 

Enjoying a matinee performance of The Nutcracker at Madison's Overture Center.

 

 Bundling up for errands around town.

 

Christmas Eve snow forts with Papa.

 

My favorite present. Every. Year.

 

Waking to the wonder of Christmas morning. 

 

Matching jams and Christmas cuddles.

 

 

 Savoring time with Daddy.

 

Sharing with the ones we love.

 



 Getting dolled up for dinner.

 



Capturing Christmas sass.

 





 

Creating secret places to play.

Enjoying a second viewing of The Nutcracker at Milwaukee's Performing Arts Center.

 



 

Sharing a love of ballet.

Quiet days spent in pj's.

 



Making good use of Christmas boxes.